Then, since my brain was already fried, when I got home, I decided to call the bank and deal with an issue we have with them that we'd already spent half an hour on the phone and went to the bank personally trying to rectify. We thought it was taken care of, but it obviously wasn't since the same charge was on our newest statement. The women I talked to on the phone tonight said that it wasn't something she could take care of on the phone and we'd have to come into the bank personally. Sorry, Bank of Hawaii, we'd already done that once and took care of the problem and there was no way it was going to happen again and I told her so. I informed her it was going to be dropped and she was going to drop it now and we weren't ever going to see that charge again. Amazingly enough, even though 3 minutes earlier she said it couldn't be done over the phone, she managed to do it. For a bank that had already been sued by their customers just 2 years ago (and had to fork over a buttload of $, which the lawyers all got), you'd think they'd be a little more customer friendly. I guess they're very slow learners over at BOH.
The Proma is finally over for WE. It all went off without a hitch on Saturday night and he's thrilled he doesn't have to deal with it anymore - until Homecoming when it starts all over again.
Angel #4 complains that I don't write enough about her - I told her she has to do something interesting and I will. Well, she obliged on Friday afternoon. I got a text from her saying she was 'going to go die now'. I asked what happened and she said I should just ask her brother. So the next time I saw WE, I asked him what happened to #4. He stopped and thought for a moment, then burst out laughing. Apparently, to get their buddy's riled up, boys go and flirt with their friends sisters. The whole boy's track team was outside getting ready for practice when Angel #4 walked by. WE's buddy called out her name and ran over for a hug. Angel #4 went running in his direction, slipped and fell on her butt in a mud puddle. I told her that if she wanted to do something embarrassing in front of the whole boy's track team, she couldn't have picked a better time. After school on the Friday before Prom is perfect, by the time everyone gets back to school, they're going to have much more interesting things to discuss than some poor 8th grader who plopped on her butt in a mud puddle. She survived with nothing more than a little wounded pride.