Saturday, July 26, 2008

Barbies' Common Courtesy

So the last two days have been filled with conspiracies to make me go off the deep end. Every little thing that would normally cause me to flip my lid, blow my gasket, whatever the saying, seemed to pop up within a 48 hour period.

I've been used to having the whole building we live in to ourselves. For the past four or five years, we really didn't have immediate neighbors in the unit next to ours. The few that did venture to live there really weren't that noticeable--well, other than last summer when a construction crew rented the unit, partied every night, yelled at each other, trashed the yard with broken beer bottles, and left cigarette butts every where. So anyway, long story short is that the unit was foreclosed on and sold to a couple from another town--the couple that wanted to tear down our nice, brand new fence. I got home yesterday to discover that they had erected a four foot high post in the dirt patch that sits between our units, attached a piece of lattice work to create a "fence" and had covered the sewage clean outs with small rocks. It looks nice, but they did not get our permission to erect the thingy, and I'm not sure we would have agreed to the covering of the clean outs. We have this ridiculous Condominium Association, and it has bylaws and declarations and the whole nine yards. I know that the new owners have the documents--I gave them the documents. Would it have killed them to ask us our thoughts? What happened to common courtesy?

So onto the next units. They too were foreclosed on and sold. The new owners there are trying to better the property--YES! Someone else to help foot the bill that we've been paying!--and have made numerous changes--asking for permission along the way. They have a contractor that's doing a good portion of the work. Hubby had gotten permission from everyone to put up these solar lights to light the pathway. Not a bad idea, especially since some of the steps are crumbling. The end units and their contractor have managed to bust two lights. The first busted light, the owner confessed to, and we said no big deal. The latest busted light the contractor put on the porch of one of the units and has not said one word to us. If we had busted something of theirs, we would have mentioned it. What happened to common courtesy?

After discovering the trouble with the neighbors, I opened a credit card statement and nearly had a heart attack. In April, I attended a direct sales shopping moment, and purchased over $300 in clothing. The show was on the 27th. In May, I discovered that the credit card showed the same charge by the same company on the 27th and the 29th. I had contacted the consultant--I used to be a direct sales consultant and hated when the customer contacted the company without giving me a chance to find the problem, and I wanted her to know I appreciated her as a consultant--and the consultant said that she was on vacation, and couldn't look into it until she returned. When she returned, she e-mailed me that the company only saw the charge once, and didn't know why it posted twice and suggested I contact the credit card company. I did contact the credit card company, and they reversed the second charge while they researched the charge. The direct sales company then closed their doors. Sure enough, on this month's statement, I see where they reinstated the second charge. Never mind what my receipt says. Never mind that I only got one shipment of clothing. Never mind the little person got screwed. The credit card company never sent me any notice that their investigation was complete or of their findings. I tried to call, but the wait was "eight minutes or more," and after 10 minutes, I had to be at an appointment. I fired off an e-mail to the credit card company. I have heard nothing. What happened to common courtesy?

Finally, we had to go to Albuquerque for a doctor's appointment. Then I had to get blood work. We cleared the hospital at 4:00, and I have to be at work at 6:30. We live exactly two hours from the hospital. The fastest route is I-25 home. There was major congestion on I-25. No traffic accidents, no construction, no reasonable explanation for the 45 miles per hour drive from Albuquerque to Bernalillo. After we cleared that, we had maybe 10 miles before the speed dropped again. And then there was construction. Here's what really got me--it is apparently every New Mexican's God-given right to drive in the left lane. Never mind all the posted signs about slower traffic keep right. If you want to drive at 30 miles an hour LESS then the posted speed limit, please, by all means, drive in the left lane. It's against the law to pass on the right, so the rest of us will just plod along behind you. What happened to common courtesy?

When I was a child, I would sometimes picture mankind as barbie dolls. God would bend our legs, dress up, make us walk, everything little kids do with barbie dolls. I pictured Him pushing around cars on a track, just like Hot Wheels. I saw Him placing buildings around a map. However, I never imagined that God would allow us to be so doggone rude to each other.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

God Speed

God has an interesting way of putting things into perspective for us.

Here I am, careening down the main drag to go to another town with my girlfriend, worrying about the fact that we are incurring an approximately $400-500 cost a month, and that the dog has to have surgery done on top of that charge to the tune of another $500, and I have no idea where I'm going to discover a magic $1,000 extra in our monthly budget this month, when I realize that all the other cars are slowing down and driving doggone close to the ridiculous 40 miles per hour posted. As I turn to my girlfriend to say, bet there's a speed trap ahead, I realize that the nice officer with the radar gun is tuned on my vehicle, and I am not going the posted speed limit. I say to my friend, we're going to get pulled over, and sure enough, here comes the friendly officer behind me.

Yup, while I'm worrying and fretting about money, I received a $65 ticket. It should have been $80, but the officer told me that honesty goes a long way and docked 5 miles off my speed.

