To all those out there who have never owned or managed property, this post might come as a shocker. To those that have, a few sympathetic face-palms might be in order. Make sure your hands are clean and your makeup set in place before proceeding.
Evicting someone.
Should be pretty straightforward, right? Someone breaches their lease, and so since the contract has been violated, end of story.
Right?
Nope.
Turns out, in everything BUT property management, a variation of the above process takes place. But in property management, everything has a PROCESS. Because the unit being misused, abused, or not being paid for is that person's "HOME". And we can't take away someone's "home".
Never mind the fact that they haven't paid rent.
Or that they live like an animal.
Or that they're an all around, sketchy, not good person.
It's their "home".
So. In a nutshell, here is the process, in BC, to evict a tenant:
First, you need a reason to get rid of someone. The fastest way is for non-payment of rent. That being said, the process is still not fast. In a nutshell, here it is:
Step 1: On the day after the rent is due, you can issue a 10-day notice for eviction. If the tenant doesn't pay within 5 days, you can go and file for an Order of Possession.
Step 2: If you have all the relevant paperwork, you can file for what is called a "direct request". What that means is that the Residential Tenancy Branch will issue an Order of Possession without an arbitration. If you, like us, are following in the footsteps of some truly sup-par managers (to put it kindly), you have to file for "dispute resolution".
Step 3: Wait.
Step 4: Receive the order of possession, or the notice for an arbitration date. Usually, the arbitration date is at least a month away. So, not only have you not received rent, but you WILL not receive rent until at least that date. Joy.
Step 5: Serve the paperwork to the tenant.
Step 6: Wait.
Step 7: If you have an order of possession, a lot of times tenants will up and leave. And then you have
a. Missing Rent
b. Hauling fees (for all the crap they left behind)
c. An empty, sometimes badly in need of renovation apartment.
Step 8: If the tenant doesn't leave, you go to the Supreme Court of BC and pay $120 for a writ of possession.
Step 9: Hire the Bailiffs. Pay them $2000.
Step 10: Wait for the bailiffs to come and physically remove the tenant and their things from the unit.
Now. If you have an arbitration, you have to attend the arbitration, argue your case, and then proceed with Step 4 onward.
Now lets say you have another cause for getting rid of someone - that they are in breach of their lease, or something.
Or, in my case, that their guests have repeatedly threatened to kill you.
You have to issue the tenant a "breach letter".
You have to wait 2 weeks.
You have to re-inspect the issue.
If it isn't resolved, you can issue and one-month notice to end tenancy.
However, one-month notices are misleading - they take effect at the END of the following month.
So let's say I issue a one-month notice to the tenant with the threatening guests.
He has about a month and a half to continue living there, and allow his guest to continue to threaten me. If you, like me, find death threats an unacceptable work environment, and call the non-emergency police, you'll find that there's not much they can do.
Because this is a civil case.
This month, I have the following:
2 writs of possession/bailiff appointments
1 arbitration
1 one month eviction notice for cause (an illegal tenant)
So next time you meet a grumpy landlord or property manager, just remember - this is the absolute BULLSHIT we deal with on a daily basis.
And now you know why fixing your oven that says the wrong temperature, but still works is not our highest priority.
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
Sunday, February 21, 2016
Lessons from Armenia: Nostalgia for something I've never experienced
A million years ago, in a different lifetime, I lived in Armenia. Lived is a generous term; I survived there for a few months. That debacle is a story for another time.
One of my first visits to anyone in Armenia was to a lovely, tiny woman who owned a glass-walled fruit and vegetable stand. After arriving, it became dark, so I felt like I was on a stage in the lit, freezing cold hut. I mentioned to my companion that nature was calling - so she kindly expressed that to the shack owner in Armenian.
The two of them stood up, exited the shack, and the tiny woman placed a bucket full of sand and hay in the middle of the floor. They turned off the lights, stood outside, and turned their backs on me.
It dawned on me what was expected. I smiled, being a veteran of receiving myself in inopportune moments. After removing my many layers, I squatted over the bucket and took care of business, watched only by over-ripe persimmons and a small basket of knitting.
After the bucket had been removed, and we were sitting again, the tiny woman noticed how cold I was. She offered to knit me a thick, wool underskirt and a sweater. I acquiesced, and we made our way home through the ice and grime encrusted streets.
Over the next few weeks, I watched my projects take shape - a thick, soft wool of deep maroon was the chosen color. The skirt was finished first - a 1/2 inch thick, rib knit sweater for my legs. I wore that thing EVERY DAY.
The sweater came later. It was cabled, and had lovely buttons that matched the yarn. It also had a hood, that was slightly pointed.
The truth is, I never really used that sweater. I've kept it - safely, happily, but never really worn it. All the 1st world factory made piece of crap clothing has come in and out of my closet, sometimes barely making it one or two washes before needed to be retired.
Now that I'm once again, living in a cold country in a building without heat (or, in this case, without AFFORDABLE heat), I find myself wearing this sweater on a daily basis.
And OH MY GOSH IS IT WARM. And snuggly, and well made.
