Irritating Weekend

I don’t know how much more I can take. Crazy Dog Lady has been pressuring me to come over and solve her computer problems since the last time I was there, back in July. I finally set a date and told her this would be the last trip until after Winter because I am not driving that route in the pouring down rain or snow. Of course, I have to go back in a few weeks for my Court Appearance (provided the case goes to court, that is) but the weekend was supposed to get her all sorted and moving forward again. Sigh.

I really have too many things on my plate right now to justify taking time off to drive two hours (one way) but I know she has no other way to get things ironed out and I try to be a Good Person and not gripe about it too much, but this time very nearly ended with me driving home, never to speak to CDL again.

You see, when I got there she had company. Nevermind that I was “scheduled” to be there and stay in her cottage and we’d had plans for a couple of weeks. She’d double-booked! Okay, fine, it was her niece and she had to leave in a couple of hours anyway. CDL is easily distracted and I had planned to be out of there by noon on Sunday – if we wasted time “visiting” the computer stuff would not get done and I would get progressively more irritated the longer she forced me to stay.

Fine. CDL insisted we take Donna for a walk in the woods since she’s from California and evidently they don’t have woods there? Srsly? I hate hiking. Sabu is not a well behaved dog, and now we’re gonna turn her and her pals loose in the woods? Sure. That couldn’t go wrong….

I changed shoes and we piled into two cars (Sabu can’t ride in CDL’s car and she won’t let any other dogs ride in hers so every time I’m over there we have to drive separately which is a total PITA) and off we went. CDL drives like a maniac but I followed and we made it. Then it’s downhill, uphill, more downhill to the creek and throwing sticks for the dogs to chase. Sabu doesn’t chase sticks. At all. Sabu wallows in the creek and races up and down the trail until she can’t move because she is now an Old Lady Dog. It went better than I thought it would as far as Sabu was concerned but by the time we’d hiked back to the cars I was panting and sore and ready for a nap. No one had mentioned hiking so I hadn’t brought proper shoes and let me tell you, tall muck boots are not made for hiking in the woods!

Then we had to have lunch. Meh. It wasn’t great and there wasn’t a spot in the shade to park my car, making me anxious for Sabu but it was a cool day.

Donna left after lunch and CDL insisted we take the dogs to run on the beach because Sunday’s weather forecast called for rain & wind. Sigh. Okay, fine. We went to the beach but Sabu was pretty much done at that point. CDLs dogs were fairly well behaved but I was not enjoying the gale-force winds whipping sand into my eyes one bit.

We got back to the house and CDL asked me if I wanted to go outside and sit in the sun. Wha….??? I told her it was way to windy for that. Well, she knows a place where we can sit in the sun out of the wind…Uh…no.

And then she nearly slayed me.

“We need to get started on the computer stuff, don’t you think? It’s already after 3:00 and I’m not gonna stay up until 2 AM like you do….” I said.

“I don’t need any computer stuff done,” she replied. “I thought you should come over and relax. Have a vacation!”

She was taken aback at the sight of my eyes bugging out of my head.

“Relax?!?!?!?” I stammered. “I don’t have time to relax! I have four hundred things that need to be done before Winter sets in For Real and relaxing is not one of them!”

I was furious. I tried to recover and not sound like a total bitch, but I had so many other ways to spend my time. Gaaaahhhhhhh!!!

I did my best to be cheerful and get some stuff done, but it was not fun. At all.

While we were chatting at the computer, trying to get some files copied onto a thumb drive, she mentioned that she had someone else “helping” her with the online stuff and couldn’t find her phone number and would I look through the emails so we could call her Sunday morning at 9:30? Uh-huh. CDL doesn’t get up that early, but whatever.

I looked through the emails and discovered that CDL had been emailing with this woman from Arkansas for almost three weeks and that she’d sent all her passwords to her! WTF?!? I reserved judgement until the phone call, which happened late, as CDL was not up when she said she would be and in fact I had to wake her up to make the call. Sigh. I was most unhappy at that point and the rain was falling down sideways already and I was not looking forward to the drive home.

