I just can’t even. Kiss & Ride is NOT hard.

Front lady is wasting like THREE spaces by not pulling forward. WHY?!?! I eventually pulled in front of her (directly behind that car to the very left that you can barely see). If you’re going to be stupid and waste that much space, you deserve to have someone pull in front of you. (Sidenote: she did the same damn thing the next day and I didn’t waste ANY time parking in front of her immediately upon arriving.)

I can’t imagine any normal person looking at that after doing it and saying “Yeah, looks great!”

I had heard good things from friends about a local jeweler so checked them out to resize my wedding ring after losing 135#.

It is a tension mount ring which meant it wasn’t a typical (simple) resize job, but after talking with the owner twice I was confident in his proposed solution of (basically) adding gold layers to the inside of the band to make it smaller while leaving the ring looking exactly as it started. This was critical as I didn’t want gold balls or bars soldered on. He told me he specializes in this type of fix and he’s the only one that does it in his shop. Great.

Strike one? They told me it would be done in 10 days, so when I hadn’t heard from them in 14, I called and they told me it was due “that day.” So apparently when they told me 10 days, they actually meant 10 BUSINESS days which is unprofessional at best. You should tell me the total number of days; the number of days you’re closed isn’t my concern and I shouldn’t have to do math.

Strike two? I called on Day 21 (yes, calendar day 21) to check on it and was told oh, it was done Saturday but at the end of the day [and they’re closed Sunday and Monday] so no one called yet. So, it was past due and no one bothered to call? Unprofessional.

Strike three? When I went in to pick it up, it was NOT what I was promised AT ALL—plus it was still too big!! They just stuck a tiny bar of gold on the wide band and it looked ridiculous!

And this is considered professional work from an award-winning designer?! And in talking with the jeweler on-duty, I found out that apparently the owner didn’t even work on it (so much for him being the only one to do that type of work in his shop)…?! The on-duty guy actually seemed offended when I suggested that the owner said he was the only one able to do the work.

So, needless to say they’re redoing it…but I’m not holding my breath. I’m envisioning very bad things and am trying to stay calm.

Edited Wednesday to add:

And then the more I thought about it that day and overnight, the more upset I got—I did NOT want anyone working on my ring until we were all on the same page. So I called and thankfully the lady that answered was the one who was there when I originally talked to the owner and turned over the ring so she at least knew who I was. She said the owner was out of town the rest of this week but she will email him and see what she can get figured out. I had her pull the ring so nothing will be done until I talk to him. I’m feeling SLIGHTLY better now, but my fingers are still crossed.

A Kiss & Ride Special Flower

Yes, this woman parks RIGHT HERE every day in the Kiss & Ride without pulling forward and it makes me insane. Apparently her special little flower couldn’t find her if she pulled forward three car lengths?! A friend said she apparently does this ALL the time and everyone is annoyed with her. People like this is why I say I hate people. 

  

DC dinner with friends!

Friends from South Carolina came to DC for the weekend and we grabbed dinner with a bunch of other friends at a pizza place.

Of course, the kids were watching TV. (Guess how old the boy is. Just guess. Nope—he’s 6.5 and in first grade! I know, right? I told you we grow them big. 🙂 )

Owen’s cool crayon sculpture!

As a sidenote. We had a perfect example of why I say I hate people. Parking in downtown DC is always a nightmare, but we were thrilled to realize there was a parking garage right next door to the restaurant. Except some asshat parked next to us in a NON-PARKING spot which necessitated a 23-point turn to exit our space. ‪(Parking is tight in the best of cases, so with him there it was ridiculous.)

I’m about to get passive aggressive.

I’m about ready to leave a passive aggressive note in our neighbors mailbox… They’ve left this pool out for garbage pick up for a month now. After it wasn’t picked up the first week, you’d think they’d realize it wasn’t ever going to be picked up. It’s really getting annoying. And it’s unsightly.

20131210-223524.jpg

Get off my lawn!

F the unknown neighborhood kids who rang the doorbell TWICE (because god forbid I didn’t get there in 10 seconds) and woke Katie up. And what did the three of them want?

Girl 1: Looking around and apparently off into space.
Girl 2: gigglegigglegiggle
Girl 3: “We’re offering dog-walking, do you have a dog?”

Sorry kids, if you want to offer a business like that at your young ages, you’d better have more to offer than that. No introduction, no names, no where they live, no paper with information… I almost asked “Do your parents know you’re out here doing this, and can I have their number to talk to them?”

Seriously. Parents let their kids out to do stuff like this?

I’m not so much of a curmudgeon that I mean they need to have a complete business plan or anything—and I’m all for letting kids experiment and do stuff on their own—but if you really want me to let you take care of one of my pets and you are serious about the venture, you had better damn well at least give me some more information. ESPECIALLY if I have no idea who you are.

GET OFF MY LAWN!

:p

What’s the point?

I get that you’re a small business (like two-person small) but if you never check your email, DON’T PUT IT ON YOUR BUSINESS CARD. And if it IS on your business card, when I specifically TELL YOU I will be emailing you asking for your address to set up auto payment, don’t let me assume that’s fine.

I literally told the lawn guy as such today AND told him he was damn lucky I had cash because I never have cash.

All TiVo reps are not created equal.

We have a TiVo stuck on a startup loop. Been there done that six months ago, got the replacement.

Now, I’m sure they get a lot of inept people calling, but seriously, you can see we’ve been customers since 2001 so maybe we might have a F’ing clue about what we’re doing?

But this jerk (hi Bob!) was trying to blame it on:

  1. Being plugged into a UPS (saying those are really just to give you time to back up your 100 page thesis if the power goes out). So, we should “let TiVo take the brunt of the restart” and forget trying to save an $800 investment if there’s a lightning strike…
  2. Bad wiring in our house (asking us when the house was built and claiming “who knows what those contractors do”). At one point he said “I have a $100,000 sound system but I plugged a $1000 receiver in and it blew up. So you just never know.”
  3. Using an external expander (asking us if we read the hard drive manual and/or contacted them regarding hooking it up because they can be wonky). Um, no, we plugged it in and followed the Tivo’s on-screen instructions.
  4. Not plugging in the expander in the right order.
  5. Having anything else plugged into the UPS along with the TiVo (we don’t but it shouldn’t matter).
  6. Having the TV and TiVo plugged into the same outlet (he was talking to us about things like grounding and circuits and…SERIOUSLY?
  7. Claiming we never did a guided startup (then how the hell were we recording programs?).

Basically, it was something we’re obviously doing since this is the second one that’s died. Then he tells us that after a third replacement they won’t replace it again. Huh?! We said we bought the warranty. Nope, three and you’re done.

The whole conversation was just completely ludicrous. The things I’ve mentioned are the BASICS of what he touched on, and everything just sounded utterly condescending. I SO wish we had been recording it because we were just so gobsmacked. Tom and I just kept looking at each other and mouthing “Is he serious?”

Needless to say we asked for a manager and he didn’t seem very with it, either—he was just kinda like “Hey, soooo, where are we at? Let me look at your info…” instead of jumping in feet first and taking control. But to his credit he processed the exchange as if we were still within the first 90 days so there’s zero cost to us AND we still have the rest of our original warranty left. He said he had no idea what the other guy was talking about limiting exchanges to three.

So, if you call TiVo support and happen to get Bob who sounds quite a bit dooshy and questions the build construction of your house while diagnosing a dead TiVo, hang up and try again. Or record it for all to enjoy.

What is with people?

So we want a new deck. Tom doesn’t have the time (or help) to do it, so I asked around for some recommendations and made some calls.

Guy #1 comes over the next day. He’s nice enough, takes measurements, then says he’ll email the estimate within two days.

Guy #2 comes over the next day. He’s nice enough, takes measurements, then says he’ll call with an estimate. Two hours later I have the estimate.

Day 4 and we haven’t gotten the first estimate yet. We call. Oh, he’ll have it for us by Saturday afternoon at the very latest.

Day 6, still no estimate. He doesn’t return our calls.

In the meantime, Guy #2 has called twice to check in so he can get us on the schedule if he needs to.

Day 7, the estimate we’ve been waiting A WEEK for? That was promised within two days, then another two days? On Day 7 we get this:

Sorry, just been too busy to get to that estimate, I’d like to refer you to *** he does nothing but decks his numbers ***-****

Jackass.

The time to tell me you’re too busy (or just didnt want to do the job) is when I first contacted you or even when you showed up to give the estimate—not a week later.

So even though I wanted nothing to do with anyone he recommended, we had to call because we need at least two estimates.

GRRR.

Why can’t anything ever be easy?

I recently listed a baby item on LejeuneYardSales—a First Years Kickin’ Coaster. I got an email from a lady and through a loooong and extensive series of texts, was also going to sell her our swing and some baby clothes (which I just hadn’t gotten around to listing yet). It was about $250 worth…but let me tell you the whole story.

Since the clothes hadn’t been listed, they were not organized or sorted in any sense of the word. There were some in the closet, some in drawers, some on the floor, and some in the garage. I spent a good hour or more today getting it all sorted and counted. Because she had said she would take them all (because I said I would cut her a bit of a deal if she just took everything instead of cherrypicking), I kept texting her as I found more (just two big batches, really) so she wouldn’t know how much cash was required. I even sent her a picture of my scratch sheet showing how many onesies, swaddles, 2pc outfits, blankets, 3pc outfits, pants, shorts, etc., and then sent the sheet showing the breakdown of prices (like 72pcs @ $2 = $144 and 8pcs @ $4 = $32 for a total of $176) and then showing my total price of $150. And I texted a picture of the pile of clothes. So with the other two things she wanted, it was $225. And she was fine with it all. And wanted that total so her sister would have enough cash. And she kept texting me that she wasn’t sure when her sister would be there. Fine.