I'm finding myself reminiscing for a time when things were are hand built, handmade, and valued. Not these $5 leggings that last for 2 weeks before a seam splits or the fabric goes see-through - but real, hand woven fabric with girth and warmth and soul. I'm finding I'm wishing for a fireplace to keep me warm - something that can be fuelled by by own labour, each day, rather than bleeding at the end of each month for stuffy, soul-less warmth. I find I'm wishing for a garden, and a loom, and time to sit and knit on my porch. Time to understand the value of good, beautiful things, and time to create them.
I find I'm feeling nostalgic for a time that I haven't lived in; craving a lifestyle I've never known.
I guess for now, I've got the sweater, right?
One of my first visits to anyone in Armenia was to a lovely, tiny woman who owned a glass-walled fruit and vegetable stand. After arriving, it became dark, so I felt like I was on a stage in the lit, freezing cold hut. I mentioned to my companion that nature was calling - so she kindly expressed that to the shack owner in Armenian.
The two of them stood up, exited the shack, and the tiny woman placed a bucket full of sand and hay in the middle of the floor. They turned off the lights, stood outside, and turned their backs on me.
It dawned on me what was expected. I smiled, being a veteran of receiving myself in inopportune moments. After removing my many layers, I squatted over the bucket and took care of business, watched only by over-ripe persimmons and a small basket of knitting.
After the bucket had been removed, and we were sitting again, the tiny woman noticed how cold I was. She offered to knit me a thick, wool underskirt and a sweater. I acquiesced, and we made our way home through the ice and grime encrusted streets.
Over the next few weeks, I watched my projects take shape - a thick, soft wool of deep maroon was the chosen color. The skirt was finished first - a 1/2 inch thick, rib knit sweater for my legs. I wore that thing EVERY DAY.
The sweater came later. It was cabled, and had lovely buttons that matched the yarn. It also had a hood, that was slightly pointed.
The truth is, I never really used that sweater. I've kept it - safely, happily, but never really worn it. All the 1st world factory made piece of crap clothing has come in and out of my closet, sometimes barely making it one or two washes before needed to be retired.
Now that I'm once again, living in a cold country in a building without heat (or, in this case, without AFFORDABLE heat), I find myself wearing this sweater on a daily basis.
And OH MY GOSH IS IT WARM. And snuggly, and well made.
I'm finding myself reminiscing for a time when things were are hand built, handmade, and valued. Not these $5 leggings that last for 2 weeks before a seam splits or the fabric goes see-through - but real, hand woven fabric with girth and warmth and soul. I'm finding I'm wishing for a fireplace to keep me warm - something that can be fuelled by by own labour, each day, rather than bleeding at the end of each month for stuffy, soul-less warmth. I find I'm wishing for a garden, and a loom, and time to sit and knit on my porch. Time to understand the value of good, beautiful things, and time to create them.
I find I'm feeling nostalgic for a time that I haven't lived in; craving a lifestyle I've never known.
I guess for now, I've got the sweater, right?
Sunday, February 14, 2016
Ain't nobody got time for that!
You know, ever since this gem of a video:
My brain has made a pastime of interrupting me. I'll be doing some necessary, but menial task, and all of a sudden, Sweet Brown is in my head like:
Yeah. So here is a list of the top 10 things, for which I ain't got time.
10) Wearing new clothes to the dog park everyday. I take my dog to the dog park EVERY DAY. And every day, there are dogs there. (Shocker, I know!) Dogs that are well behaved, dogs that aren't, puppies, hyper dogs, jumpy dogs….. and at least once every day, I get some dirty front paws placed on either my shorts or my shirt. So….. I ain't got time to look like a freaking fashion plate at the dog park. I'm going to wear the SAME shorts and SAME shirt every day. Deal with it.
9) Have a clean, spot-free bathroom mirror. Yeah…. I own a waterpik. It is a device that looks like this:
whose purpose is to shoot pressurized water at and through your teeth and gums, to remove particles and biofilm. I LOVE MY WATERPIK. There is nothing like it in this world or the next, and if heaven doesn't have a waterpik, I don't want to be there.
Anyway, I digress. Did you hear the part about PRESSURIZED WATER? Yeah. There will always be spots on my mirror. And I don't give a flying freak.
8) Immigration paperwork. To be specific, immigration paperwork in which I have to put down every address at which I lived from the time I turned 18 until now.
Do you even know what that entails?
My theory is that if you actually finish the paperwork, you just need to submit - and the status is yours. If you're willing to jump through that many hoops, then you deserve permanent residency.
7) Lathering, rinsing, AND repeating. Yeah….. I think I pretty notoriously hate washing myself. In my defense, you would too if you had skin drier than the Atacama (see what I did there? Mentioned the driest desert in the world? That's my degree kicking in there….. 7 years of University; ain't nobody got time for that.) So those three words? Pick two. That's what you get. Usually rinsing and repeating.
6) Updating my devices. WHY. I like things the way they are. Why can't you just automatically update in my sleep??
