celebrities, modern problems, music, rock stars

Many people are MAD at Miranda Lambert… but I’m not!

Ahhh… it’s Thursday, and that means it’s vacuum day. Gotta hate that. But, at least this week, I don’t have to deal with barefoot handymen chillaxing in my backyard while listening to shitty German techno music, right? ūüėČ

This shit makes me want to amputate my ears! It drives me crazy! But far be it for me to complain about being forced to listen to this for hours in my own home.

Bill spoke to the landlord yesterday and explained what happened. I think the landlord was kind of prepared to defend the handymen, until Bill showed him the photos of them with their feet up on my chairs. To his credit, he realized that behavior was very obnoxious and unprofessional. I doubt he’ll do anything about it, but it feels good to make the complaint, anyway. It’s not just me being difficult. Those guys were disrespectful and rude.

Bill also explained why we want the front door closed when Noyzi is present. He said the landlord’s eyes widened when he saw the photos of the men’s feet propped up on my chairs. To our ex landlady’s credit, I’m sure if it had been her house, she would have gone absolutely ballistic and told those guys off as she demanded a credit for their loafing. Our current landlord is a lot calmer. Anyway, the landlord gave Bill a big sack of tomatoes he’d grown in his backyard, and there’s no hard feelings.

So, all’s well that ends well on that chapter of life in Germany. Now, on to the next topic…

Country star Miranda Lambert is currently in the news. Evidently, she got upset when she was performing at a recent concert in Las Vegas, because some women were taking selfies. She stopped the song and called them out for being rude and “pissing her off”.

Yes, folks. It is very RUDE to take selfies when someone is trying to perform.

I’ve seen a lot of comments about this. It seems like the general consensus is that Miranda shouldn’t have been “pissed”, nor should she have stopped the show. Some people apparently tore up their tickets. Others left the show and swore they were “done” with Miranda. I’m pretty puzzled by this reaction. You came to see an artist perform and listen to the music. Why be on your phone, even if it’s just to take selfies?

I guess I’m in the minority… or maybe I’m not in the minority, but I’m one of the few who is on Miranda’s side. I think she had every right to ask those women to stop taking selfies during her performance. If asking them not to be so inconsiderate means they aren’t fans anymore, so much the better.

I am myself a singer. No, I don’t entertain on the level that Miranda does, but I have experienced singing on stage in front of a crowd. It’s distracting when people are doing things like taking selfies during a performance. Moreover, while those women paid to be at the show, so did everyone else in the audience. Being on your phone, standing up and laughing, yelling and moving around while the artist is singing– especially when it’s a slow song– is just very rude, self-centered behavior that takes away from everyone’s experience. I don’t care how much someone paid for their tickets. It doesn’t entitle them to act like that.

Although I don’t follow Miranda Lambert’s career, I have heard her sing, and she has a very nice voice. There’s no doubt she’s talented. I’m sure she puts a lot into planning her concerts and I know she puts a lot into her performances. I have no doubt that it’s frustrating when people act like their photos and videos are more important than the reason for the event. She was right to speak up about it, even if it appears that a lot of people think Miranda should be “grateful” that people pay for tickets to her shows.

I think about years ago, when cell phones weren’t as ubiquitous as they are today. Bill and I were at a military concert at what was then Mary Washington College, in Fredericksburg, Virginia (It’s now the University of Mary Washington). There we were, listening to this beautiful rendition of a piece by Mussorgsky, when someone’s phone rang. I’ll never forget the conductor’s body language. It was one of disgust. He and his band had worked so hard to prepare the program, only to have it interrupted by someone’s ringing phone.

While Miranda Lambert’s shows don’t feature classical music, she is still a performer on a stage. It’s not easy to do what she does. If it was easy, a lot more people would be singers. I think the behavior of those selfie taking women was tacky and thoughtless, and I offer kudos to Miranda Lambert for calling it out for what it is. Just my opinion, folks. If you want to be on your phone, stay home and listen to the album. Spare the rest of us your boorish behavior.

Generally speaking, I much prefer attending concerts in Germany. I have found that German audiences are a lot more respectful than American audiences are, even though people are allowed to drink as much beer as they want to, and at much more reasonable prices. The one exception was when we saw Mark Knopfler in Leipzig. The woman in front of me climbed up on her chair in her bare feet and started dancing. Not only could I not see through her, but I worried she might fall and land on top of me. But she was the only person I remember acting like a complete fool… and only a few others have acted like partial fools during shows. Germans seem to have had better home training than some of my countrymen have.

