Nerts!

I fucking call bullshit!!! What the motherfucking hell is wrong with people? And why do some people have the brainpower of a dead battery? I realize that being a neighbor sometimes means having to be nice to people who you'd rather see thrown into a garbage disposal, or dealing with incestuous young folk that move in with them, and their ridiculously bad language that's loud ALL THE FUCKING TIME and even worse, in some kind of southern tongue... but COME ON.

I have one such neighbor. Let's call him Serial Killer. Ever since he [rightfully - I'm with him there] divorced his ugly ass cheating wife, he's been, well let's say, a little more frugal. He's lost a bunch of weight and looks even more creepy now. He was psycho about mowing his lawn before but now it's like he's on fucking crack. His new thing is edging. He has edged around his lawn everywhere, down the drive and around the sidewalks, around his bushes and empty garden, his back porch... everything. And he has done it to the point of creating at least 4 inches of dirt. No grass is left. Nothing! And it looks fucking horrible. Especially where there's still some kind of grass, but it's all dried and yellow.

Now fine, you're lonely. Whatever. But WHY IN THE FUCKING GODLESS HELL WOULD HE THINK I WANT MY EDGES TO LOOK THAT WAY TOO?!?!?! The fucking dick edged from my house to the sidewalk (and not the other bit), a brick and a half on ONE side of my walk, and in patches here and there down my sidewalk. WHAT THE HELL?! Now I have random yellow borders! Are you fucking kidding me? Get off my property you fuck. People who know me know I have a problem with this guy. When he mows his lawn he usually uses a leaf blower to blow all his cut grass into the corners of my drive and that's his version of cleaning it up. God forbid he put it back in his own yard. And sometimes he doesn't even do that. If there's a chance of rain, he leaves it there so not only do I have a green drive, but it's wet and muddy. Yeah, thanks. Asswipe. I've been dealing with that for years. But now he's going to randomly edge shit and make my yard look shitty like his? I DON'T THINK SO. If he does it again, there will have to be words exchanged. How can he not see he's killed his grass where he edges and then think that'd be ok to do in someone else's lawn?!

Holy fuck. P.S. I love swearing and then ending my sign-off with xxoo.

UJ xxoo

Now open: Devil Daycare

So, there is an older woman who basically took over my job at this place I used to work. She is a lawyer but doesn't practice much anymore, hence the crap part time job she now has. She is divorced once, remarried and has four kids total (I think). I've never really liked her much but I just have to post this story I recently heard about her. And when I say heard I don't mean through some snotty grapevine. It's on dead set authority.

Anywhore, apparently her now husband has been wanting to file for divorce. I guess he was given 30 days to decided whether or not he was going to, and he finally decided he did. So she didn't want him sleeping in their bed with her and she told him that. He was none too happy and there was a bit of a struggle with her in the bedroom on one side of the door and him - with his foot in the doorway - on the other. He was pushing and being a usually dumb ass guy (I mean, I presume...) and somehow HE broke his glasses. So what does he do? He calls the police and has her arrested for battery! And what do the police do? They believe him and take her to jail. He also told the police that she "pummeled" him and that's why his glasses were broken. So she had to call my ex-boss to post bail, but she is not allowed back in HER house for 72 hours, so her and her kids are all staying at ex-boss's house right now.

Oh my fucking god. I would sue his ass. He's a lawyer too so I'm sure there's going to be some definite legal shit happening. And I was just going to say I can't believe the police believed him over her, but I do believe it, and that's just sick. Jesus where are these people born to become such monsters? Did they go to Devil Daycare? Fuck. What a dick.

UJ xxoo

Rude ass motherfuckers!

Good fucking grief. Sometimes I really don't understand what makes people tick. Or rather, what makes people dicks. I swear the teenage generation gets skinnier, dumber and more whore-y as the years go by. My friends and I were NEVER that annoying. I'm sure to some people we were, and I'm sure everyone says things like that as they get older, but no fucking way were we that prissy and inconsiderate and so incredibly arrogant.

