It's Probably Lupus

So I bought a house.

It's not a big house or a tiny house, it's just a house. This seemed like the next logical step following closely after graduating college (basically twice) and getting a real job (hopefully only once). I'm now slowly discovering the little nuances and peculiar things associated with owning said house.

This is a story about one of those things: The Homeowners' Association Meeting.

I realized that I've only been subjected to the kind of thing that goes on at an HOA (as the cool kids refer to it) a few times in my life: Pretty much all of middle school, one incredibly fun group therapy session (to be revealed at a later time), and the HOA meeting.

Apparently I'm incorrectly doing two things: (1) I do not spend most of my life worrying about my HOA president and (2) I do not spend the remaining time of my life worrying about why my neighbors lives are substantially better than mine (regardless of what reality might suggest). 

After being lured to the meeting under false pretenses, the fun began promptly at 6:00pm. 

The meeting started with our president immediately berating certain people in the room and validating her position by saying that "she was the president, with a gavel, and could make any assessment she wanted to." Side note: for futher information on "making assessments" please visit here.

Now, keeping in mind that I'm a big fan of watching train wrecks unfold in front of my eyes, please appreciate this laundry list of things that happened at the meeting:

• The president decided it was necessary to talk for 35 minutes on how she wasn't having an inappropriate relationship with our property manager and what life would be like if she had been. However, she made it abundantly clear how her life would be so much easier if she had. She wasn't good at proving any of her points, by the way.
• A lady tried to hit the president.
• Our president was either blatantly or obliviously racist for at least half the meeting.
• A pastor stood up and told the president, with all due respect, that she was the worst thing that had ever happened to our community and that he wasn't sure if we could ever bounce back from it.
• Our property manager decided to line out with great detail how exactly they could execute that inappropriate relationship.

So, suffice it to say, nothing was really accomplished. I did learn one thing, though: If I ever accept a voluntary board presidency, I can do whatever I want as long as I have a gavel and a property manager.