Monday, March 30, 2015

When your neighbors are 12-year-old boys...


I have a story to share but first I have to share some photos of the most adorable shoes I found at Target on Friday. Why don't these come in my size? Seriously you guys, I'm jealous of a 1 1/2 year old's wardrobe.
Sandals. Glitter slip-ons.

Also take a look at the view from the Rim of the World Highway! Keith's parents were in town so after church we all went to try this Mexican restaurant that everybody says is OMGTHEBEST, and it was good but I'd rather go to the closer restaurant that makes the one-and-done margaritas Kristie and I had on Tuesday. OH YEAH WE HAD A BLATE more on that later.



Come visit me.


Moving on.

A couple of weeks ago some neighbors put up a basketball hoop across the street from Keith's house. I always park on the [very narrow] street, so he had gone out there and said they better never hit my car with the basketball because I'm very mean and scary. I mean, just look ^^^ clearly scary, right? Right. So.

Last night, I was downstairs for a few minutes, and when I came upstairs the front door was open and Keith came inside and said, "Hey, come outside and meet the neighbors!"

I was thinking, Uh, ok, I've lived here for five months and now it's time to meet the neighbors? Okay..." but I went outside without asking any question and the man, woman, and two junior highish aged boys introduced themselves and shook my hand while looking extremely nervous and terrified and I was like awww they're nervous to be meeting a girl! Adorbs.

Then, the mom (whose name I can't remember because I'm the best neighbor ever) said, "So..." and pointed to my car, Bruce Wayne, which was right next to me but which I hadn't been paying attention to because hello, greeting neighbors and stuff.

I turned around and gasped because...


I had no more back window! I heard the dad say to Keith, "You didn't tell her?!?!?" and Keith laughed and said, "No way!" and I just stood there with my hands over my mouth and straddling the line between laughing and crying.

"So... this boy was throwing and this boy was catching, but this boy threw it poorly and this boy couldn't catch it, and the ball kind of bounced off your window and broke the whole thing. We'll pay for it though!"

And like, you guys, what do you even say in that situation? Everyone was awkwardly laughing and the parents kept talking about how they'll pay for it but I should call my insurance and they had a shop vac that they could use to clean all the glass (is it even glass? I feel like those windows are made of something way stronger than glass) up from inside my car, and I had a lot of thoughts going through my mind:

-Is it legal to drive without a back window?
-It's going to be really embarrassing when they see all the junk in the trunk of my car when they try to clean all the shards of Bruce out of there. I should try to keep my car cleaner.
-Should I tell them they don't have to pay for it? I feel bad for them. How embarrassing.
-I need to pee.

One of the kids did comment on all the crap in my car and his mom said, "Come on, how often do you see me clean out my car? Girls' cars double as extra purses!" and I couldn't tell if she was serious or just trying to make me feel better, but whatever.

Then one of the boys told me the ball didn't land in my car because it just bounced off, and I said, "So I don't even get a free baseball outta this??" and the mom offered to have them sign the ball for me and I seriously considered

It was really difficult watching them basically gut Bruce's backside.


Then they vacuumed it and I kind of wanted to ask them to vacuum my entire car but I refrained because MANNERS.


And now I have a black tarp on the back of my car. The dad asked if I wanted black or clear and I said, "Black. I've been wanting tinted windows anyway."


So now I don't really know what to do. I mean, I guess I'll call my insurance and then call some car window replacement places and try to find the best deal but that just sounds like SO much work and I'm way too lazy for all of this.

Anyway, that's my story now I need to go take a nap bye.

Monday, March 16, 2015

Lately

*Insert obligatory "I hate Mondays" sentence here*

I used to really like Mondays and Wednesdays because I didn't have to go to work until noon, but on Friday my schedule got changed and now I have to be at work at 9 Monday through Thursdays so my partying Sunday and Tuesday night are over. But on the plus side I get every Friday off so I can't complain. And also at my last job I had to be at work at 7am five days a week so compared to that I really have nothing to complain about. Also at that job I could drink wine at 10am and nobody cared. But anyway.

If you don't mind I'm just going to catch you all up on my life lately because I know everybody is probably like, "That Juliette hasn't posted in a week or so and I feel so left out on her life so I'd really appreciate some pictures and bullet points of how she's been doing." Well you're lucky I'm a mind reader because pictures and bullet points are what I'm bringing to the table today you're welcome.