One thing I do every year on the 4th of July is go to my town's parade. I don't even think other towns around us have parades and I've always thought it was a cool, long-standing tradition. I'm definitely not someone you could really call patriotic, but 4th of July is my second favorite holiday and I've always been a stickler for certain traditions. I grew up thinking it was cool and being excited to go. My face wasn't painted like a fucking flag and my family didn't dress in matching outfits (with headbands... and beads...) but still! It was a family thing and you looked forward to seeing certain people or things in the parade, making fun of the clowns, feeling bad for the poor saps dressed in over sized dog suits (don't know where that tradition came from...)... etc. I don't think I should really have to explain what it [should] feels like to have something every year you do with your family or community or what-the-fuck-ever. The point is, this year, we stood in the same place we did last year. And another family (the ones with the headbands and beads) stood in front of us, by the curb, like they did last year. Oh my fucking God. Two teenage girls, who I'm assuming were sisters, in these hoochie-esque dresses, ridiculously big sunglasses, purses you could fit Mary Poppins in and flashy sandals came over and stood to our right in the little bit of shade there.

Twat #1: "Oh my Gawd I'm dying."

Twat #2: "Yeah, like, I'm dying."

(Mom says something to them from the curb)

Twat #1: "Mooooom, I'm dying!"

(Mom says something about them getting a ride with some guy)

Twat #2: "Oh my Gawd he's not here yet. I'm like, dying."

Twat #1: "He won't be here for, like, another half hour or something and I'm dying." (to Twat #2) "I'm seriously dying."

Twat #1: "I know, it's, like, seriously hot."

And so on and so on. Granted, it was friggin' hot, BUT IT WASN'T THAT HOT!!! Jesus Christ if I had to listen to them any longer I was going to yell, "THEN DIE ALREADY AND SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I mean, if you're gonna be twat teenagers and complain about having to be outside in the natural sun and air with your family in public, fine. But don't stand 15 feet away from your family and yell the conversation back and forth! Nobody wants to here you whine bitch. And who the fuck talks like that?! Ugh I wanted to throw up the snow cone I tried to eat before it melted. And if I had I would have aimed at their pretty little dresses. Which, by the way, were less covering than what I was wearing (tank and shorts) and I don't do well AT ALL in the heat and I wasn't suffering to my last fucking breath.

Another lovely part of parade time happened before that whole situation actually. We were standing in front of a store that has two windowed sections, separated by a brick wall that sticks out a little. So we're standing there (important part) IN THE CORNER, where there's the most shade and blockage from the gross wind. All of a sudden this little buggy and a mom comes round the corner and says all fluttery and innocent (not to me, I guess just to the fucking air), "Oh, can we just sneak right in here?" and half-heartedly laughs... and proceeds to fucking back her ass up so far into the corner that I had to move. What the fuck?! Seriously?! She had 3 or 4 other kids with her too that all just piled in after her. Meanwhile, my mom and dad and I are STARING at them in disbelief that they just took over. Like, hello! If I hadn't of moved I would have been literally up against the wall and some little girl. I must have said, "Rude." 5 or 6 times really loudly. I don't know if they heard me but they didn't even say, "Oh we're just gonna use the shade for a minute" or "Excuse us" or ANYTHING. Wow. Eventually they left and I said, "Yeah, goodbye!" really loudly. We stood nice and further apart then to make sure no one else clammed in.

Oh. Em. Gee. Rude ass motherfuckers.

