Tomorrow, on Christmas Eve, at around noon or so, my Christmas will officially begin to suck.
My aunt, who has lived in California for the last 25 years or so, is coming back to Hawaii for a visit. I’ve gone through every room in my house, and the only thing we’ve got to defend ourselves with is my dad’s rubber band gun. And we’re down to our last 25 shots. Dammit. They won’t be enough.
As you can probably guess, there’s a long and complicated history here, one which I will not go into right now. I don’t want to ruin yet another good mood. I will not detail the dozens of snide remarks, selfish actions, and all-around petty shit my aunt has pulled on us in the last few years. It’ll just piss me off to have to talk about it.
Instead, let me bitch about the way this visit is being handled. So far:
1) No one knows exactly when she’s coming. No one knows what airline she’s on. No one knows what time the plane lands here, or what her plans are once she arrives here.
This is a problem for us because we have to give Evil Aunt the keys and directions to my other aunt’s new house, where she’ll be staying for the length of her visit. To get any slightest clue about her flight information, I had to go to the American Airlines website, which, thankfully, was able to give me a list of all of tomorrow’s incoming flights for all the major airlines. My dad, who’s planning on meeting Evil Aunt at the airport, is thinking of calling the airport in the morning.
Where is this other aunt? In California, meeting her soon-to-be in-laws. Been there since Tuesday. Great. Did she pass on any helpful information to us? No.
2) Has evil aunt called us to tell us when she’s coming? No. Has she called us to make arrangements to have us show her where the house is? No. Has anyone heard from her in the last few months? No. Does anyone know what the fuck’s going on? No.
3) As I see it, our involvement in this whole deal is unnecessary. Other Aunt gave us her housekeys Sunday night, two days before she left. She said that she didn’t want to give them to just anyone; she felt more comfortable with us handing them over to Evil Aunt personally. Fine. I can see where she’s coming from.
What I can’t see is why she couldn’t give them to Evil Aunt herself. There are ways she could have done this. She’s in Cali right now. She could have arranged to meet Evil Aunt somewhere and passed her the keys (and a map to her new house) herself. She could have hid them outside somewhere. The neighborhood is safe enough. Or she could have run to Home Depot and invested in a lock box. Something. This did not have to be our problem.
However, I sense some genetics at play here. Other Aunt also didn’t tell us exactly when she’d be giving us the keys. And my mom didn’t want to ask, saying Other Aunt would give them to us when she was ready. Other Aunt dropping by Sunday was a surprise. We’d been waiting for a word from her for two weeks.
What wonderful planners and communicators we all are!
It’s been a hell of a week, really. I’ve pushed and shoved my way through three different malls, resisted bitching at a lot of oblivious and rude fellow shoppers, and spent about ten hours stuck in parking-lot-like traffic. I’m about all out of patience. The last thing I need right now is this horrible woman raining on my Christmas cheer.
But I’m getting her anyway. 
sigh
You’re right about her being respected, and that any snafu will be perceived as a fuck-up on our part. The whole thing sucks. I just may take your advice. Thanks.