- I can now officially take shots of brandy without throwing up. Keith decided to buy some fancy flavored brandy and then he was like, "Let's do a shot for fun!" and I was like, "How bad can it be?" And you guys brandy is disgusting. Like, it tastes and smells like rubbing alcohol (not that I've ever tasted rubbing alcohol I mean, what kind of person do you think I am?) and I wouldn't mind never taking a shot of brandy ever again. But like an hour after we did the first shot I was like, "Let's do another!" so I guess I'm hardcore.


- For a while I was doing like, REALLY well at eating healthy, but lately that has gone out the window. Like, two weeks ago I went to Target on an empty stomach and I bought so much food and I'm not going to tell you how much of it I ate but you should know that none of this food is in the cupboard or the fridge anymore. I'm seriously considering doing some kind of week long challenge of only eating "clean" and documenting the results. Because it would be nice to wear my pants without having to have them unbuttoned all day.


- No job has ever stressed me out as much as the job I have now. Not even the job where I had to walk a $3.6 million dollar check a few blocks down to the bank and make sure I didn't drop it or lose it. And not even the job I had where I had to pour beer out of a tap but I'd never done that before so I was just giving people glasses of beer foam and then all judged me.

- One of my friends came down to stay with me for the weekend and I realized that I'm a horrible hostess. I provided her with a lovely assortment of chips, cereal, soda, wine, and chocolate and we watched Survivor for most of the weekend and I mean, I loved it but I know not everybody enjoys that level of sloth and gluttony so, sorry Jennie.

- I painted my nails and I'm proud of the result. You guys, did you know you can do french tips with just using the nail polish, remover, and Q-tips? Maybe one day I'll make Keith take pictures of the process and I'll teach you all how to do this. Maybe. I don't want to make you an empty promise.


- Does anybody know of ways to make a lot of money really fast? And please don't suggest the lottery or selling my organs on the black market because I've looked into those and they don't seem promising.

- That's all. What have you been up to? How do you convince yourself to stop eating junk food and try to be a little healthier? Is there any kind of alcohol more disgusting than brandy?

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Really mature things I've done out of anger

Sometimes I'm so mature that I have to stop, pause, and say to myself, oh em gee, Juliette, you're being too mature and it's weird just calm down for a second and giggle at inappropriate things.



Also balls. Hehehehehe balls.

That's better.

I decided to give you some examples of times when I've been REALLY extra mature. Specifically when I'm angry. Below is a list of all the really mature things I've done when I'm angry you're welcome.

The silent treatment. I like to think of myself as the queen of the silent treatment (+until I have a couple of glasses of wine in my belly). But sober, I can ignore a person for days upon days upon days. Once, in college, my dad found my secret blog where I talked about boys I liked and I refused to talk to him for like two weeks until he swore he would never ever mention my secret blog to me (not this blog). And guess what? We've never discussed that blog. HA. I win.
Once I farted on my roommate's pillow when she wasn't home. She totally deserved it, I swear.
When I was in middle school my older sister gave me this really sweet card and then one day I was mad at her because she would let me hang out with her and her friends or borrow her clothes or something else that was obviously a huge deal so I ripped the card up right in front of her face. (I felt really really horrible about it immediately afterward and my sister ended up taping the card back together.)
One time Keith and I were in a fight so I said "there's dinner in the microwave" but then I ate what I left for him and if he asked me about it I was going to tell him I threw it down the hill in his back yard because I didn't want him to know I ate 6 salmon quesadillas out of anger.
I'm really good at stomping my feet and slamming things. Lots and lots and lots of stomping and slamming things. Doors, drawers, cupboards... one time I even succeeded in slamming a shower curtain. THAT'S how mature mad I was.

Another time I got mad at my hairbrush because I was trying to put my hair in a slicked back ponytail WITH NO BUMPS but I was failing and it was obviously the brush's fault so I slammed it against the counter and it broke in half.
On more than one occasion when somebody who may or may not have been my employer, I got sick of his attitude and when he asked me for coffee I gave him decaf and when he asked me to refill his water bottle I gave him tap instead of filtered. I totally showed him.

When I was little I was wearing roller blades in the house (not allowed) and my brother locked me out of his room so I kicked the door and put a hoe in it. That hole was there for like 15 years at least.

That's all. We're getting too honest now.