It's 0200 on Christmas morning, and I'm feeling like Scrooge still.
So we all know I work graveyards, and my regular schedule is Tuesday through Friday nights. I sleep for hours when I'm not at work so that I don't totally screw up my system. This weekend, though, I made an effort to screw up my system just so that this morning, Christmas, I could go and be with people that don't like me.
To put it mildly, my in-laws don't particularly care for me. I don't think I ever cross their minds, other than when it's the holidays and they realize that they have to tolerate me for a couple of hours. Hubby and I have been married for 7 years, and we were together for just over 2 years prior to getting married, so there's 9 years of resentment on my behalf. In-laws say things that I find rude and disrespectful to Hubby, and it makes me mad (things about him not having a real job and therefore he'd never understand travelling for work--this was like 6 years ago, and it still makes me mad). In-laws tell private jokes around me and don't include me--and since we only see them once a year or so (despite the fact that we live less than a mile away from them), it's hard to learn the jokes when you're having to guess at them. In-laws make comments about me not having a college degree, and therefore I'm stupid or wasting my life--never mind that I was the responsible one with a full time job and a home owner at 19; nor the fact that I'm the only one out of my sibling-in-laws and even Hubby that has never lost a job.
Hubby and I had a really rough couple of years, and even separated for a while. Of course, according to in-laws, it was my fault--and they even knew most of the story. That Christmas, Hubby was invited to go to Colorado to be with them, but I wasn't--although we were trying to work on our marriage, and we were still married. I haven't seen the in-laws for more than say a half hour since we were separated, and it's been a couple of years now. But I'm sure I'm the paranoid one and it's not that they hate me.
So anyway, this year, we were supposed to go to Colorado for Christmas. We weren't invited, it's more like Hubby told his mom that I got the time off and we were planning to join them up there for the holidays. I did get the time off, and they moved Christmas back here. I then sort of felt guilty for taking the week off, and we lost someone at work, and I was assigned a trainee that would have had to just sit there all week long, so I agreed to give up my leave and work all week. Trouble began to rear its ugly head when I remembered that in-laws celebrate on Christmas morning...and I ended up with extra hours at work on top of my regularly scheduled 40 hours.
Hubby asked in-laws if this year we could have brunch and I would be up and functioning by 1100. In-laws called yesterday to say that they were having brunch at 1000 and Hubby said he'd be there. Is it me or is this really like a rude gesture? What the heck is wrong with waiting one more hour? I seriously am offended. And what's wrong with Hubby that he didn't say to them, gee too bad--Kate and I will be there at 1100 like I told you we could be. Hubby tells me that this is much later than they wanted it to be--and I told Hubby that he should have just told them to do whatever they really wanted since one hour obviously meant the world to them. Considering that I am the one that's responsible for providing police/fire/EMS to the whole freaking community, I don't think it's wrong of me to want to have at least 5 hours of sleep in me before going in to work for a 12 hour shift. I think it would be incredibly irresponsible and WRONG to not sleep and then I put the community--and much more importantly, my officers and firefighters--in harms way when I'm falling asleep at work and am sluggish.
So I have spent this whole weekend trying to readjust to day time, which is futile. I was awake all night long on Saturday night, and went to sleep around 0700. Then Sunday night I was awake all night long and went to sleep around 0800. And I spent most of yesterday in bed, sleeping until 1600 and then falling back asleep at 0900--and so now it's 0200 and I'm wide awake. I have to work tonight from 1830 until tomorrow morning at 0630, and I'm thinking things don't look good. There's not enough energy drinks in the world to propel me through 26 hours of life and to keep me a reasonable human being.
And now there's the whole in-law dilemma. They got their way of keeping me out by having the blasted brunch earlier than I said I could be there--and Hubby told them I wouldn't actually come until after noonish--but if I'm awake, can I really let Hubby go without me so I can sulk for a couple of hours? Or do I go to show them? Do I go and leave right after to go home to bed? We're supposed to go to my parents' house around 1630 for presents and dinner before I go to work--a place that we're both welcome and always have been welcome even in the midst of crap--and I'd much rather just go there and skip the in-laws. Who wants to go somewhere they're not welcome and are treated poorly when they could be at a comforting place?
And who says that Christmas has to be spent with family anyway?
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Holiday Spirit
You know how people are always saying "in the spirit of Christmas" or something of the sort? Here's my horrid thoughts on it this year.
