Totally going to hell for this one

July 9th, 2015, 2:16 PM by Goddess

Me to Mom: I was talking to (powerful friend). I mentioned (so-and-so) might contact them for a job.

Mom: What did (powerful friend) say?

Me: That (so-and-so) isn’t smart enough to think of doing that. Also, that they wouldn’t get past the front door.

Mom: No one in their right mind would hire that person. (So-and-so) needs to move out of the state.

Best day ever

July 2nd, 2015, 11:31 AM by Goddess

First day I didn’t wake up screaming in a long time. 

I am very very  happy today.  

*hides text message history*

June 17th, 2015, 7:22 PM by Goddess

My new favorite word must be dipwad. Given how many times I’ve said it. 

The good news is, I come up with a new word every week. So if anyone ever finds my phone (*gulp*), they’ll think I just know a lot of, um, short-bus drivers who are a couple tacos shy of a value meal because they couldn’t find their ass cheeks even with Siri’s help.  Noodles. 

So yeah. Look at the pretty photos instead if you get your hands on my phone. But perhaps stay away from some of the videos …  😉

On edge

June 9th, 2015, 6:23 PM by Goddess

After a day dealing with Convoluted and Combative (same person), I came home to the neighbors pounding on my door and staring at it hatefully when I didn’t open it. 

I complained again. What do they plan to do to me if I would open that door?

They are young. Honestly they look to be 19 years old. Like everyone else here. What do they have to be so angry about?

The HOA called their unit owner to complain. I know it’s a “four strikes, you’re out” policy. I think this is my third time getting them in trouble with their landlord. 

I hope they can calm down. I hope Convoluted becomes less Combative. But I feel like I have a better chance of evicting the neighbors than the other. 

That’ll learn ya. Maybe.

June 8th, 2015, 1:12 PM by Goddess

I used to make up nicknames for people.

Now I do entire songs about them.

At my old apartment, I used to adapt Christmas carols “in the key of Dump.” I had dozens of ’em. People knew me because I was always the asshole singing through the hallways.

I sing when I drive, too. When I’m white-knuckling it amid the blue-hairs and wack jobs who got their license out of Cracker Jack boxes.

So now when I sit and sing, it’s my grandest hope that people don’t understand the words.

Or maybe my grandest hope is that they do.

Because, if someone making up lyrics about you doesn’t “learn ya,” I really don’t know what would.