5) Having a real, thought out meal more than 3 times per week. Since coming to manage this property, Norman and I have had at least 1 night a week that is completely ruined by someone with a NON EMERGENCY knocking on our door for our help. So much so that I have now have a sign on there that reads:
"Friendly reminder: Please do not knock on this door before 9:00 AM or after 5:00 PM unless there is an EMERGENCY. An emergency consists of:
-Fire
-Floor
-Injury
-Imminent Danger"
Yeah. I'm that lady now.
4) Folding my laundry as soon as it comes out of the dryer. Actually, me and Norman are POOR - like, potatoes and pasta poor - but I send my laundry out. Deal with it.
3) Forgetting my keys. I do this even when I have a key bowl. One of Norman's main functions in my life is a living key holder.
2) Getting gas. This one always irks me. Hence, why instead of children, Norman and I are planning on having a dog and a Tesla. Instead of babies.
1) Maintaining relationships with people who just have a passing interest in my life, but due to some former closeness, thinks they deserve to know all about me. It's just, so 5 years ago. ;-)
My brain has made a pastime of interrupting me. I'll be doing some necessary, but menial task, and all of a sudden, Sweet Brown is in my head like:
Yeah. So here is a list of the top 10 things, for which I ain't got time.
10) Wearing new clothes to the dog park everyday. I take my dog to the dog park EVERY DAY. And every day, there are dogs there. (Shocker, I know!) Dogs that are well behaved, dogs that aren't, puppies, hyper dogs, jumpy dogs….. and at least once every day, I get some dirty front paws placed on either my shorts or my shirt. So….. I ain't got time to look like a freaking fashion plate at the dog park. I'm going to wear the SAME shorts and SAME shirt every day. Deal with it.
9) Have a clean, spot-free bathroom mirror. Yeah…. I own a waterpik. It is a device that looks like this:
whose purpose is to shoot pressurized water at and through your teeth and gums, to remove particles and biofilm. I LOVE MY WATERPIK. There is nothing like it in this world or the next, and if heaven doesn't have a waterpik, I don't want to be there.
Anyway, I digress. Did you hear the part about PRESSURIZED WATER? Yeah. There will always be spots on my mirror. And I don't give a flying freak.
8) Immigration paperwork. To be specific, immigration paperwork in which I have to put down every address at which I lived from the time I turned 18 until now.
Do you even know what that entails?
My theory is that if you actually finish the paperwork, you just need to submit - and the status is yours. If you're willing to jump through that many hoops, then you deserve permanent residency.
7) Lathering, rinsing, AND repeating. Yeah….. I think I pretty notoriously hate washing myself. In my defense, you would too if you had skin drier than the Atacama (see what I did there? Mentioned the driest desert in the world? That's my degree kicking in there….. 7 years of University; ain't nobody got time for that.) So those three words? Pick two. That's what you get. Usually rinsing and repeating.
6) Updating my devices. WHY. I like things the way they are. Why can't you just automatically update in my sleep??
5) Having a real, thought out meal more than 3 times per week. Since coming to manage this property, Norman and I have had at least 1 night a week that is completely ruined by someone with a NON EMERGENCY knocking on our door for our help. So much so that I have now have a sign on there that reads:
"Friendly reminder: Please do not knock on this door before 9:00 AM or after 5:00 PM unless there is an EMERGENCY. An emergency consists of:
-Fire
-Floor
-Injury
-Imminent Danger"
Yeah. I'm that lady now.
4) Folding my laundry as soon as it comes out of the dryer. Actually, me and Norman are POOR - like, potatoes and pasta poor - but I send my laundry out. Deal with it.
3) Forgetting my keys. I do this even when I have a key bowl. One of Norman's main functions in my life is a living key holder.
2) Getting gas. This one always irks me. Hence, why instead of children, Norman and I are planning on having a dog and a Tesla. Instead of babies.
1) Maintaining relationships with people who just have a passing interest in my life, but due to some former closeness, thinks they deserve to know all about me. It's just, so 5 years ago. ;-)
Wednesday, February 10, 2016
Being a Diva Bitch Really Isn't That Easy
So! Here we are. Norman and I have embarked on the next phase of our life. We have relocated to Victoria, BC - the capitol of British Columbia! - and are currently employed as property managers.
Now, in general, I'm guessing Property Management is a varied, but fulfilling field. Due to the poor management of this complex, however, Norman and I have been thrown into the deep end. Here are just a few of the issues we have in our complex:
-Bed bugs (not in our suite - I'd be out in a hot minute!)
-Tenants with substance abuse problems
-Tenants who are so noise - sensitive, they have asked other tenants to sit when they pee so as to avoid noise
-People not paying their rent
-Legit noise complaints, ending in angry interactions
-A steady drug traffic through the property
My favourite issue, so far, has to be the tenant that screamed at us and called Norman and I Diva Bitches.
So what, pray tell, did Norm and I do to make this tenant so angry? Well! Sit down, boys and girls! Here is a story for you.
Once upon a time, in a magical land called Canada, there was a beautiful island kingdom by the name of Victoria. And while Victoria was beautiful, it was also isolated, overpriced, slow-moving, and a little too big for its britches. In Victoria there lived a benevolent King and Queen (property managers, as they're called in this kingdom), who oversaw a small kingdom by the water.