I don’t think Miranda Lambert is the only performer who finds the constant obsession with cell phones and selfies during concerts offensive. I seem to remember hearing other performers speak out about it. Bill and I saw the Eagles in Cologne, back in 2019, and there was a lengthy announcement at the beginning of the show about cell phone etiquette. I was surprised they even allowed phones into the venue, knowing how protective they are of their music. That show, by the way, was one of the best I’ve ever been to. I had fifth row seats, and everyone behaved themselves, so I could see and hear the concert well. The end result was that we had a really good time.

Miranda Lambert doesn’t owe anyone the right to act stupid and rude during her shows. Most of us are adults, and we learned in elementary school how to behave in public places. Yes, performers are able to do their jobs because they have fans who support them, but that doesn’t mean that they should be expected to accept rude behavior. What those women were doing was affecting everyone around them, not just Miranda herself. So, I’m on “Team Miranda” for this one.

Well, I guess I’ll close this post and get on with the day. I’ve got a dog to walk, guitar to practice, and floors to vacuum. Enjoy your Thursday!

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communication, complaints, home, music, rants

I think Kate Bush sang it best, back in 1982…

Good afternoon, ladies and germs… Today, on this Wednesday, and the third day my house has been occupied by inconsiderate clods, I have an old Kate Bush song in mind. It’s a song from her brilliant 1982 album, The Dreaming, which also happens to be the very first album I ever heard her do. The song, quite appropriately for my mood today, is called “Get Out of My House”.

Here are the lyrics…

When you left, the door was
(slamming)
You paused in the doorway
(slamming)
As though a thought stole you away
(slamming)
I watched the world pull you away
(Lock it) So I run into the hall
(Lock it)
Into the corridor
(Lock it)
There’s a door in the house
(slamming)
I hear the lift descending
(slamming)
I hear it hit the landing
(slamming)
See the hackles on the cat
(standing) With my key I
(lock it)
With my key I
(lock it up)
With my key I
(lock it)
With my key I
(lock it up) I am the concierge chez-moi, honey
Won’t let ya in for love, nor money
(“Let me in!”)
My home, my joy
I’m barred and bolted and I
(Won’t let you in)
(Get out of my house!) No stranger’s feet
Will enter me
(Get out of my house!)
I wash the panes
(Get out of my house!)
I clean the stains away
(Get out of my house!) This house is as old as I am
(Slamming)
This house knows all I have done
(Slamming)
They come with their weather hanging ’round them
(Slamming)
But can’t knock my door down
(Slamming) With my key I
(lock it)
With my key I
(lock it) This house is full of m-m-my mess
(Slamming)
This house is full of m-m-mistakes
(Slamming)
This house is full of m-m-madness
(Slamming)
This house is full of, full of, full of fight
(Slam it) With my keeper I
(clean up)
With my keeper I
(clean it all up)
With my keeper I
(clean up)
With my keeper I
(clean it all up) I am the concierge chez-moi, honey
Won’t letcha in for love, nor money
(“It’s cold out here!”)
My home, my joy
I’m barred and bolted and I
(Get out of my house!)
(Won’t let you in) No stranger’s feet
(Get out of my house!)
Will enter me
(Get out of my house!)
I wash the panes
(Get out of my house!)
I clean the stains
(Get out of my house!)
(Get out of my house!)
(Get out of my house!)
(Get out of my house!)
Won’t enter me
(Get out of my house!)
(Get out of my house!)
(Get out of my house!)
(Get out of my house!)
Yeah! Won’t let you in
(Get out of my house!)
(Get out of my house!)
“Let me in!”
“Woman let me in!
Let me bring in the memories!
Woman let me in!
Let me bring in the Devil Dreams!
“I will not let you in!
Don’t you bring back the reveries
I turn into a bird
Carry further than the word is heard
“Woman let me in!
I turn into the wind.
I blow you a cold kiss,
Stronger than the song’s hit.
“I will not let you in
I face towards the wind
I change into the Mule
“I change into the Mule.”

God, I love her. She is amazing.

I know not everyone appreciates Kate Bush. I think she’s an incredible singer, songwriter, piano player, and all around goddess. I’ve loved her music for about 40 years– that is, since I was ten years old. Kate Bush is pretty intense for a ten year old, but even back then, I loved how creative and gorgeous her music was, and how interesting and intelligent the lyrics were. “Get Out of My House” even incorporates a mule, complete with braying, which as a former horse girl, I can totally get behind.