UJ xxoo

In Memory

Today would have been my Grandpa's 94th birthday. It's been so long since he was around it seems like a forgotten dream to try and picture him here. So many things have been void of his presence and sometimes it's overwhelmingly painful. I was very close with him and when he died it was the first time I had experienced a death in the family. It destroyed me for a very long time. Not to mention I half-seriously blamed myself for his passing

He basically died a smoker's death, which makes it even worse for me as I continue to be one of those people I used to hate. I was so anti-smoking. I used to mutter "puff puff puff" when I'd pass someone smoking. I have now been smoking for 10 years. Everything he went through has now all mixed together in a mirage of jumbled memories, but I remember his oxygen tank. I remember the way he would cough. I remember his bike accident that put him in the hospital and made things irreversibly worse. I remember the night my parents came into my bedroom to tell me they were going to the hospital and that they didn't think he was going to be with us for much longer. I can picture my room and the things in it, and how I was staring at the vent while I told them I was tired and opted to stay home and in bed. Now, I realize now like I truly did back then that his death is not my fault. But, when I found out the next morning that he did in fact pass away, well, you can only imagine how I felt.

The wake and the funeral were extremely difficult for me. I remember crying a lot. I remember my boyfriend at the time and my one cousin trying to console me in their own respective ways. I remember the necklace my best friend at the time had gotten me to wear. I was just thinking about it the other day, and I have no idea where it went. Every year since I have gone to the cemetery on his birthday and left a card. I don't think I've been every single year on the actual anniversary of his death, but I know I've gone quite a few times. It will be 11 years this August.

My Grandpa was so special, and probably a million other things that I never found out. I have learned more about his hobby as a photographer, which had provided some solace since that is a deep connection for me. He now has my Grandma, who passed away in January of 2009. It was almost - but not quite - the same feeling with her, like it's been that long too. She had Alzheimer's and wasn't the Grandma I knew and loved for a very long time before she died. My Grandpa's death really changed her as well, and we're convinced it was a big cause for her decline in health. It is weird and comforting to see her name on the grave marker now, but I can only hope that they are finally together and have found some kind of peace.

I know no one (other than CB) really reads this blog but I just felt the urge to send all this out into the void. Today is always a quieter, slower day for me and if someone else knows how I feel about everything, then someone else has acknowledged my Grandpa's life and what it meant.

UJ x

IMT. VD. S.

It's almost 10pm and I'm at home feeling weird and extremely overwhelmed and emotional because I take my favorite shows (well, my absolute favorite and one other) uber seriously. These two said shows aired their season finales this evening and I have no problem admitting that my eyes are rather puffy and I have a slight headache from crying. Yeah? So the fuck what. Most of the shows I watch I'd rather live in than the "real world" and these two said shows would be a fucking dream. Settle down. I'm not crazy. Well, not in a haul-me-off-to-the-nuthouse way. I love what I love and I'm passionate about it. That's me. Why am I telling you all of this? No fucking clue. Like I said, I'm sitting here feeling all the above mentioned things and I remember CB saying she had posted another blog, so I read it, and have apparently decided to post one me'self. And apparently about absolutely nothing.

Oh that's right... I went to see a movie today that I was highly anxious about seeing. (Another one of those deep passionate connections to actors and stories and plots and worlds that don't exist although they should...) I guess I should have figured that that would be the one time when the other people in the theatre would be COMPLETE FUCKING DOUCHEBAGS, and totally interrupt my journey into the void of make believe. There was this Chinese couple that sat fairly close to us (me). Why do people do that? It was 1:00 in the fucking afternoon and the theatre was basically empty. Short little fatty and her tall brainless-looking husband. I assume. I don't know if they are accustomed to viewing movies in public like this, but most people don't fucking talk the whole goddamn time. And I'm not exaggerating. THE WHOLE TIME. In Chinese. And not whispered. TALKED. With hand gestures. Like one of them needed subtitles. Seriously?! This movie was that important to them? People who were in front of us and there before the Chinassholes moved because they were so annoying! We even sshhh-ed them FOUR FUCKING TIMES, really loudly, and they didn't even turn around. Wow. The arrogance. The stupidity. The rudeness! Fuck. Slightly less annoying, but annoying still, was the guy by himself at the very top left, who, spending most of the 2+ hours messing with his phone, tapped his foot on our row throughout 95% of the movie...making my seat rumble constantly. Oh my fucking God people. This is why we suck. People don't care about anybody except themselves and when they are somewhere doing something they apparently think they're entitled to pretend they're alone, or that everyone else needs to just deal with them. No. Fuck off. I fucking paid to see the movie, not to miss bits here and there because I'm trying to tell you to shut the fuck up and stop kicking my chair. Holy Hell, what is wrong with people?!?! And we wonder why little ole UJ wants to live in the movies...