Anyway, turns out this woman has no clue about anything internet related and could not make sense of CDL’s password email. I was suspicious of her going in and she only confirmed my reservations the more we all talked – she was on speaker, of course, so no translations would be necessary.

I was rather gruff with her and refused to give her unlimited access to CDL’s website or Facebook account and I know CDL was put off by that, but I explained later that she doesn’t know this woman, and based on what I heard this woman has no clue what she’s doing. AND CDL is paying her $10 an hour! In fact, she’s already sent her $60, because, “she doesn’t know me, so I had to prove I’m willing to pay her – you wouldn’t work for free, would you?”

Right. I said, “No employer in the world gives people money BEFORE they’ve done any work, and no one in their right mind just hands over the keys to their online life to a perfect stranger!”

Gaaaahhhhhhh!!!

I know some people would praise CDL for being so trusting, but this will end badly, mark my words…

The drive home was every bit as nasty as I thought it would be and I was relieved to get home at last.

The Kid is eager to redeem himself and was sober when I arrived. I’d set him to painting Towanda’s interior and he’s doing a good job. Not as quick as I’d like but I’m not paying him, so it’s fine. The change of color is refreshing and the insulating stuff added to the paint should make Winter a little bit more bearable.

It is SOOOOO Monday!

 

Summoning my Inner Calm…

This week is shaping up to set new records for spiking my blood pressure.

Mom texted me on Tuesday to let me know she’d been subpoenaed to appear in court in Newport for a trial next month. She has to drive 215 miles one way to testify in a domestic case. Well, huh. I was there when the “incident” went down and I hadn’t received my summons, and I was hoping they wouldn’t be calling me but today I got a call from “Restricted” and knew immediately what it was about.

A Sheriff was in the trailer park but I hadn’t given my whole address to the cops on the day of the “incident” so he didn’t know what trailer to knock on and was reluctant to knock until he found me. Of course, I wasn’t even there, so he would have been out of luck. I directed him to my office and he served me and left. Sigh.

After taking a look at who was being tried, well, my blood pressure went through the roof. The wrong person is on trial and I am pissed that it’s even going to trial. A look at the prosecutor and all is now clear.

When I still lived on The Coast, I had Jury Duty. It was a ridiculous waste of time for all parties and I doubt I should go into the details except to say that the attorney for the defense was a young woman who was ill-prepared and, well, idiotic. We the jury convicted because the defense had no case. It was absurd and I left with a bad impression of the defense attorney and her client.

Seems she’s moved up in the world to Deputy District Attorney! OMFG! Granted, it’s been a few years and she must have more experience now, but she has no case if she’s basing it on eye-witness testimony.

Here’s what happened –

Mom and I were at Crazy Dog Lady’s house one Sunday back in July, spreading rock salt onto the weeds in the ditch from the trunk of CDL’s car. I was already angry because killing weeds was not on my agenda for the weekend and we were on a schedule. We were about to get started when I looked up the street and saw a woman walking down the hill towards us. I didn’t think much of it until she started waving her arms and yelling for help.

She started to shuffle-run towards us and a car crested the hill, moving slowly, a woman hanging her head out the window saying, “Just give me my stuff back. You can’t go to work like this. I just want the money you stole from me…” She wasn’t yelling, she wasn’t chasing, she wasn’t threatening at all, IMHO.

The woman (younger by a few years) on foot came rushing up to us, desperate for a phone. She wanted to go into CDL’s house and I held up my hands and told her to stay where she was. Something was very off about her and my hackles were up. She was going on and on about the other woman chasing her and she needed the police and wanted to go inside.

I ran in to get the phone and CDL came running out, phone in hand, asking what was going on. The woman started spinning a tale, and I say it that way because I was watching her work on CDL’s sympathy like a pro. I can’t really explain what I mean, but if you’ve ever dealt with a snake in human skin you know just what I mean – it was fake, engineered, scripted to play heartstrings and not a bit of it was true.