Now this King and Queen had to make sure that all the residents of their kingdom paid their rent on time - something that, while it seems simple and easy, is quite difficult! You see, some of the residents of the kingdom were unemployed, or fallen on hard times, or would rather spend their money on destructive hobbies like drinking or drugs!
One resident decided to repeatedly not pay a full rent. So, the King and Queen decided to give him a legal notice to pay his rent, or he'd have to leave. The resident became so irate, that he stormed down the King and Queen in their humble abode at 9:00 pm, and harassed them and yelled at them. He wouldn't leave, and when they tried to calm him down, he yelled that they were "Diva Bitches" over and over again. He accused them of a hate crime, because he is gay. He harassed them so much that the Queen called the police, who sorted the situation quickly.
And the dramatic, over the top resident paid his rent, and never made eye contact with the King or Queen ever again.
Yup. That is what happened. Go us.
Now, in general, I'm guessing Property Management is a varied, but fulfilling field. Due to the poor management of this complex, however, Norman and I have been thrown into the deep end. Here are just a few of the issues we have in our complex:
-Bed bugs (not in our suite - I'd be out in a hot minute!)
-Tenants with substance abuse problems
-Tenants who are so noise - sensitive, they have asked other tenants to sit when they pee so as to avoid noise
-People not paying their rent
-Legit noise complaints, ending in angry interactions
-A steady drug traffic through the property
My favourite issue, so far, has to be the tenant that screamed at us and called Norman and I Diva Bitches.
So what, pray tell, did Norm and I do to make this tenant so angry? Well! Sit down, boys and girls! Here is a story for you.
Once upon a time, in a magical land called Canada, there was a beautiful island kingdom by the name of Victoria. And while Victoria was beautiful, it was also isolated, overpriced, slow-moving, and a little too big for its britches. In Victoria there lived a benevolent King and Queen (property managers, as they're called in this kingdom), who oversaw a small kingdom by the water.
Now this King and Queen had to make sure that all the residents of their kingdom paid their rent on time - something that, while it seems simple and easy, is quite difficult! You see, some of the residents of the kingdom were unemployed, or fallen on hard times, or would rather spend their money on destructive hobbies like drinking or drugs!
One resident decided to repeatedly not pay a full rent. So, the King and Queen decided to give him a legal notice to pay his rent, or he'd have to leave. The resident became so irate, that he stormed down the King and Queen in their humble abode at 9:00 pm, and harassed them and yelled at them. He wouldn't leave, and when they tried to calm him down, he yelled that they were "Diva Bitches" over and over again. He accused them of a hate crime, because he is gay. He harassed them so much that the Queen called the police, who sorted the situation quickly.
And the dramatic, over the top resident paid his rent, and never made eye contact with the King or Queen ever again.
Yup. That is what happened. Go us.
Friday, August 14, 2015
Too Much Crazy to Deal With Yours!
One of my sisters lives in beautiful Washington DC area. She has for years - and I have visited her twice.
On the cusp of my second visit, she described me to her friends as follows: "Leah and drama have a high correlation, not implying causation."
In other words, crap goes DOWN in my life, most of which I am not causing, but which I somehow attract. Don't get me wrong - I have my dramatic moments, just like the rest of humanity. I just... somehow attract the unending supply of crazy in the world.
The last episode ended with someone I thought was a dear friend of mine, screaming "GET OFF MY PROPERTY! GET OFF MY PROPERTY!" As she tossed my belongings out her front door.
The last episode ended with someone I thought was a dear friend of mine, screaming "GET OFF MY PROPERTY! GET OFF MY PROPERTY!" As she tossed my belongings out her front door.
 |
| Disclaimer: Not a photo of the actual crazy person. |
Let's back up for a moment - what led to this moment of complete and total insanity?
SO. Due to high stress environmental factors (that are boring, so I'm not going to list them here), I was SUPER stressed at the beginning of July. My aforementioned sister was meant to come visit and we were going to go on an EPIC RV trip through the Canadian Rockies. I was super excited!
Unfortunately, the stress got so bad I called her and canceled the trip. I paid for her to reroute her flights, and all is well - she's in Argentina right now enjoying a different trip, so no worries. She's not suffering.
Now GET THIS - the day she would have arrived, we would have left to pick her up, arrived home, and found our house flooded. That's right - our house flooded the day she was meant to arrive.
I started the dishwasher, took my dog to the dog park, and when I came home, my living room and kitchen was hot, humid, and wet. Like, step on the carpet and your foot is submerged in water wet.
 |
| It pretty much looked like this. But much, much larger. |
After a few moments of genuine panic, Norman and I found a shop vac, sucked up as much water as we could, set up our fans, and called the insurance. We did well.
Fast forward a few weeks - after getting estimates for the repairs, picking the new flooring, and waiting for the repairs to begin, we again wake up, go to the dog park with Jewels, and come home to......
A flood in the office of our house. Our upstairs neighbours had had a malfunction with their washing machine, and it had affected our whole corridor - so in come the emergency repairmen, with their ripping out of the baseboards, and the peeling back of the carpet, and the drying of everything.