I’ve read that this song is really not about a literal house. Instead, she’s referring to her psyche– not letting anyone in to get to know her, or what’s deep inside of her soul. She is the master of herself, and she won’t let anyone in “for love nor money”. She protects her heart and her mind by becoming very stubborn, like a mule, complete with “hee haws”. She keeps everything under lock and key.

Well, I’m not as much like that with my psyche or, at least this week, with my house. Yes, it’s a rental, and yes, as I’ve pointed out, the work being done this week is for our own good. And I have seen a little bit of progress. For instance, the two workmen have stopped habitually leaving the front door open, and they have turned down their god awful dance music, so my head doesn’t pound incessantly.

However, the two guys who have been here all week have really been annoying me. Every day, they make messes that they don’t clean up. They move my stuff and just leave it wherever they put it. Yesterday, they left chocolate on the floor where Noyzi could get to it. I think my landlord brought it over for them with the customary German coffee break, but they just left it on the steps. Fortunately, Noyzi doesn’t eat things he hasn’t been invited to eat. If Arran were still here, we’d really have a problem. He would have eaten that chocolate in a heartbeat. Chocolate can be very toxic to dogs.

This morning, the guy didn’t even ring the doorbell before he came barging into the house. I mean, where I come from, if you don’t live in a house, you don’t just come in without at least knocking. At least not the first time you show up during the day. It’s common courtesy and basic manners. Tomorrow, I won’t be deactivating the door lock before they arrive. They can ring the fucking doorbell like civilized people. I may be a tenant, but this is still my home.

And, sorry, I know this is going to sound really petty and kind of mean, but right now they are outside at my freshly oiled teak patio table, sitting on the chairs with new cushions on them, eating lunch, while listening to their industrial powered radio. Much to my shame, when I saw that, it really pissed me off. I wish I were a more laid back, less territorial person, but I can’t deny that I feel like telling them to get off my patio and get back to work, so they can finish up and get the fuck out of my house. It’s an irrational response, I know… but it’s the one I’m honestly experiencing right now.

It’s not so much that I mind them using the patio or even the table and chairs. It’s the fact that they didn’t even ask, and they have no regard for the fact that they have invaded my home, and are messing with my things. I can’t speak to them, because we don’t speak the same language. I didn’t hire them, and have nothing to do with their employment, other than the fact that I live in this house and they have invaded it, as they take their long coffee breaks. I’m sure it never even occurred to them how annoying they are to me, nor would they even really care. But they can have lunch on my table and chairs without so much as a “do you mind?”. Earlier this week, they ate in their van.

The two guys reek of pheromones, inconsideration, and sexism, and I want them OUT of my life. I feel like I used to feel when I waited tables and was forced to be nice to people who were assholes. But this time, I’m not working for anyone. I just have the misfortune of being a tenant.

And y’all, before anyone leaves me a lecturing or shaming comment (cuz it’s happened before), bear in mind that I do have some idea of how difficult it is to do this kind of work, especially when it’s hot outside. I do have some empathy for that. I wish I were a more compassionate person than I am. I guess it comes from being treated with little consideration for most of my life and, in turn, not necessarily being taught to be considerate myself.

Yes, that’s right. I kind of had to learn from people other than my family to have regard for others. But even when I try to be hospitable, it comes off as kind of awkward and weird. Usually, people don’t accept, anyway. At my age, I figure I might as well be real. And I want these dudes to finish their job and just beat it. Get the fuck out of my house! NOW!

Just one more day… just one more day. Hopefully, I won’t emulate Marguerite Perrin before tomorrow…

“Get the hell out of my house in Jesus’ name I pray!

I’m getting really close, y’all.

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complaints, condescending twatbags, funny stories, memories, rants

Repost: Here’s your mac n’ cheese, lady… now GTFO of my life!

Hey everyone. It’s a little after 8 AM, and I’ve got just the dashiest dash of writer’s block. Something profound may come to me soon, but I think I’m more in the mood to make music today. I was looking at my Facebook memories, and I came upon a post from 2017 by Bitchy Waiter. It was about entitled people who feel like they can order stuff that isn’t on the menu, then get pissed and write shitty reviews when the restaurant says they can’t make it for them.

