Temper, Temper

I am an evil neighbor magnet. Evil neighbors flock to me. And it's grossly unfair dammit!

Evilness is apartment four and her penchant for visitors each and every single day of the week. Now I'm not against having company over - as long as they call ahead and give me time to throw shit in the closet - but I'm considerate enough to ask my company to do one major thing when visiting. I ask them to park in the outer spaces of the driveway so that they don't take a spot of someone who lives here.

I like to think of it as a common courtesy. The nice neighbor thing you do when you're sharing space with other people. I don't need a memo from the landlord to remind me to be respectful and considerate, I simply am.

And yet, the mad hatter in number four is completely clueless. Tonight I came home with a car load full of groceries, an exhausted danced out daughter and feet as cold and as wet as an iceberg in the Artic, only to find that not one but two cars of non-townhouse dwelling people were parked in my spot and Bob's spot, the two closets spots to the house and our doors.

To say I was mad would be downplaying things. I was pissed like you wouldn't believe. And mostly because we have repeatedly asked and spoken with Cruella to inform her guests about not parking in our spots. Now it may seem a bit trivial, but trust me, when the snow is knee deep and you've got over twenty bags of groceries, only two arms to carry them with and two inch heels on, you get a wee bit upset when some idiot is parked in your space.

Therefore my driveway rage could not be helped.

And so I did the only thing I could think of to do. (Keeping in mind that my daughter is impressionable didn't help much with holding back the tantrum.) Coming into the driveway at a slow crawl, I aimed my vehicle and my bright lights directly at the offending woman's front window, followed by a held down honk of the horn meant as a get off your ass and move your car hint. (A hint she didn't take.) Realizing she wasn't going to correct things, I pulled into Sheila's designated space, unloaded KC and the first set of groceries from the car and struggled my way inside.

"Kace," I said to my daughter as I set the bags inside the front door, "I want you to take these bags to the kitchen while I go back out to get the rest."

"Are you going to go knock on her door, Mom?" she asked.

"Not tonight. I don't think that would be a very good idea right now. Now stand back from the door, Mommy has a point to make and it's going to be loud." And with that, I slammed my door shut hard enough to make the house shake.

Yet even that didn't draw the evil woman out of her hole. And so I stomped back and forth through the snow, one bag after another schelpping my way as quickly as possible before going back out one final time to move my car. I couldn't after all steal Sheila's space just because someone had stolen mine.

But I couldn't quite shake the feeling that a lesson needed to be learned somehow. For a moment, I considered parking my vehicle in front of the offending cars, thereby making their leaving impossible without knocking on my door and asking me to move. And though this was the option I really wanted to choose, I decided against it, more worried that someone would back up into my car to make their own point. I wasn't going to risk it.

So I did the next best thing ...

This is the part where I should probably explain that I do have a penchant to be a major bitch when I feel like I'm in the right on something. In fact, speaking astrologically as we have been, it's exactly what any Scorpio would do. Revenge first, questions later.

In my case, possessed with the power of 4 wheel drive and the balls to back it up - figuratively and not literally - I backed my vehicle up over the unplowed area of snow and squeezed myself beside one of the cars, leaving no room for the driver of the other car to be able to shimmy inside without entering from the passenger side.

How many of you out there are completely shocked?

I was completely immature and I loved it. Loved it to the point that when I heard her company leave, I opened up my front door and took in the fiasco without any shame.

(Sorry this isn't fine tuned for corrections tonight, I'm a bit done it from the day.)