NEVER MIND the fact that all the furniture in the rest of the previous flood was in the office.
NEVER MIND that we had to move EVERYTHING back into the living room until the office was dried.
NEVER MIND that we now had to put all our furniture of the whole house in the bedroom now, and stay elsewhere.
But no matter - Norman and I buckled down, moved all the furniture, and received a few offers from friends of where we could stay. One was a basement in a townhouse less than 50 feet from our apartment - convenient, but we didn't want to put the owner out by being underfoot all the time.
We thought - maybe we can stay at a hotel?
Holy expensive, batman!
Finally, a nice friend of ours and her husband invited us to stay in their 4 bedroom, 4 bathroom house.
Now that sounds doable! Have a separate area to ourselves?
So we pack up our things, stake a claim on a far bedroom, and get along with our lives.
By day two, we knew we had made a mistake. Far from being removed, we were constantly around our friend. And she is a talker. And she likes to tell you how things are, and not ask what you think. So we knew we had to change the situation. And soon.
Fast forward - I drop Norman off at the bus station to head to school, and I get home. Earlier in the day, I had dropped my phone in the toilet, so no working phone. Awesome.
A friend's beloved pooch had escaped, and was running all over the highway.
I hop in my car, and she insists on coming with me. At this point, I was glad of the help, and just wanted to get on the road.
After about an hour checking everywhere I could think of, we started driving back home. I knew I wouldn't sleep knowing Kali was out there, alive or dead, but I had to reconcile myself for whatever came next.
So there I am, driving in one lane traffic during rush hour, and I get a call.
Kali is alive. She is safe. And she is home.
I was so relieved I started to cry.
Now Kali's owners are a couple who are now broken up. So the girl had her, and the boy didn't know what was happening - and he had blocked her number. So I say OF COURSE I will call him and let him know that she's okay.
At this point, my friend starts smacking me, grabbing things out of my hands, and throwing them down.
Angry, I yell that I can't drive and fight at the same time.
In all her hubris, she yells "If you ever talk to me like that again...."
And I stop the car. I ask her to get out. She won't.
So I do. I left my car blocking one lane traffic in rush hour. THAT'S HOW CRAZY THINGS GOT. That was a mistake. It was stupid. I know.
After about a minute, I see her walking away. I ask her "Are my keys in my car?"
She won't even look at me.
So I run to my car, where a lot of (understandably) angry people are waiting. One of the construction workers yells, and I start crying. Tell him that there was an emergency. Seeing how upset I was, he asks
"Are you okay to drive?"
"No, but I have to."
I get in the car, and drive away.
Now. I knew my friend was high strung. So I went STRAIGHT to a friend's house, to ask him to come with me to get my things. I knew if I were alone, things might get out of hand.
She had left me with her gate opener, so I opened the gate, and went in. Normally, they leave the door unlocked - I thought I could grab my things and leave. At this point, i was totally composed. Upset, yes, but composed.
All the doors were locked.
My computers, my dog, my clothes..... everything was inside.
So we wait.
And in drives her and her husband, and she strolls right past me and opens the door.
"Get your things and get out."
I rush past, and try to rush to the room to grab everything.
"I see what you did, bringing them here. If you EVER do that again, I will call the cops."
"I just want to get my things and leave," I answered.
Then, the true crazy emerges.
I hear her on the phone.
"Yes, there is a man and two women in my driveway and house, and I have no idea who they are."
I grab one load of things, and bring it to the car.
Suddenly, the door slams, locks, and I'm outside, with my things, my dog, everything inside.
The gate was open, and she basically throws my dog outside, shutting the door on her back.
I grab her and put her safely in the car.
Then, the door opens again and again - she had taken my things out of our suitcases, and was throwing heaps of them onto her front porch. At this point, I just had to laugh. "Don't throw the computers out! You'll have to pay for them!" I said, smiling.
I walked up the porch to grab the belongings spread out over her porch. As I approached, she kept yelling that she would charge me with trespassing. "DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!" Of course, I kept coming closer - I was going to get my things, one way or another - and that made her mad.
She just kept getting more ridiculous. I think the fact that I wasn't upset at all was escalating her.
The whole time, her husband was asking me where my things were and bringing them out to me. No sympathy, just - not ridiculous. Kudos to him.
After receiving most of my belongings, we decided to wait for the police to arrive - no need to flee the scene. 5 minutes pass.... then 8..... "3 more minutes, and then we'll go," my friend decided.
Finally, the police officer arrived. He asked what had happened. Crazy lady (as my former friend will now be called) "They are on my property and I want them gone."
The police officer turned to my friend. "We want to grab her things and get out of here. She was staying here, and they had a disagreement, and then the homeowner called you. She also threatened to shoot me if I didn't leave. I have a dash cam and it is all on video."
The police officer turned to me. "I and my fiancee are having work done on our house. Our friend and her husband very kindly invited us to stay here. We got in a disagreement in the car, so I wanted to grab my things and leave. She then locked me out and threw my things out."
He then turns back to crazy lady. "This all seems petty. Did you threaten to shoot him?" She tries to interrupt, saying "I have the right to shoot him!" And he almost yells "No, you don't."