In the comment section of that post, I shared with Alex an article I wrote for my original OH blog. It was titled “Cheese eating bitches”, but I’ve retitled it for this blog, so I can get the green SEO score and avoid cussing in the subject line. I know that some people are turned off by curse words right off the bat. ūüėČ

I know not everyone likes the reposts, but sometimes they do pay off… Besides, I want to preserve some of them for posterity. So, here’s “Cheese eating bitches”, which originally appeared on my blog on July 23, 2016. The featured photo is of mac n’ cheese I ordered for myself at a different, more child friendly restaurant, years later. Hope you enjoy it…

This morning, I was reminded of a horrible incident that occurred 18 (now 25 years ago) years ago when I was waiting tables. I was out on the terrace at dinnertime. It was a hot, sunny, late afternoon. That meant the terrace was going to be hopping and I knew I would probably be running around like a chicken with my head cut off for many hours.

At the restaurant where I worked, there was no children’s menu.  The chefs would make accommodations for kids, but only if they were asked ahead of time.  That meant that even though they would make a grilled cheese sandwich (which wasn’t on the menu), we had to ask them before we put in the order.  If you didn’t ask, you ran the risk of being chewed out by the kitchen staff or not getting your order.  For those working on the terrace, asking about special requests took extra time because the kitchen was literally the equivalent of a block away.

I was out there on the terrace with two colleagues.  One colleague, who is probably now a physician somewhere, because I remember he was planning to go to medical school, was an overly helpful type of person.  He was eager to please diners, sometimes to his own and other servers’ detriment.  Now that I think about it, maybe he’s yet another reason why I dislike doctors so much.  But, I digress… 

A couple came up with their two small kids and asked if there was a children’s menu.  The hostess politely told them we didn’t have one.  They were about to walk away and find a more suitable restaurant.  But then, the overly helpful guy said, “We do have grilled cheese sandwiches.”  Now, when he said this, I inwardly groaned to myself because I knew that if they came back and sat down, they would be requesting special items for their kids.  Looking at them, I could tell they were strongly considering returning.

It’s not that I don’t like kids, by the way.  Kids should go out to restaurants, because that’s the best way they can learn how to behave in one when they’re older.  And I agree, it would have been a lot easier for us wait staff had the restaurant owners simply offered a children’s menu, so people could more easily feed their special snowflakes.

However, one of the owners was a somewhat famous cookbook author and TV chef, and he wanted his place to be upscale and adult oriented. The owners didn’t want to encourage people to bring their children to the restaurant, even though it was located in the heart of Williamsburg, Virginia, where scores of kids come through, needing to be fed. The restaurant owners’ rules made it difficult for wait staff to appeal to people with kids with simple palates, or picky adults who weren’t used to such high falutin’ dishes. Believe me, I sympathized with the picky folks. I was/am one myself.

It wasn’t just catering to kids that was fraught with difficulty at this place. Servers were frequently put in the position of not being helpful to guests. We were forced to charge people for Parmesan cheese, for instance. Many guests thought it was unreasonable to be charged for what seemed like a simple condiment. They didn’t realize that the cheese was actually off of a wheel from Parma, Italy, and not coming from a green can made by Kraft. They’d get pissed off at us, but we were just following the rules set by our employers. There was really nothing we could do, especially since we had to get the Parmesan cheese from the chef, rather than dry goods storage.

Anyway, sure enough, the family came back, and they were seated in my section. The lady immediately ordered a grilled cheese sandwich, not realizing that I was going to have to ask the chef’s permission. She also asked for macaroni and cheese, which I had to tell her that we didn’t have. She then requested plain pasta for her daughter. Now… I know many people think it’s a simple thing to get plain pasta, but this particular restaurant made its own pasta fresh. A lot of times, the pasta was pre-mixed with other ingredients ahead of time. Because of that, I could not guarantee there would be plain pasta available on any given evening. I told the mom I’d have to ask the chef if any plain pasta was available that night. She said not to bother and her other kid could just eat the grilled cheese too. So I went back and got permission to serve the grilled cheese sandwiches and all was well.

Things were going okay until the dude who had been so helpful passed us with a bowl of plain pasta.  The lady saw it and fixed a hateful gaze upon me.  On that particular night, there had been plain pasta available.  The mom went absolutely ballistic and screamed at me in the middle of the terrace.  I don’t remember all that she said as much as I remember her unreasonable rage and the sheer hatred in her tone of voice as she screeched, “My daughter can’t have plain pasta!”, as if I had deliberately screwed her out of what her daughter had set her heart upon for dinner.  

