I Never Make Mistakes

I had the privelege of taking the car into be serviced today.

I'm very proud of us--we've been very responsible with this car. Normally we just pay the loan on time and ignore everything else about a vehicle. Ok, so that's what I do--Hubby pays attention to the oil changes and when I gripe about a noise/tug on the wheel/etc., Hubby will figure something out. I was trained at a young age to take care of vehicles--most of my memories of hanging out with my dad involve learning about carburetors and changing brakes. My earlier cars gave us chances to bond over replacing numerous starters and just about everything under the hood of an '85 Pontiac Sunbird (that's right, a sunbird--I was cool with the grandma car until it just stopped running). I have no idea why I'm so lax about it now.

So with this car, (which has all the bells and whistles possible on it except for satellite radio--we chose the other option that I can't remember now and you couldn't have both--and the DVD player--again, can't have sunroof and DVD player--because Hubby is instant-gratification-man and because I'm the type that has to prove a point) we've really strove to make all the appointments and all the deadlines. We're actually 1500 miles ahead on our services because we don't even drive it as hard as the other cars we've owned have been driven (case in point--Hubby's PODD--that's doggie doo--that has well over 130K miles on it and we've owned that for 6 years and put all but 35K on it ourselves).

The bigger point of this long story is that I hate taking the car to get it serviced, because I hate the dealership. I will never, ever, EVER purchase a vehicle from anything that has to do with the Lithia dealerships. The way we got the car was absurd. We went to the dealership and meandered the parking lot for 45 minutes without any car salesperson coming near us. In July. How is it that NO car salespeople wanted to help us? I was in shorts and grubby sneakers, Hubby in shorts and a grungy shirt, so we assume that the evil car people thought we were a)too young to afford a new car and/or b) too poor to talk to. Never mind that we had studied up on Jeeps and checked out safety ratings and prices and packages and were therefore not only willing to walk onto the lot and purchase a Jeep then and there, but fully aware of the costs and able to purchase one. After being ignored, we left and went down the road to another dealership, deciding to check out other cars. We explained our terrible experience to a nice salesman (that followed us to the parking space and greeted us enthusiastically despite our appearances), who said that he used to work for Lithia and HE called over to the first dealership and told them that two nice people had left and that they had almost lost a sale but that he was giving up his potential commission and sending us back. Wouldn't you know it--upon our return to the first dealership, they were magically willing to help us! Who begs a dealership to sell a ridiculously priced vehicle to them? Us. I had to buy the car to prove to these people that we could so afford it and Hubby had to buy the car because it is a sweet ride and has a lot of bells and whistles and things I don't know how to work now 2 years later.

As we were learning the "benefits" of financing the Jeep with Chrysler/Dodge, the finance man had the nerve to complain about it being after his normal hours and that's why he was in a hurry to get through the paperwork. That made me determined to make him stay longer. Hubby told him it was his own dealership's fault, and we asked a million questions about purchasing some terribly expensive additional warranty. The finance man told us it covered things like towing, rental cars when the Jeep was being serviced, the majority of the parts that aren't covered after the original warranty, and a zillion other things I can't remember. Turns out none of that is true. On average, the Jeep spends about 3-6 hours being maintenanced whenever I take it down (I usually have the big months, Hubby gets the oil change only months). However, there's no rental car offered. Never mind that we drive an hour to get it serviced, or that in order for me to do anything else during this time, a friend or Hubby has to drive that hour as well and then cart my happy rear end around Santa Fe. All that the additional several thousand dollar warranty is good for is lifetime oil changes. Guess while I was trying to make him stay longer to piss him off, the finance man was figuring out how to screw me royally.

Then there's the fact that a part was recalled on the Jeep. Nobody mentioned this to us--we had to take the Jeep in 3 times before they heard the noise and agreed something was wrong, and then when they agreed, they announced that the part had been recalled anyway, so they were replacing all the parts. Of course, we scheduled a separate appointment for that--an appointment that would last 2-3 hours according to the maintenance manager. After 4 hours, the manager confessed to me that they didn't order enough parts for all the tires (everyone knows that a car only drives on 3 wheels, right?) and I would have to come back again. So I made yet another trip down where I sat for 5 hours. And the noise is still in the back of the Jeep, like it was last January when we began this quest for finding the noise.