So. I asked the woman from the car if drugs were involved because the woman on foot was coming down from something and it was a bad trip. The woman from the car was sober and had that defeated look on her face that I’ve had myself when you know that the lying asshole is going to get away with it, again, and nothing you say is going to change a thing.

She told me that this has happened before and she’s had to move 5 times in the last year because of the drama caused by the younger woman. I said that maybe this would be a good time to make a clean break and let the drama go. The whole scene felt like something they’d played out many times before.

I’d never met either of these women before, but my narc-dar was ringing like a bell so I was watching them both. The woman from the car was defeated, depressed, humiliated, and just wanting to get out of there, which she did when the police didn’t show up within 15 minutes. She said they could talk to her at home and off she went.

Meanwhile, CDL is calling the police every three minutes, sounding more and more hysterical. Let me assure you, no one was on fire or bleeding, but the woman on foot was winding CDL up like one of those old alarm clocks and CDL was about to blow. I watched the woman very closely and could see that CDL was falling for it hook, line and sinker. When she went inside to get a sweater for the woman, an amazing change took place – the woman’s expression and body language changed completely, from tearful victim to calculating monster. I saw it very clearly. I turned away before she could see that I’d seen and CDL came back out, sweater in hand, and the woman once again became the tearful victim. BUT when she asked me for a cigarette I saw who she was and she saw that I recognized her.

It was a good show – if she knew me she would have shut down the waterworks and tried a different tack, but no, here we are.

So Mom and I spread the salt and the police came. The woman was questioned. CDL was questioned and of course told a tale of victimization because she hadn’t even seen the other woman, so focused was she on the “victim.”

I was questioned and I told the police exactly what I saw, including my opinion that the woman on foot was creating a drama-filled scene and I didn’t believe a word she said. I explained why I thought what I thought. I gave my contact info and went inside to finish crossing things off my list so I could get the fuck out of Crazy Town. Mom gave her statement and that, we thought, was that.

I had a conversation with CDL about the incident later and she was convinced that the woman on foot was horribly abused and needed help. She totally bought the act even though she only had one side of the story. She was called in to testify before the Grand Jury and told the story as she remembered it. Here’s the kicker, though – I was the only one who saw the two women approach, the only one who saw the car actually in motion (a lot of questions were asked about if the car was “chasing” the woman on foot) and I was not called to testify then – doubtless there would have been no case because I am not a bleeding heart who believes alligator tears and would have told the Whole Story as I’d seen it unfold, but there ya go.

I dunno. Now I have to appear in court and I am not happy about it. If the prosecutor is calling Mom and me to testify, don’t you think she would have deposed us? She has no idea what we might say on the stand, especially considering the wrong woman is on trial. I would think the notes the police took make my position clear on the matter, but maybe she is as green as she appeared the last time I saw her.

I mean, doesn’t she watch How to Get Away With Murder? Annalise would never ask a question she didn’t know the answer to or put an unknown witness on the stand, especially if all evidence points to said witness being hostile to her client.

As if that’s not enough, The Kid was drunk when I got home from work last night. Not a little tipsy. Not enjoying a little buzz. Fall down, slurring, stupid, pass-out drunk. He was awake when I got there but my silent fury caused him to go outside and pass out in a chair on the patio in full view of all my neighbors. Towanda smelled like a frat house.

By this morning I had calmed down enough to yell at him without putting my hands around his skinny neck or calling him names. It seems, contrary to his protestations, that if he has cash in his pocket he will spend it on booze. Fine. I told him he could do whatever he wants to do with his cash but I don’t have to live with it. I’ve been here before and I don’t have to live like this. I didn’t kick him out in August because it looked like he had some prospects and he had an attitude change and was helping me with some chores I just couldn’t get to but my patience is at an end.

Stay tuned.