Since I was a mere server, there was nothing I could do but simply take the abuse and get stiffed on the tip.  I suppose that when I asked about the grilled cheese, I could have asked if any plain pasta was available, even though the lady had said to forget about it.  But when you are fighting the weeds all evening, little details like that can get lost in the shuffle.  And besides, she had said her daughter could eat grilled cheese.  From what I could tell, the kid did enjoy the sandwich just fine and hadn’t been complaining about it. 

After she screamed at me in front of everyone and left me tipless, she, her husband, and the two kids mercifully exited my life.  I was left there feeling shell-shocked, and I was furious at the other waiter who had inadvertently put me in that position.  To make matters worse, the next table in my section was a group of folks who were really looking for a Cracker Barrel.  They, too, stiffed me, although I don’t think it was because they were upset about the food or the service.   

At the next lineup, I made a point of bringing up how servers should not be advertising anything that isn’t listed on the menu. If we have to ask permission to sell something, no one should be offering it to the public beforehand, exactly because of the situation I found myself in on that night. And I also told my colleague that the next time that happened, he was going to be dealing with it. The chefs agreed.

I’m not proud of it, but I am a person who holds grudges.  I still have murderous thoughts about that woman, even though I realize her once small cheese eating kids are now adults.  Fortunately, it’s not often that I think about that particular incident anymore.   

Even when I was half crazy with depression and anxiety, it would never occur to me to explode on someone the way she did to me that day.  As someone who has struggled with “issues”, I can understand on an objective level that the woman was probably hot, tired, and “over it” that day.  I just happened to be the unlucky person caught in the crossfire of her wrath.  As someone with “issues”, I confess that I still fervently wished a flat tire (or worse) for her on her drive home.  

But yeah… eighteen (25) years later, I still think of that raving bitch and have evil thoughts.  Please pass the voodoo doll.

Macaroni and cheese eating bitch, this is for YOU!

Thank God I’m out of the restaurant business.

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lessons learned, poor judgment

Repost: Ye olde surprise visit…

I’m still debating on what today’s fresh post will be about, so here’s another blast from the past. This post appeared on my original blog on March 9, 2014.

It’s rude to just show up at someone’s home, uninvited.  This was a lesson I didn’t necessarily learn as a child.  When I lived in a suburban neighborhood, it wasn’t uncommon for me to go next door and ask a friend if he or she was available to play.  When I lived in Armenia, I had a friend whose home I used to visit unannounced.  I had sort of an excuse in Armenia, though, since, at the time, the phones were mostly useless there.  I still cringe when I think about it, though.  Dropping in on people seems very rude to me now, and I don’t do it unless I am absolutely positive I won’t offend, even if someone tells me I have a standing invitation.

My husband’s ex wife does not share my reluctance to drop over unannounced.  In fact, “ye olde surprise visit”, as Bill calls it, is one of her many tricks.  She generally does it to people who are “nice”, especially if they care about her kids.  It’s mostly relatives that get the “pleasure” of a surprise visit. She’ll just pack up the kids and go, showing up on their doorstep.  She’s done it to Bill’s parents many times.  It never seems to occur to her that they might have other plans, or they might not be feeling well.  Or maybe they just want peace and quiet.

Ye olde surprise visitors… they don’t need an engraved invitation!

Bill’s family would never turn Ex away, even after the divorce.  They wanted to see their grandchildren.  Ex was well aware of that fact and exploited it to the hilt.  She knew the kids were her ticket to the family circle, even though by the time she and Bill had split up, most of the family couldn’t stand her.  She’d always be armed with them when she’d come by, looking for food, lodging, and information.  

I’m sure that if Ex had less assertive friends, she would have done the same thing to them.  On the surface, it seems like a friendly visit, even if it’s inconvenient.  Look deeper, though, and you soon realize it’s disrespectful.  Let’s look at what happens when someone like Ex pops by with the kids.  She rings the bell, startling Bill’s dad and stepmom, who may have been lingering over coffee, trying to decide what to do with their day.

They open the door. ¬†There’s Ex. ¬†She’s driven in from several states away. ¬†She has the kids with her. ¬†They look tired and hungry. ¬†It’s a kind and Christlike thing to do to invite them in, even if they had other plans. ¬†And putting up with Ex is a small price to pay, since it’s been awhile since the grandkids were last allowed over. ¬†They let her in and she proceeds to park herself at their computer and let the kids run amok in their home. ¬†They make lunch, which Ex determines isn’t to her liking. ¬†Then Ex feels free to opine about how she thinks the in-laws’ Catholic beliefs are bullshit and Mormonism is the only true path to God. ¬†She spends a couple of days in their home, leaving them exhausted and bewildered in her wake.

