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grrgoylI really wish I had enlisted the aid of ANYONE else but the Alcoholic (L) in this little mission. Her histrionics and irrational emotionalism over it all are just more than I can bear.
Things have actually been very quiet around here lately. With the exception of a 4 a.m. wake-up call Wed morning and an approximately 1-hour on-and-off episode Thurs night around 8 p.m., the dogs seem to have all but vanished. This makes me happy, not that I'm under any illusions that it will last. Not L though. It is driving her insane that she can't see the Crackwhore's balcony, despite my assurances that it remains poop-free (which it does). And she refers to Thursday's outburst as "the worst yet." ( I have a feeling if this were 200 years ago, she'd be the kind of person to start witchhunts in her free time.) I think she could use some gingko biloba, since clearly Sunday's 12 hours of hell have been forgotten. Oh, the bliss of alcohol-induced oblivion. As I calmly explained to D, the board administrator, Thursday's incident didn't bother me so much because I was awake and it was relatively brief. It's when I'm trying to sleep that my tolerance wanes considerably. Not L, though. It seems she won't be happy until the dogs have their vocal cords removed so she never has to hear another bark again as long as she lives. I'm not pussying out on the fight, I just think it has to be won in baby steps, and a complete shutdown of activity overnight simply is not going to happen.
It is for this reason that I was reluctant to follow through with our plan to go to the Animal Shelter in person to file a complaint. A day and a half of complete silence was proof enough for me that the CW was TRYING to comply, for however short a time. I thought if she received a ticket for something that happened three days ago it might give her the attitude, "What the hell. I'm damned if I do, I'm damned if I don't." Not L, though. She thought she fully deserved a ticket, despite her obvious efforts to fix the problem lately. L also took a pretty dim view of my statement that I'm not nearly as bothered by the poop as I am by the barking. Piles of turd, regardless of their size, don't wake me up at night. L seems to think poo left around long enough will bring on the Black Plague. I admit it's nasty and unsanitary, but I'm also aware that any further poop complaints from this point on will be easily traced to me, since I am the only one left with any kind of view of her balcony. And I don't particularly want my tires slashed.
L talked me back into going to the Animal Shelter just to see what they thought we should do, in light of the CW's recent attempts to make people happy. We went up to the desk to present our case to the clerk. As I tried to tell the story, I was interrupted first by L dramatically thrusting our photographic evidence in his face, then dramatically clunking her tape recorder down on the counter (with, remember, the snarky editorials about the barking). Thank GOD he said he couldn't listen to the tape, that it was for the judge's ears only, because I really, really didn't want to be present for that. Not that there wasn't more embarrassment in store. She insisted on punctuating the facts with her own whiny observations, cranking the angst up until it seemed like we were living with hellhounds in our midst. Just from hearing Tery's horror stories from work and watching "Animal Precinct" occasionally, I can't even imagine the utterly appalling, stomach-churning cases of actual animal abuse this guy has seen, and how inconsequentially mild our complaints were in comparison. Yet L kept playing it up and playing it up until I wanted to crawl into the corner with the sleeping orange kitty. He did clarify one thing for us: there is no law that dog owners have to walk their dogs, or even pay attention to them. Only provide them with food, water and shelter apparently. He said the best they could do was ticket her until it came to a summons, at which point she would have to go to court. After that if the problem persisted the dogs would be taken away. L jumped all over that part, insisting that it really would be the best thing for them and that her only concern was for the dogs, which I suspect is a sizable lie. She doesn't care about the dogs, she just wants the CW gone. I do too, but I think that the threat of removing her pets would be sufficient without having to go through with it.
We reached a compromise in the form of letting him mark in the file that we had come down in person, which means if the barking gets bad again we'll have to go back in person to sign a complaint. I was happy with this. L probably wasn't, but I just didn't feel right pursuing a more aggressive action while things are seemingly improving. I'm sure she'll rub my face in it later but hey, whatever. I have to do what I think is right. I'm the one who has to live with myself.
I don't understand how someone gets to be her age and still have such a poor grasp on relating to people. I am a hairsbreadth from being a hermit myself, I hate people with the best of them, but I am willing to try to reach an understanding everyone can live with. Which sounds funny coming from me, but believe me, compared to her, it is 100% true. She is positively terrifying in her inflexibility and intolerance. When I'm the reasonable one, we're in trouble.
In a similar vein, Tery had something happen to her at the hospital that is still bothering me. Tery loves Rufus Wainwright and was very jealous when a coworker got to see him open for Ben Folds last week. She asked her coworker's opinion, who said she really liked him and wanted to borrow Tery's CD to hear more of him. Later in the day Kay, her annoying, overbearing, and we know now utterly tactless, makeover friend, came up to Tery with a huge grin on her face and mentioned how much Laura HATED Rufus Wainwright.