"If I feel in danger, I do."
He answers "Is there anything about this situation that feels dangerous??"
She then yells that she can press charges for trespassing.
He shakes his head. "No, you can't."
She just gets more upset, and insists.
"Don't tell me how to do my job!" he yells.
At this point, she realizes she is defeated. The police officer asks if there is anything else in the house that belongs to me.
"My dog's leash."
She walks back in, throws it out the door, and starts screaming.
"GET OFF MY PROPERTY! GET OFF MY PROPERTY! GET OFF MY PROPERTY!"
The police officer asks us to pull off her lot, drive down the road, and pull over. He then just laughs with us about how CRAZY things can get. "There was nothing we could do or say to calm her down. We just had to leave."
Now here is my thing about this. This person was a dear friend of mine. And when she behaved this way, it is almost like my friend stopped existing - the friend I know would NEVER behave that way. It was almost..... concerning, from a psychological standpoint. I feel more disappointed and genuinely concerned than I am angry. I don't think a normal, functioning adult would act that way.
So now, here we are, staying at our friend's townhouse. But I'll tell you what - staying in a townhouse with a sane person feels much more spacious than staying at a mansion with a crazy person.
Remember that when choosing roommates. :-)
NEVER MIND the fact that all the furniture in the rest of the previous flood was in the office.
NEVER MIND that we had to move EVERYTHING back into the living room until the office was dried.
NEVER MIND that we now had to put all our furniture of the whole house in the bedroom now, and stay elsewhere.
But no matter - Norman and I buckled down, moved all the furniture, and received a few offers from friends of where we could stay. One was a basement in a townhouse less than 50 feet from our apartment - convenient, but we didn't want to put the owner out by being underfoot all the time.
We thought - maybe we can stay at a hotel?
Holy expensive, batman!
Finally, a nice friend of ours and her husband invited us to stay in their 4 bedroom, 4 bathroom house.
Now that sounds doable! Have a separate area to ourselves?
So we pack up our things, stake a claim on a far bedroom, and get along with our lives.
By day two, we knew we had made a mistake. Far from being removed, we were constantly around our friend. And she is a talker. And she likes to tell you how things are, and not ask what you think. So we knew we had to change the situation. And soon.
Fast forward - I drop Norman off at the bus station to head to school, and I get home. Earlier in the day, I had dropped my phone in the toilet, so no working phone. Awesome.
A friend's beloved pooch had escaped, and was running all over the highway.
I hop in my car, and she insists on coming with me. At this point, I was glad of the help, and just wanted to get on the road.
After about an hour checking everywhere I could think of, we started driving back home. I knew I wouldn't sleep knowing Kali was out there, alive or dead, but I had to reconcile myself for whatever came next.
So there I am, driving in one lane traffic during rush hour, and I get a call.
Kali is alive. She is safe. And she is home.
I was so relieved I started to cry.
Now Kali's owners are a couple who are now broken up. So the girl had her, and the boy didn't know what was happening - and he had blocked her number. So I say OF COURSE I will call him and let him know that she's okay.
At this point, my friend starts smacking me, grabbing things out of my hands, and throwing them down.
Angry, I yell that I can't drive and fight at the same time.
In all her hubris, she yells "If you ever talk to me like that again...."
And I stop the car. I ask her to get out. She won't.
So I do. I left my car blocking one lane traffic in rush hour. THAT'S HOW CRAZY THINGS GOT. That was a mistake. It was stupid. I know.
After about a minute, I see her walking away. I ask her "Are my keys in my car?"
She won't even look at me.
So I run to my car, where a lot of (understandably) angry people are waiting. One of the construction workers yells, and I start crying. Tell him that there was an emergency. Seeing how upset I was, he asks
"Are you okay to drive?"
"No, but I have to."
I get in the car, and drive away.
Now. I knew my friend was high strung. So I went STRAIGHT to a friend's house, to ask him to come with me to get my things. I knew if I were alone, things might get out of hand.
She had left me with her gate opener, so I opened the gate, and went in. Normally, they leave the door unlocked - I thought I could grab my things and leave. At this point, i was totally composed. Upset, yes, but composed.
All the doors were locked.
My computers, my dog, my clothes..... everything was inside.
So we wait.
And in drives her and her husband, and she strolls right past me and opens the door.
"Get your things and get out."
I rush past, and try to rush to the room to grab everything.
"I see what you did, bringing them here. If you EVER do that again, I will call the cops."
"I just want to get my things and leave," I answered.
Then, the true crazy emerges.
I hear her on the phone.
"Yes, there is a man and two women in my driveway and house, and I have no idea who they are."
I grab one load of things, and bring it to the car.
Suddenly, the door slams, locks, and I'm outside, with my things, my dog, everything inside.
The gate was open, and she basically throws my dog outside, shutting the door on her back.
I grab her and put her safely in the car.
Then, the door opens again and again - she had taken my things out of our suitcases, and was throwing heaps of them onto her front porch. At this point, I just had to laugh. "Don't throw the computers out! You'll have to pay for them!" I said, smiling.