Alright. I think I'm done. I couldn't really let loose with the f-word in the company in I was then. I had to get it out.

UJ x

I'm a bad girl....

...and no, I'm not talking about the "whoops, I did something bad" kind of "bad girl"... I'm talking about the "Holy Fucking Hell I can't deal with the girly-ness of this situation!" kind of "bad girl". (And, fuck me, that was a lot of quotations in one sentence!)

See... here's the thing. I don't have girl friends. Well, that's not 100% true. I have a few close girl friends. Enough that I think I can count them all on one hand...maybe.. Let's see, there's...
1) Union Jane - my bestest bestie Naked Robber in the world
2) Roomie - my old roommate whom I've known for.ev.er.
3) Sheboygan - who's like an older sister that I never had
4) Schoolie - my classmate whom I somehow 'adopted' (lol)
5) Short Shit - my actual real life little sis
6) Sis - a girl I've known since birth

and.. uh.. that might be about it. I mean, I have other girls that I am friendly with, but I wouldn't say I'd want them in my wedding (lol).

Herein lies the issue. I don't do 'girl drama' well. It's not that I don't care. It's that I tend to say the wrong thing. Not even the wrong thing really. I have this problem where I say the honest thing and then sometimes girls get all more dramatic about it and apparently I'm "not helping" when in all reality I'm helping them MORE. But no one sees that. Most girls want a girl friend who will lie and tell them what they want to hear. Sorry. No can do. I can sorta kinda fib in some circumstances but if you're going to ask "what would CB do?" Well... CB is gonna fucking tell you. (LOL....I can't help it.)

Bear with me whilst I give you an example:

Schoolie has this new man in her life. Schoolie also has had some pretty dramatic relationships in her past. She likes to ask me lots and lots and fucking lots of questions about said relationships and she then proceeds to look at me like I'm fucking CRAZY when I tell her honestly what I think. So I stopped giving her advice. She says, "What do I say to him?" I say, "Tell him to get naked, hump a donkey and post pictures on the internet." She says, "WTF? No! I'm not telling him that!" I say, "Well then don't ask me what to tell him." I know that it's mean, but I can't be in her relationship for her. I just don't have that kind of fucking time on my hands. Plus, the guys she dates are totally not my style so it just wouldn't work out (lol).

I guess what I'm trying to say is that, in most cases, I'm a decent friend. I don't try to be mean. I give honest advice. I give good ego boosts when they're needed. So... if I say, "Well, you're awesome and super hot and any guy should be dragging himself at your feet and worshipping you." Then, I mean that you're awesome and super hot and any guy should be dragging himself at your feet and worshipping you. But don't ask me what to say to a guy if you can't figure something out because if I'm having a particularly random-question-filled-day... then it might not be something you would want to repeat. :-)

~Classy Bitch

Happy goddamn New Year

Well, so much for our dreams of becoming famous and witty bloggers. Yeah, that wasn't our dream, but it's good to know that actual lives have been keeping us from blogging, and not the fact that our mom's kicked us out of the basement and we haven't been able to find a Starbucks with free wi-fi. It's been many-a-moon since I've posted, but I see that my partner in crime let loose about New Year's Eve and all its so called glory... so I will re-introduce myself to another year of meaning-to-blog-but-never-getting-around-to-it in the same fashion. I also want to say that anything I mention about other people religion-wise does not directly reflect my own views and opinions. Oo, I should write DVD warnings...