So it’s getting later and later and just as we’re making dinner and trying to feed the kids at 5:30, a car pulls in. Of course. But I think “This should be easy. We load her car, she gives me the cash, 10 minutes tops.”

Ha.

HAHA.

HAHAHAHAHAHA.

👿

So, first thing…this deal is all sorts of convoluted. The girl who initially emailed me is about 3-4 hours away, but the stuff is for her brother…but it’s a sister (who lives here) doing the picking up. Ay yi yi.

She has a snotty nose kid running around—ugh—that Owen was trying unsuccessfully to engage because he was a little young (poor Owen—he was trying so hard!). But what can you do? This should be quick. She wants to look through the clothes. Okay, that’s fine, I get that—to see that I didn’t misrepresent the quality. I say I’ve also thrown in a bunch of bibs, socks, wash cloths, and some lightly stained onesies. So she picks through one of the five bags and I can see her start thinking something along the lines of “this is not what I expected”…and I get a bad feeling but I don’t say anything and just let her be.

Then she asks about the chair—the Kicking Coaster—which is basically a moving base that the kid lays in and kicks at the stationary piece and it slides along a track and lights up and plays music. I tell her that actually—BONUS!—it’s not missing a piece like I had thought, and it even works better than I thought (both of which I mentioned in the listing). She’s like “Is this it? What does it do?” I explain it. She says she doesn’t want it because it doesn’t do anything. Um, your SISTER is the one who wanted it—you’re just picking it up. But I say okay, whatever.

She says she wants the swing can she see it. Of course. So I haul it over and she looks at it for like three seconds and says okay. Doesn’t ask for it to be plugged in or anything. And at this point, I don’t offer. So we get that in her back seat and go back to the porch with the clothes. She says “So, $150?” I say yes, for the clothes. No, she says, it’s $150 total, for everything. Oh no, I say, it’s $150 for the clothes alone, $225 total for everything. At which point she tells me there must be some misunderstanding because there’s no way her sister would have agreed to that much. I say she did, I texted her everything, with a clothes price and total price and she agreed. She was ADAMANT that I was wrong and her sister must not have understood. I tell her she can text her or whatever. She asks if she can go through the bags and just pick some pieces. I say no, not really, because I’ve already gone over this with your sister and she agreed to take everything if I gave her a good deal. She was still adamant I was wrong…so a call was placed to the sister.

And oh yes—SURPRISE!—the sister wanted EVERYTHING. :rolleyes: But the idiot girl who was picking it up didn’t bring enough cash (probably because she didn’t understand her sister’s texts or just flat out couldn’t believe it)—and then tells her sister it’s a lot of clothes and the mom-to-be probably would be too picky and not want all of them and besides she didn’t bring enough money. And then I get to hear the starting details of the money issues of this family. She was supposed to take the money from her sister’s bank account but didn’t get there so used her own money (which is why I’m guessing it wasn’t the full amount). Then after some back and forth, she hands the phone to me.

😐

Then I get to hear that she was paying out of her own money but her brother was paying her back but not until the end of the month so the $225 (or $150 for clothes) was a bit much. Could I do $100? UM, HELL NO. I said no, we agreed on $150 and that’s a reduction of $25 plus I got everything ready for you on short notice (remember, none of this was listed) and you said you’d even give me $25 for my trouble so really you are getting it for $125. Well, she asks, can she just pick out a few things? No, not tonight since it’s so late (by now it’s like almost 6pm!), but if she’d like to come back again this week, sure. But the prices will be a bit higher since you’re taking up my time and only picking a few pieces. I wanted to add AND THIS IS NOT A F***ING STORE.

So I hand her back to her sister and then they converse in Spanish—which, man I wish I knew Spanish, because up until then the entire conversation was in English so you know it was something they didn’t want me to hear. So the girl tells me she will just take the swing…do I have change? Nope. “Not even your husband?” Nope, sorry, we don’t carry cash. Which we might have had cash but at that point I was done with her. So she’s counting and counting and then says “How much for the swing and chair?” $75. Well she doesn’t have that change, either, so it’s off to the nearest gas station (5 miles either way) and she’ll be back. She unloads the swing and takes off. I haul everything in and Tom is like “WTF? Why didn’t she take anything?” I tell him the story and we make bets if we see her again. About 30 minutes later she pulls in and hands me $75. I say “Oh, so you want the chair, too?” No, she says, just the swing. I should have just taken it, but I am honest, so I said it was just $50. So I get $50, she tells me she’s done doing deals for her sister and she has told her sister that if she wants to drive here she can do the deal herself.

Good riddance.

OMG STFU!

The most annoying guy in the world was sitting directly behind us on the ATL > FLL leg of our flight today. He did not shut up from the moment he sat down to the moment we deplaned. I felt so bad for the poor lady sitting next to him…

He seriously had diarrhea of the mouth and jumped from one topic to the next—sometimes with segues, sometimes without. And it was all bizarro. Had I had an Internet connection, I would seriously have live tweeted the range of topics because it was unbelievable. I did briefly think about typing them anyway…but he was so annoying to listen to that I couldn’t wait to put my headphones on to try and drown him out.

Some of the topics included:

  1. His Italian family and how they liked to cook.
  2. How his dad once worked for the NSA and made $700,000 a year.
  3. How a friend invited him over to hang out once and wanted him to do marijuana so he’s not friends with him anymore.
  4. How he was a wrestler in high school.
  5. How his friend who was accepted into Harvard Medical showed him a study about runners and how /something or other/ was wrong with their feet.
  6. The difference between anaerobic and aerobic exercise and which is better to build muscle mass.
  7. How he went fishing in this lake one time and there were red-spotted tilapia and black-spotted tilapia and yellow-spotted tilapia and green- spotted tilapia and he and his buddies caught a bunch but no one wanted to cook any so they threw them all away. And there was an alligator in that lake, too.
  8. AND ON AND ON AND ON AND ON. For two hours straight.

It. Was. Mind-numbing.

You thought that was a good idea?

While we were at Home Depot last week, we answered some questions about our water for a chance to win a gift certificate. Yeah, I knew they were likely going to call to get us to buy some sort of water service, but whatever, no biggie.

So they call to tell us HEY—YOU WON! Cool, the girl had said a $250 GC. So he goes on…”You win a free home water test and a $10 GC!” Oh, thanks. BIG WHOOP. We don’t care about the water test and a $10 GC isn’t really worth it to go through the hassle. But I say yes, because I am actually intrigued as to what’s in our water. We schedule for 8-9 on Friday, but say it really has to be at 8 before we start the kids bedtime routine and we go to bed. The guy says he’ll make that note. Friday comes and we have to reschedule because the guy who does the tests had been in a minor car accident. We reschedule for Monday at the same time, reiterating it really needs to be near 8. Fine.

Fast forward to tonight, Skyping with the grandparents, talking on the phone to other grandparents, putting Katie to bed, putting Owen to bed late at 8:45…when Tom says “Why is there someone in front of our house?” Oh yeah, the water guy—we had totally forgotten—but it was 8:50 and we were on our way to bed. So we turned off the lights and watched from the balcony in the dark. And after five minutes of watching (so, 8:55), he walked up our lawn and I was thinking he’d just leave a card or something. But NO. He rings the doorbell, which is VERY LOUD AND VERY LONG.

Tom goes down there and the guy says “Hi! I saw you turn off your lights so I figured it wasn’t a good time…” SO SINCE YOU FIGURED IT WASN’T A GOOD TIME YOU THOUGHT RINGING THE BELL WOULD BE A BETTER IDEA? 👿 Long story short, he will have them call to reschedule…at which point I will say thanks but no thanks, mail me my gift certificate (which I’m sure they won’t do).

And this is why I usually never give my number for anything…and why I will go back to NOT doing so again.

The one night I don’t turn my phone off…

So last night I didn’t mute my phone like I’ve done pretty much every night ever…figuring I really don’t need to because I have DND (Do Not Disturb) on, which silences incoming phone calls unless someone A) is in your favorites or B) calls three times.

So what happens? Some unknown asshole texts me twice at 12:45am asking “who is this?” and then—since I obviously didn’t answer—calls me twice at 1-EFFING-am. Seriously? Who does that? And at 1am? And DND let it through because apparently 2 texts + 2 phone calls = 3 phone calls…??

I’m not mad at DND (though I am surprised) but I am so pissed I was woken up by some inconsiderate douchebag. I was tempted to call them back at 6a and hopefully wake them up. So after having just finally fallen asleep around 12:30, I was wide awake again. 👿

Oh, and I have ZERO idea who it is. It’s a North Carolina cell number I’ve never called or texted. And though their number was blocked when they called…it came through on the texts, so Tom called at 7:30 and got some chick’s voicemail, saying something to the effect of “If you’re Tim or someone I don’t know, forget about me calling back.” So obviously she’s having issues with a guy named Tim. And I’m sure she thought I was involved.

So since Tom refused to keep calling back, this is the texting conversation we had:

There should be something more painful you can do to stupid people like this.

This is why I shop at Amazon.

Ugh, I hate stupid people. I checked a hair product website and it said the JCP salon carried the line so I called to ask. She had no idea what I was talking about. I explained the website said they carried that line and did they have the specific product. She says “Well we don’t carry the whole line…” to which I said “Which is why I’m calling to check.” To which she still seemed utterly clueless and pretty much said “I have no idea.”

THIS IS WHY I SHOP AT AMAZON.

Our last ever garage sale!

Today we officially had our last ever garage sale. Seriously.

The neighborhood we live in has a “community garage sale” every year. We figured it out the second year we were here, and our neighbor let us know which weekend it was, so we could be prepared for the third year—which worked out perfectly date-wise since we are moving in a month.