I walked up the porch to grab the belongings spread out over her porch. As I approached, she kept yelling that she would charge me with trespassing. "DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!" Of course, I kept coming closer - I was going to get my things, one way or another - and that made her mad.
She just kept getting more ridiculous. I think the fact that I wasn't upset at all was escalating her.
The whole time, her husband was asking me where my things were and bringing them out to me. No sympathy, just - not ridiculous. Kudos to him.
After receiving most of my belongings, we decided to wait for the police to arrive - no need to flee the scene. 5 minutes pass.... then 8..... "3 more minutes, and then we'll go," my friend decided.
Finally, the police officer arrived. He asked what had happened. Crazy lady (as my former friend will now be called) "They are on my property and I want them gone."
The police officer turned to my friend. "We want to grab her things and get out of here. She was staying here, and they had a disagreement, and then the homeowner called you. She also threatened to shoot me if I didn't leave. I have a dash cam and it is all on video."
The police officer turned to me. "I and my fiancee are having work done on our house. Our friend and her husband very kindly invited us to stay here. We got in a disagreement in the car, so I wanted to grab my things and leave. She then locked me out and threw my things out."
He then turns back to crazy lady. "This all seems petty. Did you threaten to shoot him?" She tries to interrupt, saying "I have the right to shoot him!" And he almost yells "No, you don't."
"If I feel in danger, I do."
He answers "Is there anything about this situation that feels dangerous??"
She then yells that she can press charges for trespassing.
He shakes his head. "No, you can't."
She just gets more upset, and insists.
"Don't tell me how to do my job!" he yells.
At this point, she realizes she is defeated. The police officer asks if there is anything else in the house that belongs to me.
"My dog's leash."
She walks back in, throws it out the door, and starts screaming.
"GET OFF MY PROPERTY! GET OFF MY PROPERTY! GET OFF MY PROPERTY!"
The police officer asks us to pull off her lot, drive down the road, and pull over. He then just laughs with us about how CRAZY things can get. "There was nothing we could do or say to calm her down. We just had to leave."
Now here is my thing about this. This person was a dear friend of mine. And when she behaved this way, it is almost like my friend stopped existing - the friend I know would NEVER behave that way. It was almost..... concerning, from a psychological standpoint. I feel more disappointed and genuinely concerned than I am angry. I don't think a normal, functioning adult would act that way.
So now, here we are, staying at our friend's townhouse. But I'll tell you what - staying in a townhouse with a sane person feels much more spacious than staying at a mansion with a crazy person.
Remember that when choosing roommates. :-)
Saturday, August 16, 2014
The Vicious Circle
With the title of this particular blog post, it makes me think of this:
All the time. Freaking Neverending Story. I had a bishop once who looked like Falcor, the luck dragon. Needless to say, we were besties.
Anyhoooo….. I wanted to address a topic that plagues my daily life. Daily. As in, every day this happens. Rather than speak generically, I'll specifically address yesterday. Ready? Here it goes.
7:53 AM - First of three alarms goes off. City and Colour's The Girl.(Yes, I need three. Good for you if you don't.) I hit "dismiss" if I can see through the sleep in my eyes, roll back over, straddle my pillow, and go back to sleep.
8:00 AM - Second of three alarms goes off. This time I actually listen to the music - Milky Chance's Stolen Dance, right now- before unceremoniously wishing that NOT EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE WAS TOUCHSCREEN, so I could FEEL for a snooze rather than opening my tired, tired eyes to look for the freaking dismiss button.
8:03 AM - Third alarm goes off. Lady Gaga's You and I. LOVE THAT SONG. It's the only thing that makes mornings okay. That and my dog.
Roll around in bed, making a mental list of all the things I'm going to do today. It includes:
1) Run like 10 miles
2) 3 HOURS OF YOGA
3) Clean the WHOLE house
4) Organize stuff
5) Look pretty and perfect
6) Bake those muffins I've been talking about for like 3 weeks….finally…..
7) Cook real meals, instead of ALWAYS potatoes
8) Make friends
9) Be skinny and tan
8:15- 8:20 ish: Eventually, I make my way out of bed, try not to step on my dog who is on her back, sleeping, STILL, and throw on my "I can't go outside in underwear, and my dog needs to pee" outfit.
8:25 Take dog to pee.
8:30 Feed dog.
8:35 Think about eating a nutritious breakfast. Eat cinnamon toast instead.
9:00-12:00 Send a few texts, check emails, put some crappy movie on (today it's the second half of "Twilight") in the background so the sound of my refrigerator doesn't depress me. Get distracted by video of dog eating peanut butter like a human.
12:00 Decide I should probably get ready for the day.
12:05 But wait I should exercise
12:10 OOH LOOK AT THIS MAKEUP TUTORIAL ON YOUTUBE.
12:15-12:45 Do makeup tutorial. End up looking like I belong in the red light district.
12:45 Wait….. what about working out??? I look too cute to get all sweaty now. It will ruin my makeup. Oh well. I'll go before the dog park.
1:00 -4:00 Fill time with random things, like accordion playing, and playing with my dog, and stalking my neighbors……
4:00 Oh wait, I should go for a run or something now…. I'll go at 5 and then go straight to the dog park!
