I am a member of a sorority.
I know what you're thinking--somebody actually let me in?!? Or maybe you're thinking--but you didn't go to college? To answer both, I'm surprised they let me in, and nope, I didn't go to school.
There's an amazing group of women that have saved me from myself over and over again, and I never would have met most of them had I not been invited to join. I've been a member of this chapter for almost 6 years...wow, that's crazy! It doesn't seem that long ago...maybe my math sucks. Probably because I didn't go to college :) However, this sorority is not an academic or collegiate affiliated sorority. We were started by a man that was a traveling salesman and he started the "National What to Read" club, and from that, we were generated. We do have chapters on campuses, but we're mainly a service organization.
Anyway, each summer there is the State convention, and we load up and travel to some usually God-forsaken part of New Mexico. While that describes most of New Mexico, this year was in Silver City, and I actually found Silver City to be pretty. Prior to getting there, we had to go through some incredibly depressing parts of the state. I have to interrupt my sisterly thoughts here, because I was really taken aback by some things on our travels. I don't know if I'll ever understand how it is that chili is our state's livelihood and most precious commodity (teeheehee), but Hatch, home of the chili, is so poverty stricken and poor. Talk about a humbling moment...driving through Hatch and the outskirts of Hatch, seeing the large ranches spread out on land that most would never imagine trying to grow something, watching the groups of what are most likely migrant workers working the fields by hand, seeing the falling down trailers and trying to comprehend how some parts of the state can be one way while others within a 4 hour drive are so different just blew my mind. I'm aware that New Mexico is amongst the poorest states in the nation, but there's something that just opened my eyes while we were driving through Hatch...and into Deming.
I know next to nothing about Deming, other than I've met some dispatchers from there years ago, and I know it's reputed to have a large gang issue, lots of illegals, and I'm pretty sure it was either Deming or Lordsberg that had the last school shooting in the state. Deming was again depressing. I don't think it helped either town that the drought is so huge and the terrain so rough and wild appearing...it felt like the Wild Wild West. The people in Deming were nice (well, the people in Blakes Lotaburger. The chick in Walmart told me that her job was so stressful and nobody could understand what it was like to work under pressure and the kind of pressure she has on her. I know I would never understand pressure at work!), but I honestly hope that we're never told to live there.
I digress.
So I trekked through the Wild Western part of the state...well, it's actually all Southern...with Hubby. Hubby had to invade the girls' weekend, and I'm not sure that was such a hit with the other sisters from my chapter. They all know why Hubby had to attend (see my other blog for all the boring long stories...you'll catch on quick!), and so I was banished from the car ride with them to ride in solitude with Hubby. Hubby's not bad company, and I love him; he's just not a sister. I don't know if this made me more off-balance than normal, or if it's just because I'm super sensitive, but I was so dreading the weekend. Not to be one of the girls, not to get to share in the bonding of the car ride--it had me bummed out. The girls were great, and I really appreciated their attempts to be sure I was included. Once we arrived, the girls were quick to share the personal jokes they had created on the ride down, and while I wasn't there and therefore didn't get them, the attempt was truly appreciated.
We spent the weekend dressing alike, which is no easy task, as I am a size double digits to the max, and I think that one of them was a 2, one a 4, and the other an 8. I love my sisters, and they are all beautiful, strong, passionate women that would look great in a burlap sack. I am a fat hormonal wench that can't fit into most clothing especially this week and next. This is where my sisters again showed me remarkable love--each morning they greeted me with how beautiful I looked, or how great my choice of top was (of course, we were wearing the same clothes, but for half of Saturday, we only wore the same skirt and chose our own tops), or how much they liked my half-heartily styled hair. Only a sister would lie to me like they did :) And I love them for it.
We were placing a bid to host the convention next year in Podunk, and we all had to play a part in a skit of sorts. Our theme is the 1940s, and I'm pleased to say that we did get the bid, and New Mexico's state convention for 2009 will be in Podunk. I'm not sure yet if I'm pleased to say that I'm a co-chair for the convention, but I'm excited to see where it goes. Our statewide sisters were so encouraging and supportive and kind...and now I have a lot of sisterly love to live up to.