Now, from past experience, I hate garage sales. Yeah, I like the money, but they’re a lot of work and I hate haggling. Our stuff isn’t CRAP (like tchotchkes from the 70s or broken stuff)—a lot of the stuff was new (still in boxes or plastic), next to new, or in really good condition. So I priced it fairly—with some of the things marked a bit higher that I would be willing to haggle on. But long story short, we hadn’t had a garage sale in almost five years, so I was kinda ready…or at least had a positive attitude.

So we busted ass and cleaned out a ton of stuff—finally making the decision to just GET RID OF STUFF (some of which has been making the move with us since we got married). I had even posted on Craigslist that our community was having a garage sale, and listed what would be at ours. We had an entire driveway full by the time all was said and done, and we fully expected to make about $500-600 (thinking about past garage sales and how much stuff we had and what we made at those).

Ha.

HA HA.

>:XX

First of all, the “sale” was technically Friday and Saturday—which we didn’t realize until Thursday night when talking to our neighbor again. A garage sale on Friday? REALLY? :??: I had never experienced that in my entire life of having garage sales…so needless to say we totally weren’t ready. :down: But we figured that Saturday would be the big day anyway so weren’t really worried about it.

Second, the community association was supposed to advertise the sale with signs out front a week prior—except that the day before, there were no signs (they finally went up late Thursday night). :down:

Third, I saw NO listing for the garage sale on Craigslist—so I put one on there advertising OUR moving sale. I mean, in this day and age, you post on Craigslist, and it’s free and easy, so there’s NO reason to NOT advertise there. Stupid community association. :down: I also put up my OWN garage sale sign.

So Saturday morning rolls around and we’re up at 6 getting everything set up in the driveway (well, we were up at 4:30 but didn’t start working until 6). I had such visions of it being a gangbuster sale that I was bringing out anything that I thought might sell. The more stuff we got rid of, the better, right? And more money, right?

Well, in our Craigslist moving sale post, I said that although the community sale technically started at 8, we’d be out getting set up at 7, so early birds were welcome at 7:30. Well, someone showed up at 7:15 which was fine, but they didn’t take anything. Okay, no biggie, it was still early. But then no one else came until like 7:45. Really? Where were all the people beating down our doors at 6am or lining up on the street…or doing drive-bys the night before like we had in North Carolina?

Then people just started driving by. One car after another. Huh? We had about eight cars slow down and look—but not stop. Now, I fully realize that some might be looking for one particular item that could be seen from the road…but EVERYONE?? REALLY?? What are they expecting to find?

At the end of two hours, we had a whopping FOUR customers, two of which were neighbors…and we had made $68 ($60 of which was a fish tank). And had maybe 15 drive-bys.

BIG >:XX DEAL.

Then we’d get one person. Fifteen minutes later another. Then a drive-by. At the busiest time, I think we had three people there. Ugh. And of course 95% of them wanted to haggle. Now, I can handle haggling on stuff that’s $5 or $10, but seriously, if I’ve marked it $1, it’s $1. Don’t ask if I’ll take 50¢. And then pick out nickels and pennies when I agree. Seriously. (One lady had 49¢ and Tom just stood there with his hand out, waiting. I mean really, people.) Alternatively, if I have something marked $25, don’t offer me $10. I kept reminding myself that the point was to get rid of stuff, but honestly I would rather donate things for free than take $5 for a $20 item. My blood pressure certainly spiked through the roof at least a handful of times due to hagglers.

So come 4pm we started cleaning up—and it really didn’t even look like we sold anything. Every table was still out and full (when normally about two hours in, we’re consolidating stuff and getting rid of tables). The free thing we had sitting out didn’t even get taken!

So, in the end, we made about $300 for about 18-20 hours of work (prep, sale, clean up) which just sooooo doesn’t seem worth it. I mean, it’s better than working that long for nothing…but had we sold another $200 worth I’d be more amenable to having another garage sale sometime during my lifetime. To put it in better perspective how much work it was and how few people we had and how little stuff we actually sold…almost TWO-THIRDS (!!!) of our take came from just three big ticket items (a $100 table saw that Tom sold to a co-worker before the sale even started, a $60 fish tank we sold at 8am to a neighbor, and $30 for a new-in-box Lego set [that was actually worth $90, but I digress]).

The whole thing was just bad and frustrating—I have never experienced such a lackluster garage sale EVER. I don’t know whether it was due to the lack of advertising, people just not being into garage sales, or what… but what it did was certify that I will never again have a garage sale and I will just donate stuff.

Speaking of which—the Vietnam Veterans of America will be here Tuesday to pick up three bags of clothes and shoes, and about six huge boxes of stuff. :up:

I hate lazy, stupid people.

So I was just at Target and pulling in, a woman coming towards me stopped and put her blinker on. I notice the empty spot she was eyeing, and motioned her in (I needed a spot near the corral so I could snag a cart to put the boy in—but I wouldn’t have taken the spot anyway. But that’s neither here nor there).

So I go to a space about 10 slots down, go grab a cart, unload the boy, get the cart and his diaper bag situated, and start towards the store. The woman, who so desperately wanted that space, was STILL pulling in. Apparently, there were a bunch of carts in that spot, and she took the time to stop pulling in, move them ALL into the roadway, then pull her car in—AND LEFT ALL THE CARTS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE >:XX >:XX LANE.

So I get in the store and am printing out a bridal registry, when she comes in and stops at customer service—of course jumping ahead of others waiting to tell the clerk that someone needs to go out and get some carts that are in the middle of the road.

What a >:XX asshat.

It’s 65 out today. And sunny. And gorgeous. And she was maybe 35 and looked to be in good health. Yet she needed that closer spot and then felt the need to be annoying and push all the carts into the middle of the lane so that others would be inconvenienced, and then cut in line no less to tell someone to go take care of it.

I hate people like her.

I HATE STUPID DRIVERS!

I really hate it when I get pissed off on the way in to work—it’s just not the best way to start the day.

This morning, some idiot pulled out (basically) in front of me. Since I was on a 55mph road, he really should have waited, but god forbid someone wait for a proper break in traffic. So, I pretty much had to slow from 55 to 25 in three seconds. Then, about 1/4 mile up the road, he slams on his brakes—which means I have to slam on my brakes, engaging the ABS and sending all the stuff in my car flying to the floor. Asshat wasn’t paying attention and missed some activity on the side of the road that he had to avoid at the last second.

Oh, and did I mention this idiot was on the phone? GRRRRRRR. >:XX I don’t mind people talking and driving if they can handle it, but some people obviously can’t.

Stupid drivers make me want to SCREAM!

I know there are always stupid drivers around doing insanely stupid or irritating thigns, but tonight, there just seemed to be an overabundance during our short trip to town. Here are the offenders, in order.

  1. We were on our way to town when we hit a traffic backup. On this road, pretty much the only thing it can be is an accident. Well, it was an accident, but boy was it AN ACCIDENT. Before we even got to scene, we could see the telephone pole at about a 45 degree angle! We knew then it was pretty serious. Still, imagine the surprise at seeing a car FLIPPED UPSIDE DOWN in front of the pole. We cannot even begin to fathom how that happened. This road is 45mph, with most people doing 55mph or so. But to flip a car? And we only saw one car, so it wasn’t a two-car accident (which would seem the more likely action to cause a full flip). So, stupid driver #1.
  2. So a little farther up the road, a car screams out and cuts across two lanes, fully cutting two cars off and causing them to slam on their brakes. Then said car speeds way up (maybe 65mph) and then slows way down. I don’t get people.
  3. Now we’re waiting at a stoplight and we’re the first in line. We’re just watching the traffic pass in front of us when this idiot—coming towards us in the right turn lane—speeds up to swerve around a car (who was in the correct lane) to cut back into traffic. Had our nose been out any farther, we probably would have gotten clipped by this idiot.
  4. Then we end up behind an S-10 [small truck] with five—count ’em, FIVE!—small children in it (two in the front seat and three on the back seat)—all of whom should have been in car seats! We also thought we saw the driver on the phone, but we can’t be 100% sure about that.
  5. Later, heading home, and it’s now dark. We’re in the right-turn-only lane and this guy exiting the gas station has his nose poked WAY out into traffic (onbviously blocking traffic) so someone stops to let him out, assuming he would be turning into the flow of traffic. But no, instead of turning right and going with traffic, he guns it (tires squealing), into the oncoming traffic lane (yes, going against traffic the wrong way in the wrong lane), and proceeds to cut across two more lanes to go the opposite direction. He cut it SO close and came SO close to us that I think Tom could have reached out and touched his car. (Now, this is someone who deserves to be in a serious accident.)
  6. So we just barely recover from that asshat and are talking about how much we hate hate HATE stupid drivers when some asshole in front of us decides to turn left—across two lanes—at the last minute and cuts us off. Thank goodness for antilock brakes or we would have rear-ended him (without a doubt). He got a good solid minute of horn blasting at him. Do people not ever look at the traffic surrounding them?
  7. About 1/4 mile down the road, still fuming at the asshole who almost caused us an accident…someone behind us realizes—again, at the last minute—that the lane he’s in is an exit, so he swerves back over into our lane and almost rear-ends us (god forbid he step on his brakes).
  8. Taking the highway home, we ran across not one but two trailers on the highway that had NO lights on them and were so big you could not even see the truck pulling them. It’s never safe to pull a trailer without lights, but even more so when it’s dark. I swear, where are the cops when you need them?

Stupid Driver Gripes

Give me a license to pull people over and write tickets and you don’t even have to pay me.