Ironic thoughts are that in Podunk, the ticket would have been more than double that. Of course, in Podunk, I'm not so sure I would have gotten a ticket.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Traveling Tethered to Another Man

It's very rare that I see a man and a woman eating a meal together that I don't assume that they are together as a couple in love. Put that man and that woman at a hotel together, and it's rare that I don't assume there's more than meets the eye. Replace that man with one missing his chica because he's homesick and miles away man, and replace the woman with me, and I am disgusted that people automatically think this way. Ironic, I know. From now on, I will try to assume that a man and a woman eating together may just be making the best out of an awkward situation.

I knew the minute the department told me that we would be traveling together that I was about to become a huge burden. I'm bitchy, perpetually tired, stressed out and, oh yeah, a female. Put me in a car for hours, stick me in a town smaller than Podunk, and tell me that I'm the only non-cop at a training where I have to be on my best behavior and remember I represent a whole stinking department, and I'm a double dose of whiny. Add to it that law enforcement is a pretty tight community and that when a cop can get away and hang out with other cops from other places, no cop wants to be linked to any non-cop that's not their family...especially when the non-cop doesn't drink. Who wouldn't want to put me in their unit and run away with me?

I seriously worried about this, and tried everything short of giving up the class (which I really needed to advance my career), and everything fell on deaf ears. Officer told me not to worry about it, and swore that it wouldn't be any big deal to be tethered to me for 16 hours out of a day. We've worked together for about two years, and we're friendly enough that I bitch and moan at him when we're on shift together. It couldn't be too awkward to travel with a man that was not Hubby, right? No big deal. So off we went.

Officer retrieved me from my parents' house (it was Mom's birthday) and as Hubby walked me out, one of the Parental Unit made a comment about flashing back to seeing me off on a date...that set the mood :) Officer didn't say anything about it, and we were off Sunday night, into a week of assumptions from other people.

We went everywhere together. He had to go to Walmart, so we went to the nearest town together. We attended class together, sat by each other, ate every meal together...there was nowhere close to the hotel, and we had to drive to another town to find food. I learned a lot about him thanks to the time we were together. I would wager he learned more about me than he ever wanted to know. It's weird to travel with a co-worker to begin with. Make that co-worker a member of the opposite sex, and somehow things just feel odd.

It's double weird because I spend more time with officers than I do with Hubby just due to my work schedule v. Hubby's work schedule. I think that's why officers form bonds with other officers, firefighters with other firefighters, etc. We have to become a family for the trust issues. We choose to become family because of the time we are together. We must make up the largest dysfunctional family ever, but we are a family. And the week with Officer--although awkward and odd at times--will have helped me build a bigger foundation of trust with Officer. I've totally got his back any time.

I think Officer was relieved to have Hubby meet us in Santa Fe to unload me. Lucky for Officer, he has to work with me tomorrow night for a 12-hour shift...and then he'll get a whole week before he has to see me again. Lucky for me, I have Hubby who will gladly resume the duties of listening to me bitch and moan, rant and rave. And while Officer had to fill the role of listener because he had to be tethered to me, Hubby does it because he loves me. That's pretty sweet.

Friday, July 11, 2008

More Adventures in the Land of Oz

Just returned home from a trip to another glamorous part of New Mexico. Actually, it was quite lovely where I was, although I have to confess it's another area I would never live in. God would have to do a lot of smacking me upside the head with a 2x4 to convince me to move there.

I'm a little hesitant to say too much about where I was...see the previous post. I gather that I really offended someone from another part of the state--which is never my intentions--and when that person commented that I was "mistaken" in my impressions, I did not take it very well...as may be apparent by the fact that I still have some bitterness in my tone.

I love that people stumble upon this blog, and I love that some even post comments. I just hope that people remember that this is my impression, my thoughts, my feelings, etc., and therefore, things should be taken as gospel. Okay, not really gospel, but the gospel according to Kate. I have never intended to drag down society, and believe it or not, I am fairly knowledgeable about some things, and sometimes I have done my homework before blasting off my thoughts.

That being said, I also don't believe in deleting anything from this blog. I did so once before, and I really regretted it, because selfishly, this is about my journey through life, and it can be fairly amusing to laugh at myself later.

So let's just say that I went somewhere for a week in this wonderful state. Some good came from it, some not so good came of it, and some that won't waiver me anyway came out of it. It rained (because we're finally in monsoon season) and flooded parts of the town I was nearby. It was not as dry as Deming or Silver City was just about three weeks ago. I had never been there, so it was an adventure. I doubt I'd ever return. And the whole purpose of the trip was for work purposes, and that was a waste of department time/taxpayer dollars. I think my partner in crime for the week and I just wanted to put on our fancy red shoes and chant "there's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home" until we found ourselves with Toto in bed.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

Sisterly Love

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.