Observations About the Great State of Texas

We've lived in Texas almost 4 years now.  Although it was only a few states away from our original location, it might as well have been another world away. Things are different here and that's what I'm about to share with you now...in list form no less.  Maybe some of these things are only associated with Beaumont, but in my limited experience, I just can't say for sure.

1.  Mobility scooters on the road pretending to be actual vehicles-

 Although I believe everyone deserves a way to get where they're going, the number of people who use mobility scooters on the roads here as if they were cars is alarming.  These things are not road worthy...they don't even have blinkers.  The first time we saw this we just laughed and laughed. Now four years later we just shake our heads a lot.

2.  Lawn edging wide enough to jog in-

In Beaumont, the space between the edge of the grass and the sidewalk or road can be anywhere from an inch to...well...a foot.  It's ridiculous.  And ugly.  It's not everybody, but enough that it makes me wonder.

3.  Garage areas set up as living rooms-

I'm not saying people in other towns don't enclose their garages to create extra living space.  I'm saying people in other towns don't set up their garage space like a living room with a TV and a couch and whatever else and then open the garage door and hang around in there with the door wide open.  I don't get it.  And it's stupid hot here.  Wouldn't they rather be inside?  I can't show you a picture because I was too embarrassed to be caught snapping pics of my crazy neighbors.

4. That beautiful lone star-

As soon as I moved here, I bought myself one of those big metal stars to hang somewhere on my property.  That star is everywhere.  I bought mine because I saw so many of them I felt like it was probably a law or something and I didn't want to be kicked out of Texas for not having mine. I admit this particular peculiarity doesn't bother me in the least.

5.  The obvious gun thing -

Did you ever watch "Miss Congeniality?"  Gracie Hart is reprimanded for mistakingly tackling the wrong guy in a crowd because she saw he had a holstered gun.  Ms. Morningside replied "Of course he had a gun.  This is Texas. Everybody has a gun.  My florist has a gun."

6. Abnormally huge sense of State pride-

People here are very proud of their state.  I'm sure they have their reasons.  Texas definitely has size on its side.  From Beaumont, I could travel east for 380 miles and wind up in my old town of Mobile, Alabama, clearly three full states from here.  If I travel west for 380 miles, I'm still in Texas.  I think this is where the pride comes in.  There is just a LOT of space here and plenty of room for very big egos and very big stuff.  And if you're in Beaumont, there aren't a lot of trees blocking that space so you can get some pretty big stuff in here.  And then there's the Alamo thing.  And that whole 'we were our own country' or something at one point thing.  And they definitely pledge allegiance to the state flag at all the important gatherings and at school, during which I shuffle my feet and feel ashamed because I just don't know it.

7.  And then there's this - that happened on my bike ride today- 

I just do not know.  Told ya.  Different.

Surely This Shouldn't Cost $300

I got a phone call yesterday from the hospital informing me that “your scheduled mammogram tomorrow will cost $300 since we are in negotiations with your insurance company right now.”  I cancelled the appointment.  No need to pay $300 for something I didn’t want to do anyway.  Unfortunately (or fortunately?) they called me back after lunch and said they had worked out their differences and my insurance would cover it after all.  So, this morning I went to do that thing we girls do that we never want to do but do anyway because we were told we should if we care anything at all about our loved ones.

“Hi, I’m Kelli, I’ll be doing your mammogram this morning. What is your first name?”

“Cathy”, I replied.

“And what is your date of birth?”  She smiles at me and seems way too chipper for this early in the morning.

“5/24/66”

“Okay great!”  She shuffles my two pieces of paperwork around and then turns to me and says, “Are you on your way to work this morning?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Oh?  Where do you work?” I tell her the unremarkable information and then she looks me straight in the face and says without missing a beat and without acting like she had already asked, “What is your first name?” I hesitate a little before I answer, “Cathy” again.   And then she says, “What is your date of birth?”  She is still smiling at me brightly when I repeat the already offered information and she continues shuffling those two pieces of paper back and forth.  I’m a little concerned that Kelli might not be paying really close attention to what she’s doing, but hey…whatever.  It’s early.