I SWEAR THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED: In the left lane, a slow-moving garbage truck. In the right lane, a slower-moving semi. I was in the left lane, behind the truck and another car. As us two left-lane travellers are approaching the point where we can merge in front of the semi, the car in front of me moves into the left turn lane. Cool, I think, he is getting out of my way and I will be able to pass the truck and semi sooner. So, as I merge into the right lane (in front of the semi) and then go to move back into the left lane (in front of the truck), GUESS WHO IS ALSO MOVING BACK INTO THE LEFT LANE IN FRONT OF THE GARBAGE TRUCK?? The guy who had gone into the left turn lane!! YES, FOLKS, THE @*$!% USED THE LEFT TURN LANE TO PASS!! Had I been paying less attention, or had I moved just a hair quicker, he would have smacked right into me. WHERE ARE THE COPS WHEN YOU NEED THEM?? Needless to say I flipped the guy off.

I SWEAR THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED: I’m in the left lane behind a slow-moving car. There’s no one in the right lane, but there’s not really enough distance for me to worry about passing because I NEED to be in the left lane to make a left turn two lights up (a short distance). So we come to a stop at a red light, and there’s STILL no one in the right lane. The light turns and off we go, still moving slow. Well, about 2 car lengths before the light (which is two lane/left and right turn only), the car decided to get in the right lane, which is now, of course, packed with cars turning right. So the car stops, with his blinker on, waiting for someone to let him in, which isn’t going to happen because there’s about 10 cars in line waiting to turn right, so he will never get over—let alone through the light—before it turns red. HELLO? Can we say planning ahead? In the meantime, about 8 cars—including me—are backed up behind this idiot in the left turn lane. So I broke the law, crossed the double yellow center line, and passed the fool. Everyone after me followed suit, and I didn’t bother to look behind me to see what happened to the idiot in the car.

I HATE PEOPLE WHO:

Leave their blinker on FOREVER when they’re obviously not changing lanes. It’s even MORE annoying when you hang back to let them in and they don’t merge.

Slow down before getting into the left or right turn lane (when there’s obviously NOTHING in their way TO slow them down), thereby causing you to slow down as well.

Slow down on the expressway BEFORE getting into the exit lane (duh, that’s what the lane is there for—so you don’t interrupt normal traffic flow).

Think they’re SOOOOO cool and sit leaning WAAAAY back in their seat (so you can barely see their eyes over the door frame) and drive with one arm; this is generally a young man in a muscle car. (See next item.)

Can barely see over the steering wheel, for whatever reason. THIS JUST CAN’T BE SAFE! Get over your insecurities and sit on a book or something—no one else other than your occupants will know, and the rest of us will feel a lot safer knowing you can see your surroundings!!

Aren’t paying attention (or don’t know the rules of the road) and don’t turn right on a red light.

Keep inching forward at a red light and then don’t go when it turns green.

Pull out RIGHT in front of you when there’s NO ONE behind you…and then don’t speed up.

Dart in and out of heavy [generally rush-hour] traffic to get ahead—when it’s obviously pointless since you end up stopped at the light together. (See next item.)

Cut in front of you (with barely a foot to spare) just because you’re not tailgating like everyone else.

Fly by you going at least 75mph in a 55mph zone, and then slow down to 70mph on the expressway, so you pass them doing 75.

Refuse to approach actual highway speed while on the expressway on-ramp, interfering with your own merge onto the highway.

Live in Michigan (or northern states in general) and don’t know how to drive in inclement weather or on snowy/icy roads. They either drive way slower or faster than conditions warrant, or think that they can blast through anything just because they are driving a 4×4 (FYI: 4x4s really have no effect on ice—they slip just like the rest of us).

Wait for you to pull out of a “good” parking spot instead of parking 5 spaces farther away.

Don’t go the speed limit. This is especially annoying on a rural highway (55mph) when it’s impossible to pass and you’re stuck doing 45-50mph because they’re out joyriding.

Drive in the left lane at the EXACT pace as the right lane—instead of using it for passing, which, of course, is what YOU want to do. This can happen either on the highway or a 4-lane thoroughfare.

Are driving slow for miles and miles…until you get to a passing lane (or a passing area) and suddenly they’re moving at the speed of light—so you can’t pass—and then after the passing area is over, they slow back down to their previous speed.

Don’t use cruise control…they pass you and then you pass them and then they pass you and then you pass them—all the while not changing YOUR speed at all.

Force you to pass them on the right. They stay in the passing lane regardless of their (your) speed, and then look at you like they’re pissed that you passed them on the right…and then they STILL don’t get over in the right lane.

Stay (or get) right on your ass, so, thinking they really want to pass, you move over to let them, and then they drop in right behind you.

Are going a bit slower than you, so you pass them, then they get on your ass, so you move over to let them pass, and they stay in the left lane going your same speed…which causes you to nudge your speed up a bit (because, of course, you’re quickly approaching another slow-moving car), and you cut in front of them to pass [the second car] bceause they didn’t keep up their passing speed. (I just did this recently and I LOVE it. Serves them right for not having the balls to pass.) BUT THEN, they have to get right on your ass again, and then fly by you doing 90, only to slow down again 2 miles later. Whatever.

Have waited too long to pass and then DART in front of you, causing you to hit the brakes. (See next item.)

Cut in front of you to pass and then don’t get out of your way when they see you quickly coming up behind them.

Turn their blinker on RIGHT AS they’re making the turn.

Don’t use their blinker when cutting directly in front of you.

Dart in front of semis as they’re coming to a stop—as if semis can stop on a dime.

Come to a complete stop before merging onto the highway. TWH

Have been waiting in the “left-turn-only” lane and THEN decide to go straight—pulling right out in front of you and cutting you off (since you were in the correct lane). This actually happened to my boyfriend, and he almost got into an accident because of the asshole. TWH

Wait and wait and wait to pull out into traffic and then pull out RIGHT in front of you—when if they would have gone right away, there wouldn’t have been any problem.

Don’t know when to honk the horn.

  • This actually happened…A mini-van almost causes an accident with an Explorer, the Explorer screeches to a (sliding) halt to avoid the collision, and then comes to a stop behind the mini-van, which is now stopped at a red light. The Explorer then sits behind the mini-van at the light for at least a minute, and then, as traffic starts moving again, decides to start honking the horn. So, may I ask, what is the point of honking so long after the fact?? That’s just it—THERE IS NO POINT—it’s a stupid driver. Honk at the time or don’t honk at all.

AND JUST WHEN I START TO THINK I CAN’T COME UP WITH ANY MORE GRIPES, WE TAKE A WEEKEND TRIP…

Can’t maintain a constant speed (in a no-passing zone, of course) and consequently travel at 65mph, then 50…55…60…55…50…65, etc. I’d much rather follow someone going a constant 60mph than some idiot going all speeds.

Don’t give it extra gas to maintain speed going up a hill, so they slow down to 45 or 50mph, and then reach 70-75mph going down the hill.

When I’m the third car in line and the idiot in front of me refuses to pass the slowpoke in front of him—even when there’s PLENTY of time, which means I never (okay, rarely) have enough room to pass both cars at once.(See next item.)

When someone then comes up behind me and, since they’re obviously so much more studly than anyone else in line, they attempt to pass all three of us, and then have to cut in the middle somewhere because they ran out of time. I’d like to NOT let those people back in and force them to run off the road—it’s the price they would pay for their stupidity.

Don’t turn their brights off after you pass them.

Get on your tail like they want to pass at a faster rate than you’re currently going, so you speed up to finish passing, and then they drop way behind you and never pass.

Have to fly by you to pass, and then pull RIGHT IN FRONT of you. (OR…see next item.)

Have to fly by you to pass, and then pull RIGHT IN FRONT of you…ONLY to slow down so you have to pass them 10 seconds later.

Pull out directly in front of you when you’re doing 70—causing you to practically slam on the brakes—only to turn off a half mile down the road. Generally these are old people.

Make like they’re going to turn into a drive, so you go to drive around them, and then they suddenly pull back into the stream of traffic and you have to slam your brakes to avoid hitting them.

People who cut in front of you to make it onto the exit at the last minute because they either weren’t paying attention or they have no idea where they’re going (on ramp or off ramp, it’s the same story).

Brake at every intersection (major or minor) because they apparently have no idea where they need/want to turn.

Drive down the middle of the highway for more than 50-75 yards or so. Are they drunk? Do they realize what they’re doing? Don’t they care? Do they think they own the road?

Are driving in the left lane (of a city thoroughfare) and are partially hanging over into the left turn lane—forever.

VISITOR SUBMISSIONS

Courtesy of Chuck Johnson, who had this to say:

“I just read your driver thing, and I done woke up my roommate laughing my bollocks off…I think I have experienced every one of those on my journey to California.”

  • How about the motorhome towing a Geo Tracker in the slow lane and then pulls in front of me when I’m doing Mach 5 to get around a semi who is going 3 miles an hour slower then he [the motorhome] is … So [the motorhome] goes back to [the slow lane in front of
    the semi] … and now that they are going the same speed, they both approach the small incline and the motorhome is now going slower and the semi is going a constant speed [so the semi passes] and now the motorhome is behind the semi again. The motorhome driver is
    usually this little Mr. Magoo type of person who is white-knuckled and confused.
  • Or the old Honda Civic Hitler Mobile that you get stuck behind at a stop light, just so it can just totally smoke you out during the whole process.
  • Or the people who are too scared to pass the cop car that is from a whole different county.
  • Commuting to college is one thing when you’re doing it during rush hour, but when you add stupid drivers you are essentially adding another half hour to the commute. I approached Hwy 18 off of I-5 which has a steep hill with a passing lane. I decided to just punch it in the “Hammer” lane and get ahead of the Semi. Well half way up was the guy who was at the end of a pack of cars and is now in the lead and doesn’t want to committ to the 15MPH+ over the speed limit rule and realizes that he doesn’t want any of that and tries to get over……when there’s a semi right next to him. So he just coasts with his signal now in the off position. Now I am getting passed by everyone changing lanes and the exit is coming up. So now I am signaling, trying to get over, and all I get is the finger. I just laugh and realize this is just another moment of a “Stupid Drivers” episode.