Now, if Ex had been some stranger, the in-laws probably would have felt free to ask her to leave. ¬†But she’s my husband’s ex wife. ¬†She’s pulled “ye olde surprise visit” many times, especially when she was Bill’s wife. ¬†It’s never occurred to her that there are new boundaries, now that they’re divorced. ¬†And the in-laws were always loathe to try to enforce them, since they knew she’d hold the kids over their heads. ¬†Consequently, they got the surprise visit several times, even after the divorce. ¬†The element of surprise makes it less likely that the forced visit will be rebuffed. ¬†She shows up looking tired and hungry and, being nice, compassionate people, they take her in‚Ķ and she takes advantage of their kindness.

I use Ex as the example in this post, but this type of thing happens pretty often in certain communities.  While hanging out on RfM, I’ve read many accounts of people getting unexpected drop by visits from church people.  Hell, it happens frequently in my neighborhood, as church people go door to door, knocking and ringing doorbells on Sundays or evenings.  They think they’re “sharing a message”, but they’re really more likely interrupting someone’s peace.  The element of surprise puts the victim at a disadvantage and manipulative types are quick to capitalize on that.

This isn’t to say that a drop in visit isn’t sometimes welcomed.  Sometimes it’s a pleasant surprise when an old friend or family member happens to be in the neighborhood and comes by unannounced.  Certain people can get away with it at any time.  I would never turn away my mother or mother-in-law, for instance‚Ķ not that either of them would ever dream of showing up uninvited.  Perhaps that’s WHY I wouldn’t turn them away, besides the fact that one of them gave birth to me and the other gave birth to Bill.   

It can be hard to deal with someone who just drops in, especially when you are a nice person and don’t want to hurt another person’s feelings.  However, for your own good, it’s probably best to tactfully but firmly explain to the interloper that you need them to call before they show up.  A true friend will understand why they need to call, but will certainly not begrudge you your privacy if you tell them their unexpected visits are causing distress.  Someone who doesn’t care about you or have respect for your feelings will be deeply offended if you remind them that the courteous thing to do is call first before popping by.

This post, of course, doesn’t apply to surprise homecomings! 

This mom is obviously delighted by a surprise visit.

And here are a couple of comments left on the original post.

I think when i have kids, my kids will always be welcome with or without notice, as will their spouses and kids. The same will not apply to their exes. They could drop the kids off in many instances, but i wouldn’t want the ex there. it would be disrespectful to my child.

I would understand if other people didn’t feel the same and wanted notice even from their children. that’s just the way I think I will feel.

My mom and her best friend have an agreement that they can show up on each other’s doorsteps unnannounced, yet they never actually do it. Weird.

I do think it’s rude.

My mom’s best friend has been dealing with the Mormons for abut 10 years, since they found her after her last move, which was about 21 years ago. (She converted when she was eleven.)They show up without calling about once every three months. She NEVER answers the door to anyone when she doesn’t know in advance. (Her house is messy unless she’s expecting company, in which case she straightens it.. I believe she cleans her kitchen and bathrooms on a regular basis, but things are not picked up and straightened unless she’s expecting someone.) i don’t agree with her housekeeping habits, but it’s her house and she has every right to maintain it however she wants. I appreciate the fact that it’s always clean and neat when I’m there.I would never guess that it’s not always that way except she tells me so and she would have no reason to lie. Anyway, she never opens the door for the Mormons because she doesn’t know they’re coming. Maybe she wouldn’t open the door anyway. But regardless, it’s rude to show up without an invitation or without at least calling first.ReplyReplies

  1. knottyMarch 9, 2014 at 10:01 PMI think Ex was entitled and thought of herself as “family”, even after the divorce. She even told Bill that they’d always be family, despite their divorce. Nice that she treats him like family by getting his kids to disown him.

    I was not happy with my in-laws for aiding and abetting her nonsense, but it’s their house and they are adults. However, I don’t have to take part in the bullshit.  

    I think for Ex, showing up as a surprise is sort of a manipulative power ploy. She does it to get people off guard. What can they do? If they say no, she makes them feel like shit. If they say yes, she comes in and takes over. It’s a no win situation.
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