So as I pull in today, and I give my last name, the manager says, "Oh, _____(insert Hubby's name here)." Of course Hubby has chewed them out several times in the past, and I sent scathing remarks back on a recent survey about the dealership. Manager tells me it'll be another 2-3 hour appointment--which Hubby failed to tell me, but my past experience has taught me to bring a book. I bet it really should have only taken 15 minutes, but again, Lithia is out to screw me.

Why do we still go there? It ain't the service--see all of the above paragraphs. It ain't the coffee--they don't even offer free coffee (but if we'd bought at the dealership next door, we'd get coffee and doughnuts--that's what my parents get). It ain't the other clientele--although the scruffy toothless man and his friend the volunteer fireman in an even more podunk town that hit on me in the waiting room did soften me up...it's been a long time since anyone tried to flirt with me. We're afraid of voiding the several thousand dollar warranty that nobody knows what it's good for other than lifetime oil changes.

That, and I don't really want to look like we made a mistake, because I never make mistakes :)

Thought for the Day

As I'm prepping the other post (which was rather dry, I confess), an officer posed an interesting thought. We were discussing the imbibing on Thanksgiving, and the fact that it makes us stuffed to the point were we could be ill (pleasant thought, I know). Officer Homeboy pondered how grizzly bears eat enough to hibernate and don't get sick. We discussed that that could be how they sleep for months. Then came the inevitable question of how their bodies shut down and necessary functions aren't necessary for months--especially after consuming so much food. Any ideas?

That's rhetorical of course :)

The Kiddo, C, and CO

I got so caught up in the dog and in Hubby's new hobby (to be fair, he's only had 1 out of the 6-pack), that I forgot to share about Colorado last weekend.

I love Colorado. I think that if we could live anywhere, I'd totally live there. Beautiful scenery, great mountains, blue skies (even when it rains!)--and I hate the outdoors. However, the ease of flowing from one city to the next and the comforts that come with suburbia, and the option of having all four seasons and green grass can't be beat. Every time we come home from CO, we talk about how great it would be to live there. Of course, we said that about Phoenix too--but Hubby confessed that he doesn't want the heat that comes with Phoenix in July :)

So our mission was to see our kiddo before he ships out to Iraq. I tease Kiddo that he's the little brother I never wanted but got stuck with somehow, and he responds in kind to me. Years ago, Hubby was a Sunday School teacher for junior high kids at the old church, and he caught wind that there was a need for a junior high youth group. I can't even swear that we were married when he started working with jr. highers in a youth group setting, and that evolved into Hubby being the deacon dude in charge of the youth ministry--which we did for like 7 years. Kiddo was part of the first junior high youth group, at the tender, impressionable age of 11. Hubby took on a big role in several teenagers' lives, but he took on an even bigger role with Kiddo. Hubby and Kiddo did everything together for years, and Hubby was a big brother/mentor/friend/leader/authority for Kiddo. Kiddo moved in with us his senior year in high school, and when Hubby and I separated and Kiddo had to move out, it broke all of our hearts. Kiddo was "adopted" by my parents, and I am truly blessed that Kiddo's mom is a good friend and sister in Christ and that she "adopted" me. Bottom line is that our lives are totally mixed with Kiddo's life, and I can't imagine not having Kiddo in it. So when Kiddo entered the Army to be in the Infintry, my heart sank.

The military is a good place for Kiddo to be, and he has grown and matured since entering it over a year ago. Unfortunately, Kiddo got pulled for 24 hour duty the weekend we were going to see him, so we only got him for a couple of hours Friday night. We took him to dinner and to an awful movie (hey, he chose it!), and then it was time to part ways. I asked Kiddo if he was frightened about going to Iraq, and he answered that he knew it wasn't a matter of if he was going to be hit, but when and whether it kills him or not is not in his hands. Kiddo currently drives a big machine, and it will take a ton of prayers for him and his crew to return safely. So start praying now! His tour is for 15 months, and they leave in the next week to 10 days reportedly.