31 Dec 2005: On the 28th of December, the Asshole came home from work and told me he was leaving. Completely out of the blue, no explanations. Of course, I eventually found out he was giving the finger to the God he supposedly asked into his heart and therefore extending that finger to our marriage (not reflecting my opinion) by cheating on me with his fat ex (does reflect my opinion). But, back then I was shocked and went through one of the most horrible periods of time in my life thus far. So, New Year's Eve '05 was spent doing sound for one of the bands my parents are in. I got paid so in retrospect it could have been worse, but I didn't care that night. I was incredibly uncomfortable, sitting in a romantically lit room at a seemingly expensive settlement for older people, watching a bunch of couples dance on one of my favorite holidays. I racked up a $70 bill for texting my best friend at the time because I couldn't stand it. My mom came over to me at midnight and I think I said something snotty and didn't even look up. I feel really bad about it now, but I was using all my self control that night not to... I don't know... throw champagne at someone. This was also quite possibly the first time I ever really considered becoming a full out lesbian.

31 Dec 2006: I had been seeing someone since the Spring of '06 and he has since earned the title of "worst boyfriend ever." I knew it for a while when we were dating but I stayed with him. Probably because I had just gotten divorced and I inadvertently had to not let anything fail like that again. Or something. The point is when New Year's rolled around, WBE was MIA. Again, as he liked to do very often. I went to a bowling alley with my friend and her friend, but we couldn't bowl until after midnight since they had sold tickets for parties. I can't remember if we actually bowled or not but we spent most of the night, and the big countdown, in the eating area sipping free champagne from a plastic champagne fountain thing. I think WBE called me before midnight, but I missed it, freaked out, called him back and he didn't answer. Also something he did often. I remember thinking that having a crap New Year's was becoming a ritual, and I wasn't happy with that.

31 Dec 2007: I started dating someone in May of '07. It was finally a real relationship and we were very happy for the first year or so. Only problem was that I had yet to be fully introduced to his, we'll call them, "tendencies." Wait, do I have a name for this guy? I seem to remember naming him The One, but that sure as hell ain't gonna fly anymore, so let's just settle it and call him Heartless. There are so many insulting names I could pick from, but the song Heartless is my ringtone for him and I couldn't decide otherwise. Anywhore... it was our first New Year's together and what do we do? We go to a fucking Holiday Inn because him and his brothers and all their friends and all their skanks go there for karaoke all the time and they know everyone. What do I do? I sit there, smiling and nodding if one of the two, maybe three, people there who are nice to me say something, and get ignored by Heartless all night. He gets drunk like he always does and stops to say something to me every now and then, but I just sit there, watching him flirt and dance with everyone but me. It was unfortunately the beginning of a very long and painful second year of mostly the same shit, except getting progressively worse.

31 Dec 2008: New Year's #2 with Heartless. I had tried to make a stand to do something I wanted because of what happened the previous year (not to mention how things had been going in our relationship between the two dates), but he wouldn't have it. We went to his brothers house for another night of him getting drunk, flirting and stopping by where I was sitting - by myself, the whole night - to tell me to cheer up or "fucking smile." He was the last person to kiss me after midnight. After. I decided that I had a headache and left as quickly as I could. I cried on my drive home and couldn't believe he had ruined it again. (Yes, yes, I know at that point I should have believed it because for some reason our stupid relationship lasted for almost 2 years and I had plenty of time to wise up and leave. Point taken, now fuck off.)

31 Dec 2009: I had just started seeing someone I met at a bar that I frequent (and no I don't frequent bars for that, or for drinking, so stop judging me). I guess you could call it dating. I said it from the beginning, he's fucking crazy, and I shouldn't have gotten involved, but I did. We didn't spent New Year's together. I went out with friends and he had to work. I guess it was neither good or bad, but it was just another year that didn't break the cycle, although it came much closer. I guess it's just bad looking back because the guy turned out to be a freak, a cokehead, a liar, a fucked up mess and he really hurt me. It's all over now and it kind of seems like a bad dream, but I guess I should be thankful that I'm still moving further away from that first horrible New Year's.

UJ x