We took my parents to see "Christmas in Dublin," a show in Albuquerque that was to feature the Three Irish Tenors, the Irish Divas and maybe something else...I can't really remember any more. The day started with the long drive down, which we did separately because I of course had to go into work immediately following the show (although it was my day off--this is an increasingly common theme). This meant that we had to go to lunch with the 'rents instead of dinner with them, and we didn't get to invite my brother to join us because lunch is WAY before his waking hour. So we go to lunch (I of course have had 2.5 hours of sleep because I worked extra the day before), and then we head off to the parking structure. My parents drive a bug...a little electric blue Volkswagen. They were directly behind us. Hubby zips into a parking space, and Dad takes the bug the other direction and throws it into reverse to back into a spot one up from us. As the reverse lights come on the bug, a huge donkey (of course that's not really the word I want to use to describe him) in a large sedan pulls up and goes into the spot that Dad was beginning to back up into. Never mind that all over the parking structure, other New Mexicans with an ounce of common courtesy are waiting for other vehicles to back into the parking spaces as Dad was intending to do because it makes it much faster when it's time to filter out of the spot if you can just pull out into the line. Anyway, Hubby has gone to get the tickets from the office, and Donkey says to me "Wonder who gave that guy his license" referring to Dad who is now trying to back up into the spot next to the large sedan Donkey has parked ONE THE WHITE LINE (and that drives me nuts--even if Donkey hadn't already just shown terrible driver etiquette, he would have teed me off with the parking on the white line). So I say sweetly to Donkey "THAT man is my father, and he was reversing into the spot you just raced into." Donkey doesn't even look ashamed. Donkey's wife is trying to unload Grandma out of the back seat with the door flung open into the spot Dad is now trying to back into. Donkey's wife is glancing at Donkey and I and shaking her head as if the whole dilemma is Dad's fault. Here's another thought--we were like 35+ minutes before the show even was scheduled to start. It's not like an extra 5 minutes would have made anyone late for the show.
The other issue is that my family motto is "don't get mad; get even," so Dad comes raring out of the bug (he's 6'2 and I'd guess around 350 lbs., so take a minute to picture this climbing out of a bug) and is ready to charge the Donkey and his family. I too am mad, but then it occurs to me that Grandma had a walker and we have handicapped seating inside the theater, and what if we now have to sit next to Donkey? I was in total fear of this possibility--but that didn't happen. What was the point of holding onto the anger really? Everybody attending had spent good money for the show, it was about Christmas, and it was lovely. I guess the whole incident had me thinking that common sense and courtesy has totally escaped the world and I don't know why. And I'm having a hard enough time feeling the love of the season (let me be clear--I love the Reason for the season, and I know He loves me and I'm not doubting that--I'm doubting the rest of humanity) without spending my fun family holiday time with a Donkey and his attitude.
Of course my terrible thoughts about the holiday spirit are that really the world has changed more into what can I get and not celebrating the birth of my Savior. I'm almost over the Santa Claus thing--I think he's pretty cute, and while my children will never wait for gifts from him or sit with him, he can be a fun thing like the Coke Polar Bears are a fun thing. To me, Christmas is about 1st) the birth of Christ; 2nd) time with family and friends; and 3rd) Christmas letters and cards.
I love getting Christmas letters because let's be honest, I like to see what everybody else has been up to, and these letters are the perfect brag time. There's almost always a common theme, and when I write a letter/posting, I feel that I have to do the same thing. Sentences are always such as the "We traveled the whole world twice and are ready to embark on our third trip"; "we've adopted a third world child and have singlehandedly rebuilt a village in her honor;" "little James has completed college at the age of 4 and is beginning medical school next year;" "we have built our new home and it is called the Taj Mahal III;" "Hubby has promoted so much that he's now known as Lord and Master instead of just Hubby at work;" and pictures of everybody's too cute for words children are always included. I love to see the children--I've always loved kids. I love to hear that others are achieving their goals and that it's been a good year for them. I joke with my mom that I may just borrow a line from everyone else's Christmas letter and send it out as my own, because I think my life is truly too boring to be relayed. If I had kids, maybe I'd have more fun stories. I don't know. In all honesty, when I start to write a letter, it occurs to me that there is so much else that we should have been focusing on throughout the year, and ways that we should have been spending our time, and then I get bummed, and then slowly and surely the spirit sneaks out of me bit by bit.