5:00 Running time! Wait…. where are my keys?
5:25 still looking
5:35 There they are! In the key bowl. Sill Norman, putting things away. TIme for a run! Wait, I leave for the dog park in 10 minutes….. I'll go after the dog park
5:45 DOG PARK!
7:30 Get home from dog park
8:00 maybe I should make dinner
9:00 NOM NOM NOM…. now I'm too full to run….
10:00 Just one more episode….
1:00 AM or three…..
And then I fall asleep.
And this is the vicious circle of why I never exercise.
Monday, August 11, 2014
Creamed Spinach and Prunes
I know, I know - I'm not old. I don't think I'm old.
But I am older.
And that is a hard thing to be.
Tonight, I am awake at what used to be a "normal", "fun" hour, but which I now consider to be a godforsaken, TIRED hour. And why am I awake, you might ask?
The short answer is that my fiancé is 21. And I am 28.
The long answer is….. long.
You see, today, we had a very balanced diet. Here is what we ate today:
Waffles with maple syrup and butter for breakfast.
Baguette and cheddar for lunch, with some ice water to wash it down.
A granola bar.
Some homemade tortilla chips with salsa.
Horchata
1/2 a pint of Ben and Jerry's Caramel Hat Trick
Norman ate, in addition to the things mentioned above:
A banana smoothie
Chunky Monkey Ben and Jerry's
And yet, he's in the other room, sawing logs and dreaming of disneyland rides.
And here I am, with a combination of some really unfortunate digestive issues, including, but not limited to:
Constipation
Diarrhea
Heartburn
Nausea
Yeah. This is my life. It's strange - I don't feel like I'm old, or aging, but my body certainly behaves differently. I remember a time, when I was about 20, when I ate ONLY white bread and fun dip and coke for over a week.
And went for a run every night.
And I felt FINE.
And now? It's like I'm going to have to start eating creamed spinach and prunes to feel alright.
I used to get up in the morning, not so bright eyed and bushy tailed (for which I will NOT apologize, ever- my opinion about morning person privilege is for another day), but nonetheless pain free and ready to start my day. Now my sciatic nerve aches. My hips ache. My plantar faciitis makes the first few steps all but unbearable, and occasionally, my knees just decide they don't feel like working properly.
Geez. As happy as I am to have a brain that allows me to learn language and write, and enjoy some of the finer things in life, I wish humans' bodies had evolved WITH our brains, instead of us compensating for our pitiful useless bag of bones by coming up with things like "shoes" and "medicine."
So yeah. Good night everyone. I doubt this will be the last time I am up with body pains while my infantile fiancé sleeps. And yes. I will blog about it every time. Deal with it.
But I am older.
And that is a hard thing to be.
Tonight, I am awake at what used to be a "normal", "fun" hour, but which I now consider to be a godforsaken, TIRED hour. And why am I awake, you might ask?
The short answer is that my fiancé is 21. And I am 28.
The long answer is….. long.
You see, today, we had a very balanced diet. Here is what we ate today:
Waffles with maple syrup and butter for breakfast.
Baguette and cheddar for lunch, with some ice water to wash it down.
A granola bar.
Some homemade tortilla chips with salsa.
Horchata
1/2 a pint of Ben and Jerry's Caramel Hat Trick
Norman ate, in addition to the things mentioned above:
A banana smoothie
Chunky Monkey Ben and Jerry's
And yet, he's in the other room, sawing logs and dreaming of disneyland rides.
 |
| How do I know this? He wanted to stay up with me, but I demanded he sleep. I told him to think of his favorite disneyland rides as he was falling to sleep. Star Tours, Indiana Jones, and the Matterhorn, in that order. |
And here I am, with a combination of some really unfortunate digestive issues, including, but not limited to:
Constipation
Diarrhea
Heartburn
Nausea
Yeah. This is my life. It's strange - I don't feel like I'm old, or aging, but my body certainly behaves differently. I remember a time, when I was about 20, when I ate ONLY white bread and fun dip and coke for over a week.
 |
| Guyz. I ate this stuff ALL DAY. I had it in bulk. |
And went for a run every night.
And I felt FINE.
And now? It's like I'm going to have to start eating creamed spinach and prunes to feel alright.
 |
| If you tell me this appetizes you, I'm pretty sure we can't be friends. |
I used to get up in the morning, not so bright eyed and bushy tailed (for which I will NOT apologize, ever- my opinion about morning person privilege is for another day), but nonetheless pain free and ready to start my day. Now my sciatic nerve aches. My hips ache. My plantar faciitis makes the first few steps all but unbearable, and occasionally, my knees just decide they don't feel like working properly.
Geez. As happy as I am to have a brain that allows me to learn language and write, and enjoy some of the finer things in life, I wish humans' bodies had evolved WITH our brains, instead of us compensating for our pitiful useless bag of bones by coming up with things like "shoes" and "medicine."
So yeah. Good night everyone. I doubt this will be the last time I am up with body pains while my infantile fiancé sleeps. And yes. I will blog about it every time. Deal with it.
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