Gettin' My Ugly On

For those of you who know me well, this story may seem out of the ordinary. After all, I am the most quiet, gentle, poised, easygoing person on the planet. What? How dare you laugh at that. Seriously now, just work with me on this one.

Most of you may recall an incident when the "ugly" side of me appeared and I put the fear of God into one of my neighbors who was making too much noise when my children were trying to sleep. To refresh your memory, I have included a link to that story:

Probably Should Have Been A Cop

Not that this sort of behavior happens regularly around here or anything. Sometimes I think it's weather-related, or possibly due to a full moon. My neighbors just have ways of tweaking me wrong and turning my otherwise kind, sweet, subtle nature into a beast. What happened you ask? I'll tell it to you:

I was sitting in my big comfy brown chair, "possibly" ebaying and watching Miami Animal Cops on Animal Planet (there's my first problem--I start picturing myself as a big bad police officer ready to take down the idiots who DARE to harm an innocent animal--but I'll save all of that for my therapy sessions which are long overdue :) ) and all was quiet in the house. Well, of course there's the annoying cricket, but I'll let him live for now. Anyway, my living room gets rocked by the loudest VVVVRRRRRROOOOOOMMMMMM I've ever heard. It lasted about 2 minutes straight and sounded as if someone/something was gonna drive a Harley straight into my dining room window. Bracing for the impact and almost spilling coke all over the computer, I realized it was my oh-so-darling neighbor down the alley playing w/his Harley again. DUDE---do you have to do that at 9:30pm?!? Reeeeeally?
One time, no harm I guess. I get back to my "possible" ebaying and get all caught up in the Animal Cops call about an abused dog. Suddenly---VVVVVVVRRRRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOMMMMM. Ok, one time was p-u-l-e-n-t-y. Now he's just being a jerk. I sat in the chair getting more and more annoyed with every extra VROOM he was producing. After about another 2 minutes of it, he stops. I think to myself---ONE more time, buster, and I'm going out that back gate to give you a piece of my mind. I was secretly wishing he would do it, just so I'd have an excuse to go out there. About 15 minutes later....you guessed it....VVVVVVRRRRROOOOOOMMMM.
I was hot on his trail like an Animal Cop headed to give a citation for dog abuse. I flew out the back door, flung open the gate, and waited for him to turn the Harley off. I could hear him chatting with someone else, but I thought it best to speak my mind loud enough for the both of them to hear me.
"EXCUUUUUSE ME! STOP DOING THAT! I HAVE SMALL CHILDREN TRYING TO SLEEP! DON'T MAKE ME COME OVER THIS FENCE!!" My Sheltie gave me the look of, "Wow, that was impressive. What are you gonna do to him? Beat him up with an umbrella? Shine a flashlight in his face?"
Whatever. I felt better, and that's what counts right? I huffed back into the house, plopped back down in the chair, gulped down my coke, and waited for the adrenaline rush to leave my system. All the while I'm thinking, "Dude, you got so lucky. I could have SOOOO whooped you. Consider that your warning."
Back to watching Miami Animal Cops---and just so you know, he hasn't vroomed again since.

You know what the difference is between a stay-at-home momma and a bulldog? LIPSTICK :)