You wouldn't know that this is my favorite time of year by the way I've been feeling/acting this year. I guess this post is a definite example of that. I've been assured by many of my officers that the best way to get into the holiday spirit is with "spirits" (you know, Jack and Jim), but I'm hoping that it's more like when I see my family and friends, the true meaning of Christmas will wrap me up and propel me to a happier mood. And I hope it also promotes a better attitude towards Hubby's family that in going on 10 years with Hubby I've been yet to find. If it doesn't, you'll see a spirit of fire about me on the 26th :)
Happy Holidays!
We took my parents to see "Christmas in Dublin," a show in Albuquerque that was to feature the Three Irish Tenors, the Irish Divas and maybe something else...I can't really remember any more. The day started with the long drive down, which we did separately because I of course had to go into work immediately following the show (although it was my day off--this is an increasingly common theme). This meant that we had to go to lunch with the 'rents instead of dinner with them, and we didn't get to invite my brother to join us because lunch is WAY before his waking hour. So we go to lunch (I of course have had 2.5 hours of sleep because I worked extra the day before), and then we head off to the parking structure. My parents drive a bug...a little electric blue Volkswagen. They were directly behind us. Hubby zips into a parking space, and Dad takes the bug the other direction and throws it into reverse to back into a spot one up from us. As the reverse lights come on the bug, a huge donkey (of course that's not really the word I want to use to describe him) in a large sedan pulls up and goes into the spot that Dad was beginning to back up into. Never mind that all over the parking structure, other New Mexicans with an ounce of common courtesy are waiting for other vehicles to back into the parking spaces as Dad was intending to do because it makes it much faster when it's time to filter out of the spot if you can just pull out into the line. Anyway, Hubby has gone to get the tickets from the office, and Donkey says to me "Wonder who gave that guy his license" referring to Dad who is now trying to back up into the spot next to the large sedan Donkey has parked ONE THE WHITE LINE (and that drives me nuts--even if Donkey hadn't already just shown terrible driver etiquette, he would have teed me off with the parking on the white line). So I say sweetly to Donkey "THAT man is my father, and he was reversing into the spot you just raced into." Donkey doesn't even look ashamed. Donkey's wife is trying to unload Grandma out of the back seat with the door flung open into the spot Dad is now trying to back into. Donkey's wife is glancing at Donkey and I and shaking her head as if the whole dilemma is Dad's fault. Here's another thought--we were like 35+ minutes before the show even was scheduled to start. It's not like an extra 5 minutes would have made anyone late for the show.
The other issue is that my family motto is "don't get mad; get even," so Dad comes raring out of the bug (he's 6'2 and I'd guess around 350 lbs., so take a minute to picture this climbing out of a bug) and is ready to charge the Donkey and his family. I too am mad, but then it occurs to me that Grandma had a walker and we have handicapped seating inside the theater, and what if we now have to sit next to Donkey? I was in total fear of this possibility--but that didn't happen. What was the point of holding onto the anger really? Everybody attending had spent good money for the show, it was about Christmas, and it was lovely. I guess the whole incident had me thinking that common sense and courtesy has totally escaped the world and I don't know why. And I'm having a hard enough time feeling the love of the season (let me be clear--I love the Reason for the season, and I know He loves me and I'm not doubting that--I'm doubting the rest of humanity) without spending my fun family holiday time with a Donkey and his attitude.
Of course my terrible thoughts about the holiday spirit are that really the world has changed more into what can I get and not celebrating the birth of my Savior. I'm almost over the Santa Claus thing--I think he's pretty cute, and while my children will never wait for gifts from him or sit with him, he can be a fun thing like the Coke Polar Bears are a fun thing. To me, Christmas is about 1st) the birth of Christ; 2nd) time with family and friends; and 3rd) Christmas letters and cards.
I love getting Christmas letters because let's be honest, I like to see what everybody else has been up to, and these letters are the perfect brag time. There's almost always a common theme, and when I write a letter/posting, I feel that I have to do the same thing. Sentences are always such as the "We traveled the whole world twice and are ready to embark on our third trip"; "we've adopted a third world child and have singlehandedly rebuilt a village in her honor;" "little James has completed college at the age of 4 and is beginning medical school next year;" "we have built our new home and it is called the Taj Mahal III;" "Hubby has promoted so much that he's now known as Lord and Master instead of just Hubby at work;" and pictures of everybody's too cute for words children are always included. I love to see the children--I've always loved kids. I love to hear that others are achieving their goals and that it's been a good year for them. I joke with my mom that I may just borrow a line from everyone else's Christmas letter and send it out as my own, because I think my life is truly too boring to be relayed. If I had kids, maybe I'd have more fun stories. I don't know. In all honesty, when I start to write a letter, it occurs to me that there is so much else that we should have been focusing on throughout the year, and ways that we should have been spending our time, and then I get bummed, and then slowly and surely the spirit sneaks out of me bit by bit.