I'm a nervous wreck for him, and I know Hubby is worried for him as well. We're so proud of him, and we're so thankful to our men and women of the Armed Forces--especially today they're on my mind, because without them, I wouldn't be free.

Saturday we met a friend from my work in Castle Rock and blew my paycheck. How weird is it that I don't get together with this friend in my own state, but put us both out of state and we hang out? Her daughter is gorgeous, and 2, and she was quite taken with Hubby. We did the shopping thing for hours, and went to meet my long lost friend C for the evening.

I lived in the big city in NM for about a year when I was young and single, and it was there that I met C and her husband and their darling boys. The boys will always hold a very special place in my heart, as will C and her husband. I don't think I can ever thank C enough for her support when we lived in the city--she was my main support system--and it was in my friendship with C and while I was living there that I really began to discover who I was. Unfortunately, the boys were sick, and C's husband stayed home with them, so we didn't see them.

It totally rocked to hang out with C. She and Hubby are a lot alike, and have the same sense of humor and trains of thought. C was great enough to venture into Victoria's Secret with me, and she was good enough to Hubby to prevent some "underwear disasters" that she thought may happen. C and Hubby are so much alike that it's a little scary to sit at the table between them. We closed down PF Changs and then went to Dennys for pie. Is it a bad sign that the first thing I noticed about a dude in Dennys was his prison tats across his neck? After we ran out of room and places to go, we parted ways and agreed not to let another 4 years go by without seeing each other. We won't go into how she's been to NM a hundred times and just hasn't seen me...or how I've been in CO a hundred times and just haven't seen her :)

So we're home this weekend, and then we're off to Phoenix next weekend for another weekend of blowing my paycheck...hopefully that trip will involve actually purchasing items for others too!

Boozing It Up

First, a quick update on Malachi: I groveled at Animal Control's feet (and the officer was very nice). AC is pleased with our fence (thank God it's completed) because now Malachi can be banished outside (if it was still chain link, that's too risky as some jerk could put his/her hand through the chain link). Also, Hubby and I are allowed to play with Malachi, but he can't be around other people or other animals, including the cats. So now we alternate who's allowed out when and when some are outside, the other is in and vice versa. The 10 days can't pass quick enough!

Secondly, I realize that I ended yesterday's post with a note that Hubby was drinking and that we don't do that much. There's a couple of reasons for that: I can't hold my liquor (half a wine cooler and I'm giggling at everything) and Hubby has never liked the taste of beer and apparently spent enough college years with the hard stuff that he's outgrown that interest other than on rare occasions--or so I thought.

We're in the local grocery store (there's only one option for MILES) and I ask Hubby if we have everything. Hubby responds that he's decided to start drinking beer, so we need to get some. Fascinated, I ask why now he's interested in beer. Hubby's response? "I feel guilty when I turn down a beer."

Thank God he's not in charge of the Pentagon. "Why are you sending soldiers and tanks to Switzerland?" "I feel guilty they don't ever have any tanks hanging around."

What if he were in charge of the Victoria Secret catalog? "Why are there fat people on the pages?" "I feel guilty that some people should never ever wear thongs."

Seriously. What sort of an answer is "I feel guilty when I turn down a beer?" I'm sure it doesn't hurt anybody's feelings that they spent whatever amount on a six-pack and Hubby is not going to drink their last one.

So what sort of beer is Hubby starting with? Guinness.

And to think that this is what a higher education can buy you. I'm sure one of his MBA courses was "How to Win Friends and Influence People" and step one was "Always accept a beer."

What an excuse to booze it up :) What happened to learning say no so you could watch everyone else get smashed at the company party and you'd be holding the pictures on Monday morning?

Why I Don't Have Children Yet

Whomever it was that said that pets were good practice for children may have had a valid point.

We used to wonder why we didn't have children. We assumed, stupidly, that it really was because of my bizarre medical issues. Then we assumed it was because God knew our marriage was going to need some work (He was right, of course!). Now that we're back on solid ground, and back to pondering the child question, we have discovered the truth: if we can't properly raise a puppy, we don't deserve a child.