Courtesy of Jim, who had this to say:

“Great list! Had road rage till I started commuting 120 miles daily – now just watch and wonder.”

  • The person who pulls out of a side road onto a busy 2-lane in front of of a long string of traffic traveling at 50mph.. which is alright..(esp in Boston, where everyone expects it) EXCEPT, unlike in Boston, the idiot takes 1/2 mile to accelerate to speed “because it saves gas”!!! Never mind that everyone else had to slow down behind the moron and used up more gas total than if he’d floored it. AND (!!!) if he has a late model car with port EFI, he aint saving any gas anyway.. Saab proved it. (slow vs accelerating Briskly, not flooring it)
  • You leave your house and as you pull onto a street a block down from the stop sign at the intersection, you see someone facing you, waiting to turn left .. you stop at the sign – the traffic clears and HE NOW WAITS ON YOU TO CROSS!!!! Of course you hesitate to pull in front of him, because he MIGHT be dozing and realize he has the right-of-way and smack you on principle… and the BEST variant.. You wait for 2 minutes at a sign for the traffic to clear so you can turn left onto a thru street; Just as a small gap in the traffic appears—some yo-yo comes screaming up to the sign opposite yours and flips on his right turn signal.. Now do you go or not??? I GO and see the guy mouthing Expletives at me.. You know, you cant even get a cop to define the right-of-way in these situations!!! I think they really dont know… Keep it up but keep smiling—life’s too short.

PEEVES I SNAGGED

Todd is bellyaching about…WHAT is the deal with jackasses who INSIST on BACKING into parking spaces?!? There is NO reason for this AT ALL!!! I’m driving through a parking lot. There’s someone in front of me. I see them pass an empty spot. “Oh, boy,” I cheerfully think. “I’ll get to park there my very own self!” But, before I can even begin to turn my wheels in the direction of the spot, that car’s back-up lights spring to life, and the chowderhead is now BACKING INTO THE SPOT!!! And he can’t do it quickly, either. Or correctly. He’s got to shift into D again, so he can straighten out, then back into R so he can get in the space. HELLO?!? Does the entire world have to stop and wait for your precious vehicle to get itself situated? Why the he** can’t you just pull into the spot facing FRONT?!? Do you honestly think that you’re impressing anyone? Has it not occurred to you in that peabrain of yours that any time you think you’re saving by being able to pull out of the spot going forwards is taken away by your inablility to back into the space in the first place? You people make me SICK!!!

And Misty says…It’s not really a peeve just a comment on the guys with low rider cars. It’s funny how they will buy a $4,000 – $5,000 car and spend $2,000 having it lowered so it’s about one inch off the ground, another $1,500 on reverse wheels, and at least $1,000 on the stereo, and of course, the big tailpipe extension that looks like a chrome funnel. I know they must think they have the hottest babe magnet vehicles around, but what they really have is a funny looking car, that can’t go over a speed bump at more than 0.25 MPH, a stereo that does nothing but blare out “THUMPA THUMPA THUMPA” to be heard for miles around, forget trying to have a conversation while the stereo is playing, and a tailpipe that makes their car sound like its blowing farts as they drive. Get a clue guys, the ladies aren’t impressed.

And an AOLer says…We have a lot of construction on our highways and especially the Interstate. My peeve is when one of the lanes is closed ahead, people have plenty of time to merge but they continue to fly around me and then want to merge into traffic right when the closed lane ends. Someone will always let them in line but you can bet it won’t be me.

And Grandnet says…One of my peeves is parents who carelessly drive around with small children not in car seats. I’m always seeing people with their little ones standing on the seat next to them. Why do these people think that there is a law concerning small children and car seats? So the kid fusses, give him a sucker, but don’t put his life in danger. Accidents can happen in the blink of an eye and the kid can be airborne and through the windshield before you know what’s happened. Maybe these parents just don’t care.

Roommate Rules

Extenuating circumstances will, of course, be taken into consideration regarding all the following rules.

KITCHEN RULES

Preferably, dishes should be taken care of right after eating/cooking or within the same day. If someone else wants to use the pan you just used, they shouldn’t have to wash it OR wait for you to wash it. They should also not have to move your dishes to use the sink to wash their own dishes. If not at all possible, they should stay in ONE side of the sink only…no fair taking up BOTH sides of the sink (see next item).

NO STACKING DISHES TWO FEET HIGH ON ONE SIDE OF THE SINK.

No dirty dishes in the sink longer than two days if they’re just dishes. This means nothing that holds water and can start smelling.

No dirty dishes in the sink longer than one day if they’re icky, really-need-to-be-washed-and-you’re-just-feeling-lazy-I’ll-get-around-to-it-whenever dishes.

No dirty dishes/pots/pans left sitting on the stove or counter longer than a day.

If you drop or spill something, or something leaks a) on the floor, b) in the frig, c) anywhere, clean it up. This means wipe up your toast crumbs, flour dust, cooking spatters, etc.

Keep the microwave wiped out. If something explodes or spatters, it’s much easier to clean then instead of later when it’s hard and crusty and caked on.

If something boils over, wash the metal plate under the burner. Don’t keep cooking on it, letting it burn and stick more.

If something falls onto the burner, clean it off—don’t just let it sit there and burn and stick more.

When washing the pots/pans, wash the outside of it, too. And make sure it’s clean. Once it’s dry, if you notice it’s still dirty, DON’T PUT IT AWAY. Wash it again.

Don’t leave the dishes in the drainboard for more than a day or two. Put them away as soon as they’re dry, if possible, if you haven’t dried them individually.

Don’t leave food on the counter/take care of leftovers. (Sure, this may sound obvious, but I’ve seen cornbread in the pan on the counter for two weeks. This is just plain ridiculous.)

NO STACKING THE GARBAGE TWO FEET HIGH. Empty it when it needs to be emptied.

Clean out the frig on a regular basis. Meaning, go through your shit, and if you’re not going to eat something, toss it—and if it’s bad, toss it. Don’t let it sit there (in the way) until it starts smelling or your roommate takes it upon herself to throw it away because you won’t.

Don’t leave jars/containers/pitchers/etc. in the frig with only smidgeons of stuff or three sips of juice. Finish, empty, or toss it.

Become a Tupperware Mistress. Meaning, get used to putting stuff in Tupperware!! Don’t just cover a huge plate (or whatever) in tinfoil and leave it. Don’t leave something in the soup pot for a week after you’ve made it. When portions get smaller, transfer it to a smaller container. Yes, I realize this one is somewhat personal choice, but…if I want to use the soup pot, it better not be in the frig with 3-day-old soup. And I don’t want to have to worry about knocking your stupid corn-on-the-cob off the plate when I have to move it to get to something else you’ve conveniently blocked. (Yes, I’ve seen corn-on-the-cob on a dinner plate, barely/loosely covered in foil—FOR A WEEK AND A HALF!! Like the foil was helping anything. You might as well just throw the corn in there by itself.)

DISHWASHER RULES

Run it when it needs to be run (i.e. when we’ve run out of something). Don’t wait to fill it to the brim if we’re out of glasses or silverware.

If there’s room, ask your roommate if she has any dishes in her room she’d like to add.

When the dishes are clean, EMPTY THEM. Don’t stack dishes throughout the kitchen just to avoid emptying it and don’t use dishes out of the dishwasher in hopes that someone else will empty it. If you’re the first person there, empty it. Try to keep things equal.

Don’t put in big Tupperware—especially if it’s not that dirty (i.e. bread crumbs/chopped veggies, etc.). Take the 30 seconds and wash it by hand so we can fit REAL dishes in to be washed.

When loading the dishwasher, load all the dishes that are around in the kitchen, don’t just load your own.

Learn how to load it correctly. (There’s nothing more irritating than a bowl in the wrong place taking up the space of 4 dishes.)

MISCELLANEOUS RULES

No fair clogging up the kitchen table with stupid miscellaneous shit for more than the time you might be working on something (i.e. balancing a checkbook/working on a scrapbook/something similar where you need the use of the entire table). It doesn’t matter that no one immediately needs to use it—it looks tacky.

You can do whatever you want—create whatever mess you want—when the roommate is gone for the weekend, but everything better be somewhat picked up by the time the roommate gets back. This goes for the kitchen (dishes especially) and the living room/dining area. No one likes to come home to a disgusting house when they left it in a decent condition.

Try to pay bills ahead of when they’re due—and mail it in time. Whoever is responsible for the bill being late pays the late fee.

If the bill is in your name, you take the higher half and you mail it. (It sounds petty since “the higher half” is only a penny more, but it’s the principle of the thing and it’s only fair.)

If any form of a rebate is given to the apartment on a bill, it will be split 50/50, regardless of who spends more. (Yeah, I know it sounds logical, but one of my roommates split a long-distance phone rebate about 20/80 in her favor because, as she said, she spent more.)

“IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING” RULES

Long-distance calls take precedence unless it’s important or an emergency.

You must answer call-waiting beeps if at all possible, unless you’re in the middle of a crisis phone call.

Leave roommate’s messages on the machine. Meaning don’t just write it down for them, since we all know we can’t take as detailed a message as people usually leave.

If you need to use some food of your roommate’s, ask first if possible.