You wouldn't know that this is my favorite time of year by the way I've been feeling/acting this year. I guess this post is a definite example of that. I've been assured by many of my officers that the best way to get into the holiday spirit is with "spirits" (you know, Jack and Jim), but I'm hoping that it's more like when I see my family and friends, the true meaning of Christmas will wrap me up and propel me to a happier mood. And I hope it also promotes a better attitude towards Hubby's family that in going on 10 years with Hubby I've been yet to find. If it doesn't, you'll see a spirit of fire about me on the 26th :)
Happy Holidays!
Monday, December 3, 2007
The Healing Power of Giraffe Spit
We have just literally arrived home from a whirlwind weekend in Phoenix.
We have some fabulous friends in Phoenix, and each year, Hubby says--hey, let's go harass them and visit them while we spend every penny we've made all year long on Christmas gifts.
Ok, so that's not really how it goes. However, Hubby is good to me, and he knows I miss these friends, and he misses them, and they're really good to both Hubby and me because they let us visit each year, and each year they actually invite us back!
So we booked it out there on Friday, and after 8 hours in a car, most of which I slept because I'd just gotten off work and was grumpy and hungry and desperately in need of some zzz's, we arrived on K&A's doorstep. K&A whisked us in, let me get cleaned up, and we were off on a grownup date because their daughters had plans that night. We ate out, laughed a lot, and began our shopping.
Every year I get us in what could possibly be over our heads, but God is truly great, and He always has the bigger plan worked out beyond what I can see. My sorority has run the local Adopt A Family program for several years, and Hubby and I have always adopted--not always officially. Usually, some family ends up being the only family not adopted, or somehow their Adopters forget the delivery date, or misunderstand the program, and Hubby and I (along with begging my bleeding heart parents--it's genetic, I come by it honestly) race out and purchase items for these cases. The last two years, Hubby and I have intentionally adopted a family and then still done last minute madness. Even the year that we lived in the wealthiest community in NM, and yet made less than $25K/year combined and paid over $300/month solely in utility bills, Hubby and I maxed out our cards to be sure that others were taken care of for the holiday.
I'm not trying to brag, and I sincerely don't run around screaming "look at us and what we do;" I'm sharing this for a couple of reasons. The first and foremost being that no matter what our situation, we've always been able to pay off Adopt A Family come January. A surprise refund, profit-sharing when Hubby worked private sector, Christmas bonuses when I worked private sector, a winning poker game, whatever--we've never gone into debt for longer than we had to pay it off before interest. I really believe that this because God knows what's on our hearts, and He knows how blessed we already are, but He also knows that there's always a greater lesson every year that we learn during Adopt A Family, and He always provides.
We don't deliberately run up debt thinking that God will magically pay it off--we're completely prepared to pay it off in whatever way we have to. I don't want to sound glib about it. It is never a good idea to go further into debt for anything. However, we know that we make a ridiculous amount of money and that we have an absurd amount of crap that wasn't necessary--and if we can jack up our bills on non-necessities, we can certainly do it for a family that asks for toothbrushes for Christmas.
So there we were in Phoenix, doing our typical I want to buy everything on the list (we have a family of 6 this year) and Hubby doing his they don't need everything, when I somehow just lost it. In the middle of the little girls clothing section. Even the little saleshelp tried to pretend she didn't see me. I don't know if it's the season, or the time of month, or the fact that I was on the eve of turning another year older and realizing that life isn't what I thought it was--not good and not bad, but we'll go into that on another post--but I just started to cry. And I realized that this really sucked. We could only make a tiny difference for a day with a physical something, and it wasn't enough. And I remembered the lady last year that prayed so hard that her grandson (she was a disabled grandmother raising a 12 yoa boy) would have gotten snow boots because it snowed the day of the deliveries and he hadn't had any to wear to school, and sure enough there were the boots. So I cried some more, and Hubby tried to put me together again, and we finished for the night.
