Won't you be my neighbor?

This post serves no other purpose than getting this issue off my chest because I am confident there is nothing I can actually do in real life but get over it.

There's this new lady who moved in upstairs. I remember the day she moved in because she took advantage of that day to also have a family reunion in our hallway as everyone she ever gave birth to and all of their kin were yammering and yelling and stomping and running everywhere. I didn't think much of it though; my thought process was more along the lines of "It's nice that her whole family would come and help her," because I didn't yet know I should have been thinking, "They are probably too scared or beaten down to do any differently."

Every Friday since then, it's the same thing. All of her relatives come over and they run and stomp up and down the stairs repeatedly, and they hold conversations with one person right outside my door and the other person all the way up the stairs- two flights up. I know it's Fridays because that's the day Liam spends with my parents every week, and every Friday I think, "Those effers are lucky my son is not napping right now because SMACKDOWN."

Also, she's always yelling to her dog in the stairway, loudly/ obnoxiously/ unnecessarily. You live in an apartment with a dog, you keep them on a leash in all public areas. Common sense: you don't let them wander, and if they do, stop screaming your head off, you crazy old bat. Just go get your animal.

But, whatever. You know. On with life.

A few days ago, we returned home from the pet store where we'd brought Liam to see the birds and fish, and we parked right in front since we were only home to eat dinner and we planned on going out again as soon as we were done eating. The rules of my building are, you park in the back parking lot unless you are unloading stuff or parked short-term. (Two tenants think this doesn't apply to them and park there all the time and block the way, but again, on with life. Whatever.)

This crotchety lady from upstairs happens to come out to let her dog pee just as we're pulling up. As I exit the car the dog trots over to me and I smile. I am not big on petting dogs I don't know so I just say, "Hey, sweetie," and wait by the car talking to Gabe as he removes Liam from the car seat. As the dog is checking me out, the loon upstairs is calling her and the dog's ignoring her. (I can't blame her.) Her voice is getting increasingly loud, and she's obviously incredibly pissed at this point. Finally she just SCREAMS her dog's name at the top of her raspy smoker lungs- instead of just coming over, taking her dog gently by the collar and guiding her inside.

So Gabe looks up, startled, and kind of shakes his head, because let's all agree here: this lady is just annoying and she doesn't need to be all screamy around people she's never formally met.

The lady sees Gabe's subtle reaction and says this, all in one breath: "What, she's goin' deaf, SORRY," and starts swearing and bitching to whoever's unlucky enough to be on the other end of her cell phone. As she pushes- yes, pushes- her dog inside she passive-aggressively adds, "And don't pahk ya cah out front, neithah,"* and slams the door and swears some more.

We go inside and as I am unlocking our door she is entering her own apartment, out of range of our sight, and she slams her door. Twice, for emphasis of how badly she needs attention and/or a muscle relaxer.

Today I was in the kitchen making a tree ornament when the front door of the building opens and I can hear grocery bags bumping dramatically against the screen door and feet stomping. Before I even hear the obscenities I know who it is. Then the yelling starts, "Eff this, eff that, don't pahk out front, eff eff eff, I can't even unload, eff, eff, etc. Am I right?" Some younger voice responds unenthusiastically.

I look out the front window and the driveway is wide open. There's plenty of room for parking and unloading your four bags of groceries. And holy cow! Stop yelling and swearing RIGHT OUTSIDE MY DOOR because I am tired of your stupid bitter voice and your complaining and I wasn't even parked out there and I am obviously the only one who can hear you right now! Even if the men who park in front could hear you, you aren't winning any sympathy from them with your bitching and moaning and stringy hair.

I just HATE that mentality of "If I complain loud enough I will bitch everyone into submission and the world will be mine!" Get over yourself! Really. Trying to sound literate never hurt, either.

Ok, I am over it now.

*In Maine accent this means, "And don't park your car out front, neither," which still isn't proper grammar but, you know... whatever.