Always replace food items if you finish it or use a lot of it. Don’t use all but 1 teaspoon of the butter and then leave it just so you won’t have to replace it. (This was done to me a number of times.)

Roommates will agree (this might include compromising) on some sort of cleaning schedule for common areas, whether it be duties-per-person-per-week or duties split between who hates/likes doing something.

Roommates will inform, if/when possible, when guests will be arriving/around.

Be considerate—if your roommate is watching TV/listening to the radio, ask if it’s okay if you do the other—don’t just do it. If it’s okay, keep the volume down.

Roommates will agree on use of air conditioning. It should not be running when it’s cool outside and you just don’t feel like opening a window or turning on a fan.

Roommates will be considerate of the other’s schedule, re: “quiet hours.”

No having sex in your roommate’s bed. 🙂

SUGGESTIONS BY NELL

Don’t read your roommate’s diary. (I have had no less than three roomies read my diary. I should publish the thing!)

Don’t leave face mask remnants or removed fake nails lying on the end tables or TV stand.

Make sure your boyfriend doesn’t use my bath products or towels.

Compromise on TV viewing – especially if you’re not paying the bill. Don’t sigh when I watch an episode of “The Real World” or “The Daily Show” then grab the remote and force me to watch 3 hours of the French Open or a day of football.

If you say you’re going to do a chore—DO IT!!! Don’t wait for a week and then bitch about how much harder that chore has become. (ie – dishes, mowing the lawn, cleaning the bathroom.)

Don’t lend MY STUFF to YOUR friends without asking first.

Don’t slam doors when I’m in bed and expect me to be quiet as a mouse when you’re sleeping.

SUGGESTIONS BY D

When dirty dishes, including left-overs are left for more than 48 hrs, they are to be removed to the offending roommates room. If said dishes are returned to the kitchen without being washed, they may be returned to the offending roomates room, and turned upside down on the offending roommate’s bed! (We had to do the upside down thing with a roommate’s leftover french onion soup once. Gross!)

My roommate from hell.

READ ON ABOUT THE PSYCHOTIC, MENTALLY UNSTABLE, HORMONALLY IMBALANCED, DEMON BITCH FROM HELL!

WARNING: I am not exaggerating when it comes to the vulgar language.

FIGHTING OVER A FLOWERPOT? Only with Terrie. She hung this basket from the porch corner and I almost ran into it like three times so I asked if it could be moved to one of the other three hangers. She asks why and when I told her, she says “Well it was there last year and you didn’t have a problem with it then” and I said “Well, maybe not, but I do this year” and she asks what the problem is and I told her it hung too low and I kept almost hitting my head on it and she’s like “Well just move around it.” I tell her I shouldn’t have to when it could easily be moved. So then she says “Well—it doesn’t bother me” and I said “Well I’m taller and it bothers me.” She gives me this look like I’m asking for the world and then says “We’ll see” and I was like “What’s the big deal? Just move the damn plant.” Then she gave me some lame excuse about having it in that specific spot so when it rained it would get wet. I told her she could move the damn thing when it rained, I just didn’t want it there all the time. Well, about four days later she finally moved it.

FIGHTING OVER A BREADMAKER? Yep. This was a BIG one that happened when Wayne (her man) was there. We had previously talked about all the delicious breads we would like to make so I thought she’d be thrilled when I got a breadmaker for my birthday. Well, I figured the best place for it would be on this one shelf of hers— where there was plenty of room and it would be totally out of the way (because I knew she’d have a fit if it disrupted the look of the room). So I put it there and she had a total f***ing fit over it. So she starts yelling at me, and soon we’re screaming and swearing at one another. She basically told me if I wanted to put anything anywhere I’d have to f***ing buy it myself (i.e. shelves, cupboards) because she had to buy all her stuff herself. I said I hadn’t thought it would be a problem since there was plenty of room and it would be out of the way—which I knew she would like—and she went off on how it was HER space and she had no goddamn use for a bread machine anyway and what ever made me think she’d think that she’d want one at all? I told her how we had talked about it before and I thought she would be cool about it and she just rolls her eyes and was like “I never said any such thing.” Fine, so I said “Well where will you LET me put it? Let’s talk about it” and she says something like “If I had my choice it wouldn’t go anywhere—we don’t need it and there’s nowhere to put it.” I say “Well I want it and it’s going to go somewhere, so what about here?” and she rolls her eyes like How can you even suggest that? and says “Well, it doesn’t look very nice there.” I shrugged my shoulders and walked away. The next day she berated me for the whole scenario taking place in front of Wayne. I basically said Oh well, sorry, but I was pissed and I needed to talk about it right then. She didn’t care and she was pissed. Oh well.

ME BEING SARCASTIC. She basically told me that I couldn’t be sarcastic with her because she just didn’t like it and she thought I was being mean. I told her it wasn’t meant to be mean, and that I was sorry, but it was really too bad because it was part of me (my personality) and it was just a fact of life. She basically said tough shit, don’t do it around me, I don’t appreciate it.

FIGHTING OVER KLEENEX. Can I kill Terrie now?? Jesus, just when I think things are going okay with her, she does something f***ed up to piss me off. One night when I got home, I saw that she had written me a note saying it was my turn to get kleenex. Okay, fine. But there was already some in the bathroom so I didn’t think much abut it—I just knew that I had to get kleenex the next time I went to the store. I thought it was a little bizarre that the box of kleenex in the bathroom felt quite empty, but I didn’t think much about it—I thought maybe she was trying to get out of buying her box and just put the remainder of her own personal box in there. I wasn’t going to argue about it because I didn’t really care. So the next morning the note is on my trunk and I think she just wanted me to be sure to see it. Okay, fine. (Yes, I’m almost to the major point here. You just needed all the background info for the full effect of the story.) So the next day when I got home, I was looking for something else in my closet and I found two boxes of kleenex. Cool, I thought, now I don’t have to go out and buy any. Melissa (a neighbor kid who was basically my “little sis”) came over and she was doing that braided floss wrapping thing on a piece of my hair and, for whatever reason, I happened to look over on my bedside shelf—and guess what? MY F***ING KLEENEX BOX WAS GONE. Then it hit me like a brick—the tissues in the bathroom were mine—that’s why the box felt so empty. So, she obviously came into my room and took my own personal box of kleenex because, apparently, it was my turn NOW to get the kleenex and she felt she had the f***ing right to do it. Can you believe she took it upon herself to take my something out of my f***ing room? That would be like her owing me money and me seeing some on her dresser and just taking it! Well, since Melissa was there I didn’t want to confront her with it right away—besides, I was so pissed I wasn’t sure what would happen. Well, later she was watching a movie and I didn’t want to interrupt that (although, thinking back, I should have) and then I just didn’t want to deal with it the next morning. So tonight’s the night. I still can’t believe she had the f***ing nerve to do that. She slays me, she really does. And the thing that gets me is that I KNOW she THINKS she DOES have the right to do whatever the f*** she wants around there—even with my stuff! Why she has that belief is beyond me.

TERRIE AND I HAD IT OUT LAST NIGHT. And, of course, she totally turned the whole thing against me. I told her I appreciated her leaving me the note about the kleenex, but she really had no right to go into my room and take my box. To which she basically said “Well if you would remember that it’s your turn I wouldn’t have to” and then asked what the problem was. I told her the problem was that she just took it upon herself to go into my room and that was not suitable. She said she wouldn’t have had to do it had I had a box of kleenex there already. So we fought like cats and dogs for like 20 minutes. Of course she thought she was in the right to take them out of my room (since it was my turn) and maybe that would teach me a lesson. I told her it really wasn’t her place to teach me a lesson like that. She kept asking me what the big deal was (about her scamming my kleenexes) and I told her that it felt like an intrusion and she had no right to go into my space like that. I must have said something like that about six times and I still don’t think she got it. To her, she had the perfect reason to do what she did (as I told you she would). She always reverses it and blamed it all on me (as I told you she would). Then, of course, she gives me the lecture on responsibility and how I’m an adult and should be able to remember to get tissues. I told her what it really boiled down to was that I just don’t notice stuff like that. So, in the course of our argument, I told her that she was controlling and asked why she was always right and I was always wrong. She brushed that off, of course, and went right on ragging on me. I gave her this example: If you had money on your dresser and you owed me money and I just went in there and took it—you would have an absolute FIT over it. And, of course, she said she wouldn’t. (I know DAMN WELL she would.) Now I can’t wait to see what we argue about next…

I swear Terrie abuses state aid programs—and thinks she deserves it. Her attitude (which she stated to me once): F*** it, I’ve paid so many goddamn taxes I deserve to get some money back when I’m not working. But if she’s so goddamn worried about money—she could easily go out and find a job. But no, she won’t accept anything beneath her standards. State aid is a good thing for those people who really need it, but definitely NOT for someone like her—someone with a college degree who could easily work a number of jobs—but just refuses to—who seems to have enough money to buy sports equipment, whose brother was footing the rent bill because she couldn’t afford it, etc. But she thinks she’s entitled to absolutely everything. I might grant her something like the food stamps—but, you know, some things you just go without when you don’t have money—like a dermatologist’s appointment! She got a red blotch and it was like OH NO—rush to the dermatologist so my face clears up and my self-esteem doesn’t drop. Christ, get real. A dermatologist’s appointment when there are people who really need to see doctors for serious problems? I think that’s a bit self-indulgent.

She started an argument over whose bike was going to go where. She got her spot on the porch (protected from the elements under the roof and able to lock to the posts) because, in her words, that’s where she had it last year (before I moved in). We talked about different options FOR ME—but compromise on her part was NOT an option. She told me I could put my bike on the front porch, but gee, thanks, it’s in full view of a VERY busy main avenue, and with no good way to lock it, anyone happening by could steal it. So I decided to put it on the other porch (away from the street) and cover it with a tarp. (See next topic.)