The next day was more shopping, and wouldn't you know it if Hubby didn't disappear around a couple of aisles and return with something that almost made me cry again? Everyone in the family needs jackets, and the littlest two need diapers, all children need toothbrushes, and the little boy needed a used car seat. And none of that was fun for a child, so I wanted to find toys and coloring books and dolls and Tonka trucks. After we bought everything on the list (well, we're missing Mom's jacket because I can't find a winter all purpose coat for women in Phoenix--go figure), I thought that Hubby would strangle me for also wanting a new car seat, and I was planning to call the hospital for a donation. Here comes Hubby around the baby aisles, and there's a brand new car seat on top of the basket. I don't know how I didn't lose it in the middle of that store too. I think he was relieved not to have waterworks less than 12 hours apart too!
After the second day of shopping, we went with K&A to their church (it was fun! plus, we don't usually get to see other churches when we travel, and I like that!), and then we went to dinner, where I think I spent too much time between meals (11am-8pm is longer than my grazing schedule normally allows), and I think I was drained, so I got a headache and pretty much collapsed and was no fun once we got back to K&A's house. Sorry I was a bummer if you read this!
So after we bought for our families and jacked up some credit cards for our siblings and parents, and then, as all good traveling exhausted couples do, especially when one is not feeling well, we hit the road to come home. We left at noonish, and by the time we grabbed lunch and were leaving Anthem outlet area, we were fighting. I don't know why we both claim to like traveling when it always includes a day of arguing loudly with each other and at least one of us (not me unless there are two of us doing so, of course) pouting in the car. This time I was driving, and I cranked up Carrie Underwood's new CD that's slightly angrier than the Christmas music and the hymns we had in the Jeep. In my best put off voice I announced that we were now passing the Wildlife thing I always wanted to see but of course never got to see when the great Pout became a martyr and announced we could go, so he'd look like the good guy. Trying to fix him, I pulled over, and we paid $60 for a 2 hour entrance to the park.
Watching the personnel feed raw meat (think heads and such) to lions and jaguars and bears and cougars and tigers and hyenas and wolves put us in a better mood. By the time it was time for the safari adventure (or whatever it's called), and the guide gave everyone a cookie for the giraffe, we were talking and smiling. And by the time the giraffe nuzzled each of us and ate out of our hands, we were ready to be married and in a car together again. Definitely recommend paying $60 to get slobbered on if it means you can remain married and travel home together.
Of course, I needed the giraffe again when Hubby ate corn chips that stunk up the car and I was grouchy about it. Hubby needed the giraffe when I got mad at the jerk in the truck hauling a trailer that didn't move to the left when I was trying to merge back onto I40 and flipped the truck off. Maybe I needed a giraffe again then too. And we both needed the giraffe each time we realized that by now Kiddo has landed in Iraq.
Maybe they loan out the giraffe? Or maybe they at least bottle the spit?
We have some fabulous friends in Phoenix, and each year, Hubby says--hey, let's go harass them and visit them while we spend every penny we've made all year long on Christmas gifts.
Ok, so that's not really how it goes. However, Hubby is good to me, and he knows I miss these friends, and he misses them, and they're really good to both Hubby and me because they let us visit each year, and each year they actually invite us back!
So we booked it out there on Friday, and after 8 hours in a car, most of which I slept because I'd just gotten off work and was grumpy and hungry and desperately in need of some zzz's, we arrived on K&A's doorstep. K&A whisked us in, let me get cleaned up, and we were off on a grownup date because their daughters had plans that night. We ate out, laughed a lot, and began our shopping.
Every year I get us in what could possibly be over our heads, but God is truly great, and He always has the bigger plan worked out beyond what I can see. My sorority has run the local Adopt A Family program for several years, and Hubby and I have always adopted--not always officially. Usually, some family ends up being the only family not adopted, or somehow their Adopters forget the delivery date, or misunderstand the program, and Hubby and I (along with begging my bleeding heart parents--it's genetic, I come by it honestly) race out and purchase items for these cases. The last two years, Hubby and I have intentionally adopted a family and then still done last minute madness. Even the year that we lived in the wealthiest community in NM, and yet made less than $25K/year combined and paid over $300/month solely in utility bills, Hubby and I maxed out our cards to be sure that others were taken care of for the holiday.
I'm not trying to brag, and I sincerely don't run around screaming "look at us and what we do;" I'm sharing this for a couple of reasons. The first and foremost being that no matter what our situation, we've always been able to pay off Adopt A Family come January. A surprise refund, profit-sharing when Hubby worked private sector, Christmas bonuses when I worked private sector, a winning poker game, whatever--we've never gone into debt for longer than we had to pay it off before interest. I really believe that this because God knows what's on our hearts, and He knows how blessed we already are, but He also knows that there's always a greater lesson every year that we learn during Adopt A Family, and He always provides.