Tery was gobsmacked. Why did Kay feel it necessary to tell her this, except to hurt her? It had the opposite effect; Tery loved Laura for sparing her feelings, and hated Kay for going out of her way to stomp on them. And Kay just can't understand why she never gets more than one date with men. Her problem is she's gotten to the age of 35 without having a single friend close enough to tell her when she's out of line. I would love to be the one to tell her she needs to learn when to keep her big, fat mouth shut, which again sounds funny coming from me. When I'm the tactful one, we're REALLY in trouble. She already thinks I hate her (she's right, twice as much now that she's hurt Tery) so what've I got to lose? When's the next party? *rubbing hands together gleefully*
Things have actually been very quiet around here lately. With the exception of a 4 a.m. wake-up call Wed morning and an approximately 1-hour on-and-off episode Thurs night around 8 p.m., the dogs seem to have all but vanished. This makes me happy, not that I'm under any illusions that it will last. Not L though. It is driving her insane that she can't see the Crackwhore's balcony, despite my assurances that it remains poop-free (which it does). And she refers to Thursday's outburst as "the worst yet." ( I have a feeling if this were 200 years ago, she'd be the kind of person to start witchhunts in her free time.) I think she could use some gingko biloba, since clearly Sunday's 12 hours of hell have been forgotten. Oh, the bliss of alcohol-induced oblivion. As I calmly explained to D, the board administrator, Thursday's incident didn't bother me so much because I was awake and it was relatively brief. It's when I'm trying to sleep that my tolerance wanes considerably. Not L, though. It seems she won't be happy until the dogs have their vocal cords removed so she never has to hear another bark again as long as she lives. I'm not pussying out on the fight, I just think it has to be won in baby steps, and a complete shutdown of activity overnight simply is not going to happen.
It is for this reason that I was reluctant to follow through with our plan to go to the Animal Shelter in person to file a complaint. A day and a half of complete silence was proof enough for me that the CW was TRYING to comply, for however short a time. I thought if she received a ticket for something that happened three days ago it might give her the attitude, "What the hell. I'm damned if I do, I'm damned if I don't." Not L, though. She thought she fully deserved a ticket, despite her obvious efforts to fix the problem lately. L also took a pretty dim view of my statement that I'm not nearly as bothered by the poop as I am by the barking. Piles of turd, regardless of their size, don't wake me up at night. L seems to think poo left around long enough will bring on the Black Plague. I admit it's nasty and unsanitary, but I'm also aware that any further poop complaints from this point on will be easily traced to me, since I am the only one left with any kind of view of her balcony. And I don't particularly want my tires slashed.
L talked me back into going to the Animal Shelter just to see what they thought we should do, in light of the CW's recent attempts to make people happy. We went up to the desk to present our case to the clerk. As I tried to tell the story, I was interrupted first by L dramatically thrusting our photographic evidence in his face, then dramatically clunking her tape recorder down on the counter (with, remember, the snarky editorials about the barking). Thank GOD he said he couldn't listen to the tape, that it was for the judge's ears only, because I really, really didn't want to be present for that. Not that there wasn't more embarrassment in store. She insisted on punctuating the facts with her own whiny observations, cranking the angst up until it seemed like we were living with hellhounds in our midst. Just from hearing Tery's horror stories from work and watching "Animal Precinct" occasionally, I can't even imagine the utterly appalling, stomach-churning cases of actual animal abuse this guy has seen, and how inconsequentially mild our complaints were in comparison. Yet L kept playing it up and playing it up until I wanted to crawl into the corner with the sleeping orange kitty. He did clarify one thing for us: there is no law that dog owners have to walk their dogs, or even pay attention to them. Only provide them with food, water and shelter apparently. He said the best they could do was ticket her until it came to a summons, at which point she would have to go to court. After that if the problem persisted the dogs would be taken away. L jumped all over that part, insisting that it really would be the best thing for them and that her only concern was for the dogs, which I suspect is a sizable lie. She doesn't care about the dogs, she just wants the CW gone. I do too, but I think that the threat of removing her pets would be sufficient without having to go through with it.
We reached a compromise in the form of letting him mark in the file that we had come down in person, which means if the barking gets bad again we'll have to go back in person to sign a complaint. I was happy with this. L probably wasn't, but I just didn't feel right pursuing a more aggressive action while things are seemingly improving. I'm sure she'll rub my face in it later but hey, whatever. I have to do what I think is right. I'm the one who has to live with myself.
I don't understand how someone gets to be her age and still have such a poor grasp on relating to people. I am a hairsbreadth from being a hermit myself, I hate people with the best of them, but I am willing to try to reach an understanding everyone can live with. Which sounds funny coming from me, but believe me, compared to her, it is 100% true. She is positively terrifying in her inflexibility and intolerance. When I'm the reasonable one, we're in trouble.
In a similar vein, Tery had something happen to her at the hospital that is still bothering me. Tery loves Rufus Wainwright and was very jealous when a coworker got to see him open for Ben Folds last week. She asked her coworker's opinion, who said she really liked him and wanted to borrow Tery's CD to hear more of him. Later in the day Kay, her annoying, overbearing, and we know now utterly tactless, makeover friend, came up to Tery with a huge grin on her face and mentioned how much Laura HATED Rufus Wainwright.
Tery was gobsmacked. Why did Kay feel it necessary to tell her this, except to hurt her? It had the opposite effect; Tery loved Laura for sparing her feelings, and hated Kay for going out of her way to stomp on them. And Kay just can't understand why she never gets more than one date with men. Her problem is she's gotten to the age of 35 without having a single friend close enough to tell her when she's out of line. I would love to be the one to tell her she needs to learn when to keep her big, fat mouth shut, which again sounds funny coming from me. When I'm the tactful one, we're REALLY in trouble. She already thinks I hate her (she's right, twice as much now that she's hurt Tery) so what've I got to lose? When's the next party? *rubbing hands together gleefully*