Since she had 90% of the porch covered with flowers/flowerpots, they needed to be moved to put my bike there. I figured she would have an absolute FIT if I moved them (god forbid I do it wrong) so I left her a message about it. When I got home, nothing was moved and she had left me a note saying that 1) she NEVER said SHE would move the flowers, she said they COULD be moved, 2) What happened to putting my bike on the front porch? and 3) Here she said some stupid thing about if I put my bike against the house whoever said I was going to do that? I’d have to take my handlebars or pedals off because they’d be in the way of our neighbor’s flowers. Okay, like where the hell did THAT come from? It doesn’t even make any sense. But that was Terrie. So I moved the flowers and that was that.

After my boyfriend came up for the second weekend, Terrie says that if he’s going to be showering here frequently, I’m going to have to clean the shower more often because it’s getting dirtier quicker. Yeah, right—those extra two showers every other week are getting it THAT much dirtier. Give me a break. I ignored her and never did it.

She told me—in no uncertain terms and with no compromise in her voice—that my boyfriend would have to be out of the apartment before she got up in the morning (when he left Monday mornings) because she felt very uncomfortable not knowing when he might be coming downstairs and she liked to leave the door open after she showered. Fine, I could understand that, but it meant he would have to leave before 6am and I knew that would never happen, so I told her that I didn’t think that would work and how about if he wanted to come downstairs, I would come down first to make sure she was dressed (or whatever). She said we could TRY it once. (Like it’s only up to her and she’s LETTING me do this. It wasn’t at all like we were discussing it. It felt like I was a child asking to stay up late if I did the dishes.)

I knew she didn’t like the drainboard we had so I told her I would bring mine to use. She thought that was cool. Well, it turned out to be smaller than the one we had (but the pieces fit better) and WE said WE’D think about it. So two days later she tells me “I don’t think I’M going to use it—you can take it home.” Excuse me? I was just flabbergasted at how she said it: I don’t think I’m going to use it. Sorry, but last I checked there were two of us living here to make decisions. It wasn’t like she said “I don’t think we should use it because of XYZ,” but it was like she made the decision and that was that.

FIGHTING OVER CLEANING—AGAIN. About 10pm, she came up and asked when I was going to vacuum and I told her I already did. Well, she tells me, it certainly doesn’t look like it. I shrug my shoulders and tell her I did it this morning. Then she asks if I shook the rugs—and I was like HELLO? I just told you I did the floors—but she keeps on me. Then she asked if I did the stairs and I said no, and that I really didn’t think they needed to be done four times a month anyway—every other week was enough. So, she bitched about it and then said Fine, you do it now and I’ll skip my turn. I wanted to smack her. Then I asked why everything, it seemed, had to be done her way and she tells me in this annoying tone WE AGREED ON EVERYTHING AT THE BEGINNING. (I should have responded—No, you stated what was to be done and I had no choice but to agree. But of course, it didn’t come out that way.) I said something more like I agreed to your standards and she says “Yeah, we agreed.” It was a no-win situation. (She always thinks she’s right and no one is going to change her mind, regardless of the facts.) So we went around and around on other issues (one being that damn hanging flower pot again) and it just got ridiculous. So the next morning I thought, well, we’ve had a night to sleep on it and get over any harsh feelings so I’ll be nice and say good morning (which I never do anyway, except when she says it first). And I totally got the cold shoulder. The microwave door slamming shut was basically her response. Fine, I thought. F*** her, I don’t need that shit in the morning.

I “finished” cleaning (everything but the stairs) and I was going to apologize for the debacle the night before, and then I was going to get into how I still thought everything was done “her way or no way” and I was going to tell her the examples of (1) her mom always giving her more cups/mugs and they always end up hanging in the kitchen (where there isn’t a lot of room), but when I want to bring one damn appliance—my electric can opener—I get hassled about it and (2) she told me I could put some of my stuff in her cupboard and when I did, she moved it and told me there was no room (there was). So, then I fell asleep and heard her come home but I just didn’t feel like getting up quite yet. Then she was on the phone—forever. By that time I had decided f*** it, I don’t feel like I should have to be the one to apologize—so I didn’t. I went to talk to Michelle (next “apartment” neighbor), who was out planting flowers, and Terrie walks out and says a few words to Michelle, looks right by me, and leaves. Michelle asked about it, so I proceeded to tell her. She told me the Nixon’s (the landlords) don’t like her or the dog and that she doesn’t either (good—it’s not just me). Michelle told me she’s been worried about me ever since I moved in because she knows what Terrie’s like. She told me this (which sounds like everything I’ve been dealing with): Last year Terrie planted flowers in Michelle’s “area” (the flowerbeds along her part of the house)—without asking. Michelle had been planning on putting stuff there, but she figured it was nice of Terrie to do it, but as long as they were in her area, she was going to put them where she wanted—so she moved them. And guess what Terrie did? MOVED THEM BACK! So Michelle called her and said the flowers were beautiful and thanks for planting them, but as long as they were by her place, she was going to have them where she wanted them—and Terrie had a fit about it.

TAKING OUT THE GARBAGE? She was always bitching at me about the garbage—telling me it was my turn—even though she was the one who just crammed it totally full and I had just taken it out the day before. It wasn’t a big deal overall, but it’s like she was just trying to find something—anything—to bitch about.

NOVEMBER 15, 1996

AND THEN THE 3 MAJOR FIGHTS OVER 3 DAYS THAT FINALLY CAUSED ME TO MOVE OUT… (Yes, these deserve their own paragraphs.)

FIGHT #1
Terrie went total-ballistic-ape shit on me. I had been talking to Michelle (our donwstairs neighbor) on the phone and broke off with her to talk to my cousin who beeped in long-distance. Terrie came home and I told her Wayne had called and I would be another 10 minutes or so. Fine, no problem she says. She also told me her disk had a virus blah blah blah so she needed my help on her resume/cover letter. Fine, no problem. So after I finished talking to my cousin, I quick called my friend back just to touch base and finish our conversation (no longer than two minutes). So I go downstairs and ask Terrie if she wants to do her resume thing now and she says sure so I sit down and work on it—for like 10-15 minutes. Fine, no problem (although I could have cared less about helping her, since we had been getting along lately, I figured why not?). So as we’re both sitting there, we hear this weird noise, and as we come to realize it’s Michelle singing to her music, we both look up at each other, smile, and laugh. She’s reading over her resume still, so I reach over and call the neighbor (to tease her about her singing). I’m not on for more than 20 seconds when Terrie is suddenly hovering over me telling me she needs to use the phone. Over and over. Well, fine, but give me a damn minute to finish my call. So I tell Michelle I have to go, but she has to tell me this one last thing that will take a minute. No problem, right? Wrong. In the meantime, Terrie has gotten verbally abusive and is practically screaming at me: “Get off the phone. I told you to get off the phone. I told you I needed to use the phone so get off the phone. F***ing go downstairs and talk to her.” Etc. I tell her to chill a minute because I’m almost done. She continues to bitch. So I take the phone away from my ear and say “Terrie, if you’d quit bitching at me, I would have been finished with this conversation two minutes ago and this wouldn’t be a problem.”

Well, of course that means nothing to her and she continues to bitch at me, now escalating her banalities into “I can’t believe you’re so f***ing rude, I told you I needed to use the phone before and you told me you would be off in 10 minutes and then I HEARD YOU CALL MICHELLE AGAIN” and I was just staring at her in disbelief—since I had been off the phone for a few minutes because that’s when I asked if she wanted my help with her resume!! Apparently her call was THAT important, right, that she had to wait until I was on the phone to make her call?? So I finished my call and she picked it up to call Wayne and I was not about to go down without a fight. So I started in on her, saying how immature she is and it was just a damn two-minute phone call and where does she get off getting ballistic on me and she’s like “I can’t believe you just f***ing picked it up and made another call.” I tell her because it was funny—we both laughed at Michelle’s singing so I thought I would just call her to be funny and she’s like “I didn’t think it was so funny.” (Okay, so she apparently smiles and laughs when she’s pissed?) So I tell her that if HER call was so damn important she should’ve called BEFORE we sat down to do her resume thing. So then she makes it sound like it’s my fault—she says “Well you were on with your cousin and then you called Michelle back and then you came down here”—and I told her her resume could have certainly waited and she said well that was important, too. (And obviously more important than this supposed all-important phone call to Wayne that she was ripping me a new one over.) I mean, she could have even called him while I was reading over her shit—she wasn’t sitting there the whole time—only about the last five minutes. So we’re going around and around and we’re swearing at each other like you wouldn’t believe and she’s telling me how f***ing rude and inconsiderate I am. So I tell her I can’t believe her attitude—here I am helping her with her damn resume that I could care less about but that she asked for help with—and she’s ripping on me for making a two-minute phone call when she wanted to use the phone? That’s immature. So she tells me “If you don’t f***ng like it you can move the f*** out.” I kept telling her I couldn’t believe she was getting this upset over such a little thing—and she kept telling me how f***ing rude and inconsiderate I was for just blowing her off.