We don't deliberately run up debt thinking that God will magically pay it off--we're completely prepared to pay it off in whatever way we have to. I don't want to sound glib about it. It is never a good idea to go further into debt for anything. However, we know that we make a ridiculous amount of money and that we have an absurd amount of crap that wasn't necessary--and if we can jack up our bills on non-necessities, we can certainly do it for a family that asks for toothbrushes for Christmas.
So there we were in Phoenix, doing our typical I want to buy everything on the list (we have a family of 6 this year) and Hubby doing his they don't need everything, when I somehow just lost it. In the middle of the little girls clothing section. Even the little saleshelp tried to pretend she didn't see me. I don't know if it's the season, or the time of month, or the fact that I was on the eve of turning another year older and realizing that life isn't what I thought it was--not good and not bad, but we'll go into that on another post--but I just started to cry. And I realized that this really sucked. We could only make a tiny difference for a day with a physical something, and it wasn't enough. And I remembered the lady last year that prayed so hard that her grandson (she was a disabled grandmother raising a 12 yoa boy) would have gotten snow boots because it snowed the day of the deliveries and he hadn't had any to wear to school, and sure enough there were the boots. So I cried some more, and Hubby tried to put me together again, and we finished for the night.
The next day was more shopping, and wouldn't you know it if Hubby didn't disappear around a couple of aisles and return with something that almost made me cry again? Everyone in the family needs jackets, and the littlest two need diapers, all children need toothbrushes, and the little boy needed a used car seat. And none of that was fun for a child, so I wanted to find toys and coloring books and dolls and Tonka trucks. After we bought everything on the list (well, we're missing Mom's jacket because I can't find a winter all purpose coat for women in Phoenix--go figure), I thought that Hubby would strangle me for also wanting a new car seat, and I was planning to call the hospital for a donation. Here comes Hubby around the baby aisles, and there's a brand new car seat on top of the basket. I don't know how I didn't lose it in the middle of that store too. I think he was relieved not to have waterworks less than 12 hours apart too!
After the second day of shopping, we went with K&A to their church (it was fun! plus, we don't usually get to see other churches when we travel, and I like that!), and then we went to dinner, where I think I spent too much time between meals (11am-8pm is longer than my grazing schedule normally allows), and I think I was drained, so I got a headache and pretty much collapsed and was no fun once we got back to K&A's house. Sorry I was a bummer if you read this!
So after we bought for our families and jacked up some credit cards for our siblings and parents, and then, as all good traveling exhausted couples do, especially when one is not feeling well, we hit the road to come home. We left at noonish, and by the time we grabbed lunch and were leaving Anthem outlet area, we were fighting. I don't know why we both claim to like traveling when it always includes a day of arguing loudly with each other and at least one of us (not me unless there are two of us doing so, of course) pouting in the car. This time I was driving, and I cranked up Carrie Underwood's new CD that's slightly angrier than the Christmas music and the hymns we had in the Jeep. In my best put off voice I announced that we were now passing the Wildlife thing I always wanted to see but of course never got to see when the great Pout became a martyr and announced we could go, so he'd look like the good guy. Trying to fix him, I pulled over, and we paid $60 for a 2 hour entrance to the park.
Watching the personnel feed raw meat (think heads and such) to lions and jaguars and bears and cougars and tigers and hyenas and wolves put us in a better mood. By the time it was time for the safari adventure (or whatever it's called), and the guide gave everyone a cookie for the giraffe, we were talking and smiling. And by the time the giraffe nuzzled each of us and ate out of our hands, we were ready to be married and in a car together again. Definitely recommend paying $60 to get slobbered on if it means you can remain married and travel home together.
Of course, I needed the giraffe again when Hubby ate corn chips that stunk up the car and I was grouchy about it. Hubby needed the giraffe when I got mad at the jerk in the truck hauling a trailer that didn't move to the left when I was trying to merge back onto I40 and flipped the truck off. Maybe I needed a giraffe again then too. And we both needed the giraffe each time we realized that by now Kiddo has landed in Iraq.
Maybe they loan out the giraffe? Or maybe they at least bottle the spit?
Monday, November 26, 2007
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 :)
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 :)
Friday, November 23, 2007
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 :)
That's rhetorical of course :)
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