 

Seems all I do is bitch around here…

Life has been very busy around here of late, most of it going just slightly off center in the most irritating of ways – hanging the skirt on Towanda and discovering the sticky snaps don’t stick, losing the base of not one, but two dress forms that I needed to set up a display in the local Art Guild Shop, having the scheduled time for said display set up moved to a completely different day at the last minute, like I have all the time in the world to do this shit, The Kid still being unemployed and needing a haircut, just to name a few.

But this post isn’t about most of that. It’s about (again) assholes and petty thievery.

A week or so ago, The Kid and I were working on Towanda’s skirts (not yet aware of the snap problem) and I moved my bicycle from where it was chained (totally in the way and I wasn’t using it anyway) to laying under the trailer, mostly out of sight of casual passersby. All was well.

On Sunday afternoon, Yvonne and I were outside talking over her tomato plants when we observed a young woman with a baby stroller enter the park, phone in hand, looking at the screen and turning this way and that, almost like she was lost and looking at a map or something. We remarked upon it but soon went back to more important discussions* and forgot about her.

Sabu has been particularly growly in the evenings, for lack of a better term, waking and stalking about growling low in her throat and even barking on occasion. I put it down to her being cranky at not having her usual number of outings at the dog park and figured it was just her arch-nemisis, Scooter, out strutting around like he owns the place (in his mind, he does. They’re basically the same dog in two bodies) and told her to hush.

Last night after I’d gotten in bed I heard a sound like a door slamming. Sabu jumped up and barked a couple of times but we didn’t go outside. All was quiet after that and I thought no more about it.

This morning when I took Sabu out for her morning walk I noticed a piece of metal siding I’d stashed under the trailer lying in the grass. The siding had been under my bicycle. A closer look confirmed the bike is gone. The thief must have pulled the bike out, it got caught on the siding and the sound I heard last night was the siding crashing about as they made off with my bike.

Fuck. It was not an expensive bike, but it was mine and the thought of fucking tweakers making off with my stuff boils my blood! So far in the last three months or so a couple of bikes have gone missing in the park as well as two bike trailers. My guess is that the girl with the stroller was casing the park to report back to the thieves where the easy pickings were to be found. Yvonne said she’d seen her a few times, wandering around like she was looking for someone.

So now I’ve become a victim of theft. I am hopping mad. I do not own a gun, but I do have a high-powered taser and the desire to see just what it does to a human being. If Sabu gets growly again, well, we’re gonna hurry outside and have ourselves a little look-see. Pretty sure I won’t go to jail for tasering a would-be thief, but I’m willing to take the chance at this point.

Life is getting too irritating to bear right now, what with the Peri-menopausal rages, wildly irregular periods and now I think I’m having hot flashes during the day and I’m waking up at night because I’m too hot. Me! Too hot under two thin blankets in fucking October! If you knew me at all you would be picking your jaw up off the floor at that last sentence, I assure you. Cold in the morning, flashes of hot during the afternoon, cold in the evening, despite adding layers and the temp being in the mid-60’s, and waking up in the middle of the night to throw off the covers.

Fuck. Just fuck.

* Like whether Drug Dealing Dave is really dealing drugs (yup! I’d stake my reputation on it) or whether we should give him the benefit of the doubt (Yvonne’s idea – she thinks he’s getting a bad rap based on stories he’s told her that don’t come anywhere close to adding up.) He’s still in the park, despite the efforts of The Old Ladies to get him out. They’re calling the Sheriff regularly about the excessive traffic of his “friends” but Management (Ha! what a joke!) at the park remains convinced that he’s a Good Guy, but they are very likely customers in his meth trade…OMG! I am so furious over the whole situation, I can’t tell you! Meanwhile, the tweaker parades have stopped being so obvious but Drug Dealing Dave races into and out of the park multiple times each evening and Management will hear nothing about it. There is no other explanation for his activities or the traffic around his trailer. None. Not even in the wildest, kindest, most ignorant imaginings of a total moron.