We just got home from Colorado. We raced in and dropped of the bags and bags of crap we bought (Merry Christmas to ourselves...and again, we always wonder why we can't get the credit card debt paid off and left paid off!..maybe there's a lesson there too) and raced out to pick up our "heathens" from our friend that's way too good to us and always watches them.

For those of you that don't really know me, we have a zoo. There's Thomas, the fat cat (he's like 21 pounds--for real), Elsa, the kitten (who is actually not a kitten after being here for 2 years), Thor, the old dog (Rottweiler/doberman mix), Andy, the middle child (golden retriever/cocker spaniel mix), and Malachi, the baby (German Shepard and possibly greyhound cross). And there's a family of mice that sometimes take up residence, but Thomas is pretty good at evicting them. All of this in a house that is under 1100 square feet.

So Malachi is just about 3 years old. Malachi and Thor have a long running record of jumping the fence in our backyard, and we have finally gotten a large privacy fence to contain them. Malachi and Thor attended puppy obedience school, and Malachi passed with flying colors (Thor was a doggie school dropout--The Fire came during the last 2 weeks of class, so Thor never graduated).

So, we left to go see our kiddo that's shipping off to Iraq in under a month, and our friend L, who truly is a saint, agreed to keep the dogs and we had a teenager come to watch the cats. Saint L often watches our "boys" and we watch her dog (a very well behaved Brittany Spaniel) when she's out of town. This has been our arrangement for over 4 years, and in fact, L has been upset when we've hired a doggie sitter in the past. I think she's changed her mind.

Apparently at 1300 this date, Malachi bit L's neighbor. On the arse. Hard.

Said neighbor is a former co-worker of Hubby, and a current co-worker of L. Said neighbor has a dog, and a hundred years ago (well, at least over a year, and we think around two years ago), Thor and Malachi jumped the fence and went to play with the neighbor's dog. That's the only time we know about the dogs interacting. Since that time, L has only permitted the dogs into the side yard, that has a large fence and nobody has jumped that fence.

When neighbor got bit today, he announced that the dogs always are jumping the fence and attacking his dog. L didn't even know it had happened. Neighbor came over to talk with L about trimming some bushes, and L opened the door and when Neighbor was done talking with L, he turned and Malachi ran out, did the criminal deed, and L chased him to keep him from running into the street. She had no idea it happened. Neighbor took a picture of the injured area, and showed it to L. L burst into tears, and told us what happened when we arrived to get the dogs, about 5 hours later.

Seeing as how I work with the Poh-lice, and I know that it's against the law not to report an animal bite, I called the PD. I had to explain the story twice to my dispatch co-workers. Hubby went to Neighbor to apologize and to tell him that the police were coming and would need to talk with him (at which point the Neighbor told Hubby that because sometime Neighbor had said hello to Hubby and Hubby didn't acknowledge Neighbor, Neighbor didn't think Hubby was sincere in his apology). Then I had to listen as it was explained to the 3, yes, that's not a typo, 3 officers that came to take the report.

So now Malachi is under quarantine at our house. This means he's locked in the extra bedroom while the other animals are loose in the house. Malachi is not allowed near other animals or people for 10 days. The animal control officer will contact us tomorrow, and I'll get further instructions. We'll most likely be issued a citation and have a mandatory court appearance. Malachi will have a black splotch on his record, and so will Hubby and I.

There's no explanation for Malachi's behavior--he's never been aggressive, and nobody thinks he was provoked. However, about two months ago, before the big fence, there was a teeny-bopper and her friends walking by the little fence, and Malachi jumped the fence and jumped up on the teeny-bopper, scratching her. Mom of teeny-bopper and Hubby met, and agreed there was no bite, but just a scratch...until Mom got home and called the police, where yours truly answered the phone. The officer that responded that time agreed it was just a scratch and there was no proof of a bite--but that was the same officer that responded tonight. So now I look like a jerk in front of my co-workers.

And Malachi's pitiful wails of woe and his whimpers are enough to have me sitting with tears rolling down my face and to have Hubby drinking...something we very rarely do in this house. And the other two dogs just watch us like they are condemning us for being terrible pet parents. Even the cats are hiding from me.

It's painfully obvious to me why we don't have children yet.