She positions me against the cold machine and tugs and pulls and smiles like she’s having fun and it should be fun for me too.  “You’ve done this before. I can tell,” she remarks.  I’m wondering how she can tell.  Could it be the atrocious misshapen pieces of me that give me away or is it because I know which way she wants me to turn before she turns me? I say, “Yes, several times.  I think when you get old like me they make you do it every year, so I’ve done it few times.”  She tilts her head and looks at me like my dog looks at me when he's concentrating, “Oh, I wouldn’t say old.  I’d say, OLDER.”  (WHAT EVER Kelli. Can’t you tell when a person is trying to get you to say they are NOT old? This girl is obviously hopeless).

 

 

She walks away from me to push a button and suddenly without warning says, “DON’T BREATHE ANYMORE!”  I have to tell you that I was unprepared.  I stopped breathing but the wait I had to endure before I could take my next breath was a little uncomfortable.  I’d be on my toes the next time because I could tell Kelli wasn’t nearly as sweet and light as she seemed at first.  When she came back to reposition me I was close to tears when the machine finally stopped smashing me.  She walked away and I heard the familiar, “DON’T BREATHE ANYMORE!”  This time I was ready.  Then came the sweet relief of that monstrosity of a machine letting me go.

When I was back in the dressing room getting myself together to leave, my elbow accidentally hit the nurse emergency call button on the wall beside me.  It lit up like a Christmas tree and I felt so stupid.  Nobody came right away, but as I walked out, Kelli rushed into the waiting area.  I said, “Oh, it was me! I’m sorry! My elbow hit the button and I didn’t know how to turn it off”.  Kelli seemed a little scattered as she checked frantically behind every dressing area curtain, I suppose looking for someone who had fallen and couldn’t get up.  Did I not JUST tell her it was me? And did the red light flashing over the dressing area door that I was in not give away WHICH room said emergency was happening in?  She seemed a little distressed and maybe even a tad miffed as she passed by me to walk back out the door to her exam room.  As she walked past, I put my hand up toward her and waved it off and said, “Oh Kelli, I was just trying to get you back for all that stuff you just did”.  I just laughed and laughed, but she didn’t.  Some people.  Clueless.

And Then There Were None

I'm in the process of watching my company "downsize" based on the price of oil. It's mesmerizing, fantastic and horrible, like a train wreck that you can't help but keep watching even though the smoke from the flaming disaster is burning your eyes. You just never know who's next to be chopped and it's been a long, slow, drawn-out process that I fear somebody might be enjoying. A few days goes by without a cut and we all start breathing a little easier thinking the wind is dying down and the sea is calming and then BAM! a big wave sweeps over us and someone else is lost in the storm. 

If you know me at all, you have to know that if I can't make fun of everything in my life I'm an unhappy girl. My friend, Peter, who knows this about me challenged me to blog this misery for the masses, so here are the four stages of nearly losing your job daily.

1. Shock and Denial "What? Oh no? HER? Oh no. Surely not. Oh that's awful. Oh. I can't believe it."  

2. Freak Out. "Uh oh. I might be next! She's been here a lot longer than me and they sure escorted her out and took her phone without a lot of hoopla. Dang, I don't want to start all over somewhere else. Oh dear. Oh crap. Am I next? I'm probably next."

3. Acceptance. "It's okay. I'm good with whatever is decided. I've done a good job here and if I can't be useful here I'll be useful somewhere else. It's fine. It's all just fine."

4. Rage. "Oh just COME ON and get it OVER WITH. PICK ME! PICK ME! See if I care!! I don't care! Good luck finding somebody to do all the crap I do around here. WHAT.  EVER."

Peter and I have decided that we vacillate back and forth between the last three stages which makes it awfully hard to have a normal week. Unfortunately I don't see an end to the carnage and my blood pressure is through the roof. Luckily, I don't care! I just HOPE I'm next. (Oh man, what if I'm next? Do you think I'll be next?)