There's something very cool in knowing that I'm part of something as wonderful and loving as this group of women from all walks of life. It's a cheesy warm feeling that I hope propels me through the next time an item of clothing won't go over my rear or the next time I want to snap at somebody. You rock, sisters! Thanks for setting an example and for reminding me that I am loved by more than those that HAVE to love me.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Lessons I Obviously Have Not Learned
I thought I had lost this post! But it was just hiding! This happened in June '08...and I have been back to Chilis since. I just can't resist.
Last night we took my parents to eat at Chilis because we wanted to go to Lowes and Walmart.
For anybody who remembers the prior post about my experiences with Chilis when it's been followed by a trip to Walmart, you can probably guess where this is headed. It's headed south.
So we did the call ahead seating, and we arrived at Chilis at the time we expected to do so. It was a Friday night, so we were expecting a bit of a wait...to be seated. We were seated within a few minutes (showing that at least something at Chilis works right--go call ahead seating). We had a cute young thing bring us our drinks and she was so prompt, I actually had faith that we were going to have a good meal. Then she uttered the words "____ will be your server this evening and she'll be right out" and I knew it was over.
Our waitress appeared several minutes later, and took our orders, and even repeated them back to us. 40 minutes later, the food appeared, and it was WRONG. Mom wanted her steak medium, and it was closer to well done through out about three quarters of it. Only the part surrounded by fat was even slightly pink. Dad didn't want peppers or mushrooms, and they were on the sandwich. I had asked for no onion straws, and you could see where they picked the straws off--chunks of batter was stuck on the cheese, and the bacon was burnt to the point where all it tasted like was charcoal. We told her it was wrong, but that we weren't going to wait another 40 minutes for more food, so we would suffer. There was no "sorry about that" or "let me see what I can do for you." There also was no ketchup on the table, and we asked for some, and the WAITRESS never came back with it--I had to take it off another table. To the cute young thing that got us our drinks' credit, she appeared with ketchup about 10 minutes later, but I'd already done the waitress' job. What the heck happened to customer service? If you don't want to take care of your customers, get a different job. Work for the government. You don't have to be a waitress. There was no sign of anybody managerial around, and frankly, I didn't want to wait 40 minutes for them to hunt somebody down--if they ever did, so we just left a tacky tip and walked.
Then we trekked into Lowes, where I really wanted to find some flowers for my box that's out front. I enjoy "gardening" in a box--no worms that way--because it relaxes me, and I usually can hold onto a plant. Lowes had nothing. Okay, so they had like 4 types of flowering plants that could be in a box, but they all needed direct sunlight, and everybody knows there's no direct sunlight in the ghetto, so they weren't plausible. There was a hanging basket of petunias, but there were no price tags, and nobody around, so we left. I guess there's another place that doesn't want our money. You know, for bitching that the economy is so terrible and that businesses are suffering, one would expect businesses to have people to help you spend your money.
I did not drown my sorrows from Chilis in a cake that would have ended upside down this time. Instead, I drowned my sorrows in actual crap for the house that we needed--Woolite, dishwasher soap, Kool-Aid for the Kiddo's care package. We actually didn't really buy junk food, and that's what I really wanted. However, I think the lesson from Chilis that God's trying to help me realize is that my expanding waistline and perpetual need to buy new clothing to meet this demand is something that He will help me control (since I have no self-control) with poor customer service. This will also allow Him to help me learn to control the purse strings/spending tempations.
Gee, if I could just remember these lessons, I might get skinny and we might become rich with savings. I wonder if we'll learn it this time.
Probably not, as we're headed to Colorado Springs this weekend and then I have a sorority convention the next weekend. That means more eating out and more money flowing out, no matter how awful the service.
Last night we took my parents to eat at Chilis because we wanted to go to Lowes and Walmart.
For anybody who remembers the prior post about my experiences with Chilis when it's been followed by a trip to Walmart, you can probably guess where this is headed. It's headed south.
So we did the call ahead seating, and we arrived at Chilis at the time we expected to do so. It was a Friday night, so we were expecting a bit of a wait...to be seated. We were seated within a few minutes (showing that at least something at Chilis works right--go call ahead seating). We had a cute young thing bring us our drinks and she was so prompt, I actually had faith that we were going to have a good meal. Then she uttered the words "____ will be your server this evening and she'll be right out" and I knew it was over.