So I told her how rude and inconsiderate I thought SHE was—the night before when I was having a major crisis (when my boyfriend broke up with me), I told her my friend would be calling and I really really needed to talk to her. Well, her mom called (at 11:10, and my friend was calling at 11:15) and I reminded her that my friend would be calling and that it was extremely important I talk to her. She said fine. (And do I need to mention that 10 minutes earlier she was being the extremely caring roommate [about the breakup thing] and giving me a hug and talking to me about it?) So I’m sitting up in my room, a total basket-case, waiting for my friend to beep in. And when she did, what did I hear? “Angi, I’m talking to my mom, can you call back in about 10 minutes?” EXCUSE ME? So I brought that up in our fight over the phone—that that was rude and inconsiderate of her and—get this—she tells me I’m lucky she LET me talk to my friend—she didn’t HAVE to. (Isn’t that a nice roommate to have? She didn’t “have to” let me talk on our phone.) I said she wasn’t even talking about anything important and here I was devastated about my boyfriend breaking up with me—and she tells me not to change the f***ing subject, that has nothing to do with [the current fight] and I said something like “It sure as hell does—I’m supposed to bend to your every whim and demand about the phone, but when I really need to use it and call you on something rude YOU did, you pitch a fit?” Well, of course she didn’t want to hear that, so she bitches again that it has nothing to do with anything. Right, whatever. So this went on for like a good 15 minutes—totally screaming and bitching at each other. Towards the end, she tells me that she “can’t wait until I need to use the phone and she gets to repay me for this bullshit because what goes around comes around” blah blah blah. So I go upstairs and I hear her call Wayne and tell him all about our fight—all calm like it’s really no big deal and it’s all my fault, of course.

FIGHT #2
It was my weekend to clean. I took out the garbage/recyclables, shook the rugs, vacuumed, swept the floor, and cleaned the bathroom (tub, toilet, sink, and mirror)—like always. When I got home around 10 there’s a NOTE for me saying the tub is still dirty, the mirror hasn’t been cleaned, the floors haven’t been swept, and the toilet is still gross. I marched right upstairs and told her I did everything and she proceeds to tell me “No, you didn’t—and everything is still filthy.” Well, this starts another fight. She bitches that I shouldn’t try to “buffalo her” and I should just be mature about it—and I’m going to have to reclean everything. I tell her I am NOT doing that and she tells me I am. I tell her again that I’m not and that’s the end of it. She tells me if I can’t clean it right, I can’t use it (pretty logical for a bathroom, eh?). She tells me that when I moved in I agreed to clean and I said “Yes, I agreed to clean, but not to your standards.” She says “No, you agreed to clean every other week” and I told her yes I did, although I didn’t have much of a choice and she tells me I didn’t have to move in. So then she’s telling me that I have to clean the bathroom her way and if I don’t, I have to move out. Please. She threatened that she was going to raise my rent (something she obviously can’t do), kick me out (another thing she obviously can’t do), or make my life a living hell. I said “Why should you stop now, you’ve only been doing it for the last year” and she says “Oh, and I suppose you’ve made my life a joy?” and I said no, not at all. She kept referring to it as HER place because she moved in first—so I’d have to move out. (She’s so delusional it’s not funny.)

THEN she brings up the (friend/her mom) phone call again—saying again how she didn’t have to let me talk (and she almost didn’t) because she was talking first and I said “Even though I had an urgent/important call?” and she basically told me she didn’t care what she was talking about with her mother and that she didn’t care about my problems and I was just damn lucky I got to talk to my friend at all.

FIGHT #3
I moved some things around on my shelf (the one thing she LET me have in the kitchen) and when I got back Sunday, I see she has moved the stuff! Well, the one thing I didn’t care about, but the others I did, so I moved it back (some Tupperware containers). So I get home from work Monday and they’re moved again!!—so I move them back. I get home from my parents’ Monday night and she’s moved them again!!—so I move them back. I got up the following morning and SHE HAD MOVED THEM AGAIN! And this time, they’re nowhere to be found. Of course, she’s been staying in the bathroom in the morning past her allotted time, trying, I assume, to piss me off (considering the whole cleaning fight the night before), so when she gets out, I ask where she put my Tupperware because I wanted it out because I was going to try to find the missing tops and organize it and find a good place to put the set (which I had been wanting to do, that’s why it was setting out to remind me!). She tells me she put it away. I tell her it’s MY stuff and I had it on MY shelf (“that you ALLOWED me to have”)—she didn’t get the sarcasm of that statement—and that’s where it should stay and she should keep her hands off it. She tells me it looks like total crap there and she’s not about to let the rest of the house look like my room. CAN YOU BELIEVE HER? Like my room has anything to do with anything?? Besides that it’s my damn room and I should be able to keep it however I want it. So, I didn’t even have a response for her pointless and irritating comment so I just told her I wanted the Tupperware back, which it was when I got out of the shower. I believe I gave notice to my landlords that day.

AND THE ARGUING AFTER I MOVED OUT!!
The landlord and I arranged to meet Monday morning to go through the place—just so she could “make sure” everything of mine was taken care of and so Terrie couldn’t hold anything over my head, you know. So I called Terrie about 10 minutes before I was coming over—just to make sure the chain wasn’t latched. I waited for the landlord in the parking lot so we could walk in together. So I let us in and was talking to the landlord at the same time and Terrie got all defensive right away: “IS SOMEONE WITH YOU? WHO’S WITH YOU?” So I told her the landlord was here to “check me out of the apartment” and make sure everything I needed to have done was done. Fine. So right away Terrie starts bitching and “tattles” that I didn’t clean the carpet in my room and the landlord says “Terrie, we’ve already worked that out with the security deposit and you know about it.” Terrie claimed ignorance and asks how much and the landlord says “IT’S BEEN TAKEN CARE OF, Terrie.” Then Terrie turns all sweet for a moment like “Oh, okay, I was just making sure.”

So then I ask Terrie for my Tupperware and—JUST GET THIS—she says I can’t have it because I haven’t done what I was supposed to—I didn’t clean [this, that, and whatever]. “EXCUSE ME?” I say, “But what the hell does that have to do with you keeping my Tupperware? And besides that, I most certainly DID clean [this, that, and whatever].” So then she totally goes off on me about how I’m so lazy and I didn’t clean anything I agreed to clean and I’m so irresponsible and the refrigerator is still a mess and there’s no way in hell she’s going to be charged to clean it because I didn’t do my part blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. As she said to the landlord about me, “She hasn’t done anything the entire year she’s been here. I’ve cleaned the oven and she agreed to do the frig…” I said I never agreed to do any such thing upon moving out and Terrie just rolls her eyes at me and says “Oh Jennifer, you know you’re lying” or some such idiocy.

The landlord and I were just looking at her like she’s psycho so the landlord opens the frig and says “This is fine, the $15 cleaning fee in the lease is like if there’s dried syrup or crusty eggs or something major we have to clean out” so then Terrie calmed down a bit but you could tell she was still pissed because the landlord took my side (who WOULDN’T take my side?). Then the landlord noticed that part of the frig was broken (that they had tried to fix once already) and she asked Terrie about it and Terrie gets all snotty and says “ASK JENNIFER ABOUT IT—IT’S HER FAULT” and then stands there like TAKE THAT and I said “Yes, Claire, nothing is EVER Terrie’s fault—of course it’s my fault because it happened to break when the heavy stuff was on my side and not hers.” The landlord said it wasn’t a problem.

So then I tell Terrie I want my Tupperware and she says “We’ll wait to see what the landlord says” meaning if my room is “acceptable” to move out. Give me a break—she was holding my Tupperware RANSOM! Is that not one of the most childish things you’ve heard? Fine, I say, knowing full well there won’t be any problems. So I go upstairs with the landlord and by this time, Terrie had moved/condensed most of her boxes and they aren’t covering up NEARLY as much space so I show the landlord where the boxes were beforehand and tell her that’s why I didn’t vacuum the whole thing. (Bit of background: I went over the night before to clean my area and vacuum my room. But when I got to my bedroom, the ENTIRE floor was covered in HER boxes. There was about a one-foot space around the edge of the room where I could actually vacuum. So I did and that was that.) She deemed everything okay so back downstairs we go. The landlord said my room is fine, so I tell Terrie to go get my Tupperware, and off she goes in a huff. So she comes back and practically throws it at me, I give my keys to the landlord, I tell Terrie I hadn’t vacuumed the whole room because her stuff was in my way and she bitches again how god**** lazy I am and tells me I should have moved it—“it’s just empty boxes”—and I tell her I was not about to move HER god**** stuff out of my way to clean—especially when she knew I was going to be there to clean—and that she shouldn’t have had anything in there anyway since I was still paying rent and it was still my room. She says “You move, you lose” and I said, “Well, you have your stuff in there, it doesn’t get cleaned.” (The landlord is witnessing all this, mind you.) Then I told Terrie I didn’t wipe out certain cupboards, either, because her crap was now in there and she just keeps giving me the OH PLEASE, GIVE ME A BREAK look. So we are screaming and swearing at one another and I finally said “You know what Terrie? I don’t need your shit anymore. Goodbye.” And I just walked right out the door. She didn’t like that at all.

So I waited for the landlord to come out and we talked for another half hour, bitching about Terrie. Apparently the landlord had asked her about the missing rent again and all of a sudden Terrie “doesn’t have time to deal with this”—claiming she had to shower and get ready for an appointment at 11. Yeah, right, she’s wrapping Christmas presents in her robe and PJs at 10:45 but she still has to shower and get to this appointment in 15 minutes? Right. So that was the end of Terrie—THANK GOD.

COMMENTS FROM 2 COOL READERS

Jane says: I was waiting and hoping for the part where you “kicked butt.” What about the Jerry Springer show? (Subject: Roommates from Hell.) You could invite her then stuff the Tupperware up her jumper??

Terry says: OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why aren’t you in jail? I sure as heck would have been, they would have found her hanging in that dirty shower with tupperware crammed in her nose if she were my roommate!! I can’t believe you took that for a whole year (or more). You must be easy going or something…Anyway, that was a hell of a story. I haven’t been glued to a web page like that in I dont know how long. You need to write a book on roommate etiquette or something. Jolly good story!!!!