Our waitress appeared several minutes later, and took our orders, and even repeated them back to us. 40 minutes later, the food appeared, and it was WRONG. Mom wanted her steak medium, and it was closer to well done through out about three quarters of it. Only the part surrounded by fat was even slightly pink. Dad didn't want peppers or mushrooms, and they were on the sandwich. I had asked for no onion straws, and you could see where they picked the straws off--chunks of batter was stuck on the cheese, and the bacon was burnt to the point where all it tasted like was charcoal. We told her it was wrong, but that we weren't going to wait another 40 minutes for more food, so we would suffer. There was no "sorry about that" or "let me see what I can do for you." There also was no ketchup on the table, and we asked for some, and the WAITRESS never came back with it--I had to take it off another table. To the cute young thing that got us our drinks' credit, she appeared with ketchup about 10 minutes later, but I'd already done the waitress' job. What the heck happened to customer service? If you don't want to take care of your customers, get a different job. Work for the government. You don't have to be a waitress. There was no sign of anybody managerial around, and frankly, I didn't want to wait 40 minutes for them to hunt somebody down--if they ever did, so we just left a tacky tip and walked.
Then we trekked into Lowes, where I really wanted to find some flowers for my box that's out front. I enjoy "gardening" in a box--no worms that way--because it relaxes me, and I usually can hold onto a plant. Lowes had nothing. Okay, so they had like 4 types of flowering plants that could be in a box, but they all needed direct sunlight, and everybody knows there's no direct sunlight in the ghetto, so they weren't plausible. There was a hanging basket of petunias, but there were no price tags, and nobody around, so we left. I guess there's another place that doesn't want our money. You know, for bitching that the economy is so terrible and that businesses are suffering, one would expect businesses to have people to help you spend your money.
I did not drown my sorrows from Chilis in a cake that would have ended upside down this time. Instead, I drowned my sorrows in actual crap for the house that we needed--Woolite, dishwasher soap, Kool-Aid for the Kiddo's care package. We actually didn't really buy junk food, and that's what I really wanted. However, I think the lesson from Chilis that God's trying to help me realize is that my expanding waistline and perpetual need to buy new clothing to meet this demand is something that He will help me control (since I have no self-control) with poor customer service. This will also allow Him to help me learn to control the purse strings/spending tempations.
Gee, if I could just remember these lessons, I might get skinny and we might become rich with savings. I wonder if we'll learn it this time.
Probably not, as we're headed to Colorado Springs this weekend and then I have a sorority convention the next weekend. That means more eating out and more money flowing out, no matter how awful the service.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Bitch from Hell
So while I'm surfing around and checking other blogs that I check regularly, and getting put off that nobody's posting, it occurs to me that I haven't posted in a million years. There's a good reason for this. Life has had me in the dumps, and although I'm normally a pessimist, I was really, really negative. And I don't like being the bitch from hell. Believe it or not. So I avoided this blog like the plague.
What had me so distraught? I'm not sure that reliving it won't make me become awful, but here goes:
I love my job. I love my job. That's what I spent the past month telling myself. My job is great. My immediate supervisor is great. There was a whole bunch of crap that went down, mainly due to the influence of one employee, and I was tied to it because I'm a) a training officer and b) the shift Lead. One new employee managed to destroy relationships within my work environment both between the immediate co-workers I have and the police officers I serve. And it sucks that some of the relationships may never be completely restored. However, the relationships that truly matter have outlasted and come back stronger than ever, and one little person is not enough to destroy who I am, nor is he enough to destroy the truth about my integrity, my morals and ethics, nor the morale or the environment that I have (not to be totally selfish and say it's all me, but I know I've played a huge part in it) worked so hard to create. We were an awful place to work a year ago, and with a lot of prodding and coaxing, we're not a bad place to be any more. Since homeboy is gone, we're rebuilding what was temporarily knocked over, and I know we'll be stronger because of our experience with him. Anyway, while this whole thing is going on (think HR investigation amongst other crap), I had a new trainee that needed my attention, constantly increasing work loads because Police and Fire don't play nice with each other, a new team of dispatchers to lead complete with tons of officer complaints about my team, and I worked mad hours--like 32 hours of overtime in one week.
So work had me stressed out. And it didn't seem like it ever would end, so God tossed on more :) We have people that were dumb enough to buy the other 3/4 of our ghetto building, and the neighbor thing started pretty quick. One person bought two units, and another couple bought the middle unit. The middle unit asked the other new owner about tearing down the fence that's in the backyard. Here's the problem. The middle unit has a postage stamp of backyard, and the condo documents state that each unit has 25% of the property. So middle unit is pissed that they have a tiny backyard, and want a common backyard. Hubby and I paid around $8K (no joke) last year (and we had to mortgage our souls and beg the former owners to let us put it up, plus attend a million County planning meetings--serious politics here) to build a privacy fence because we have three heathens, two of which jumped the old fence and one of which has a history of biting people. The other owner didn't want to tear down the fence either because who's going to buy a house with no yard? So I haven't seen the middle unit people since, but I'm fully prepared to kick their butts should the fence come up again. It was so nice to live here for 9 years with nobody else on the property, really. We could do whatever we wanted. And now I have to learn to play nice again.
I know the stress hasn't been good for my marriage, but luckily I was working so much, Hubby didn't have to see me other than when I would collapse at home. Hubby took my parents and I away this weekend, as my mother is also stressed to the max. We went to Durango, and rode the train between Durango and Silverton. It's like a 6 hour round-trip experience. And it was really nice to go away. However, now we're back to the real world, and I've already got stuff piling up for work that has to be addressed FIRST thing tomorrow. I've got to go back to graveyards. I'm not nice at 0630. Fortunately, that too will change, and I'll be on graves in about a month.
Maybe then I'll be able to blog, and maybe then life will be more interesting!
What had me so distraught? I'm not sure that reliving it won't make me become awful, but here goes:
I love my job. I love my job. That's what I spent the past month telling myself. My job is great. My immediate supervisor is great. There was a whole bunch of crap that went down, mainly due to the influence of one employee, and I was tied to it because I'm a) a training officer and b) the shift Lead. One new employee managed to destroy relationships within my work environment both between the immediate co-workers I have and the police officers I serve. And it sucks that some of the relationships may never be completely restored. However, the relationships that truly matter have outlasted and come back stronger than ever, and one little person is not enough to destroy who I am, nor is he enough to destroy the truth about my integrity, my morals and ethics, nor the morale or the environment that I have (not to be totally selfish and say it's all me, but I know I've played a huge part in it) worked so hard to create. We were an awful place to work a year ago, and with a lot of prodding and coaxing, we're not a bad place to be any more. Since homeboy is gone, we're rebuilding what was temporarily knocked over, and I know we'll be stronger because of our experience with him. Anyway, while this whole thing is going on (think HR investigation amongst other crap), I had a new trainee that needed my attention, constantly increasing work loads because Police and Fire don't play nice with each other, a new team of dispatchers to lead complete with tons of officer complaints about my team, and I worked mad hours--like 32 hours of overtime in one week.
So work had me stressed out. And it didn't seem like it ever would end, so God tossed on more :) We have people that were dumb enough to buy the other 3/4 of our ghetto building, and the neighbor thing started pretty quick. One person bought two units, and another couple bought the middle unit. The middle unit asked the other new owner about tearing down the fence that's in the backyard. Here's the problem. The middle unit has a postage stamp of backyard, and the condo documents state that each unit has 25% of the property. So middle unit is pissed that they have a tiny backyard, and want a common backyard. Hubby and I paid around $8K (no joke) last year (and we had to mortgage our souls and beg the former owners to let us put it up, plus attend a million County planning meetings--serious politics here) to build a privacy fence because we have three heathens, two of which jumped the old fence and one of which has a history of biting people. The other owner didn't want to tear down the fence either because who's going to buy a house with no yard? So I haven't seen the middle unit people since, but I'm fully prepared to kick their butts should the fence come up again. It was so nice to live here for 9 years with nobody else on the property, really. We could do whatever we wanted. And now I have to learn to play nice again.
I know the stress hasn't been good for my marriage, but luckily I was working so much, Hubby didn't have to see me other than when I would collapse at home. Hubby took my parents and I away this weekend, as my mother is also stressed to the max. We went to Durango, and rode the train between Durango and Silverton. It's like a 6 hour round-trip experience. And it was really nice to go away. However, now we're back to the real world, and I've already got stuff piling up for work that has to be addressed FIRST thing tomorrow. I've got to go back to graveyards. I'm not nice at 0630. Fortunately, that too will change, and I'll be on graves in about a month.
Maybe then I'll be able to blog, and maybe then life will be more interesting!
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