Have Yourself A Creepy Little Christmas Ugly Sweater Party

So I did what any sane person would do, just parked myself there and sipped my mimosa watching her lose her shit and occasionally look up at me and shake her fist. Friend came back with husband and he peeked over to see her pacing like a damn hyena in front of the Have Yourself A Creepy Little Christmas Ugly Sweater Party. Since people would be arriving soon they worried she would force her way in with others. I posted on the Facebook group a quick rundown on what was happening, so people knew what they were possibly walking into. MIL then had a brilliant idea. She buzzed ALL of the other apartments, hoping someone might let her in, while she continued to call out for her son who at this point was hiding on the roof drinking straight out of the bottle of champagne. Someone let the bitch in. She charged into the building and at this point friend’s husband whipped out his phone and dialed 911. He said and I quote “My unstable mother I haven’t spoken to in 2 years traveled across the country and showed up at my apartment screaming. She just broke in to the building and we are scared she is a danger to us and herself. We live XXX.” I’m pretty sure by the time this “I have bad knees and a thyroid problem” lady made it up the stairs to the 4th floor the cops were rolling up.

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Have Yourself A Creepy Little Christmas Ugly Sweater Party,

Best Have Yourself A Creepy Little Christmas Ugly Sweater Party

When I’d go outside for any other reason, one or two of Have Yourself A Creepy Little Christmas Ugly Sweater Party would be waiting for me. They’d scream at me, then stalk me from the flanks anywhere I went, like a pack of wolves on a bleeding, exhausted elk. Bringing Dash with me made them keep their distance a bit. The bad weather almost made it easier too, it was so cold and windy it was almost as abrasive as their presence. Honestly, with most of it inside just hangin with Sash, the days weren’t all that bad. The nights, well… were the worst part. Between sunset and bed I’d hear them ranting in manic whispers on the porch when I was in the kitchen, see em sprint by a window, or just stand in the snowy yard barely outside the arc of glow from the porch lights, staring venomously into the house. On the 26th I went out to get a charger from Sash’s car, with Dash and my spotlight, expecting a run-in. It was dumping snow. Windless, the slow deluge of huge snowflakes amidst the ear-ringing silence was haunting on its own. I got to the car without spotting any of em. I grabbed the charger, turned around, and froze as a flashflood of adrenaline crashed into my face and hands. Bridger. He was standing on the tailgate of my truck, about 20 feet away, looking down on me with his arms crossed. He was standing between me and the light outside the door to the shop, haloed by the glow and illuminated snowflakes, lookin like some fuckin demon prince in a volcanic ash storm. I bowed my head to him and yelled for Dash. I didn’t take my eyes off him until I was back inside the fence, pushing the gate through the fresh snow to shut it behind the dog. When I looked back from the front porch, he was gone. Around the 27th they’d started hanging out below the bedroom and yelping, whooping, wailing out of nowhere. It got more aggressive and frequent as the nights went on. By the night of the 29th, one had started hanging out on the roof, randomly sprinting the length of the house, as the others would shriek, jibber and moan out in the frozen night, pound on the siding of the house. We had a fan that dulled some of the noise, and I’d started sleeping with earplugs, but it was hard to catch more than 2-4 hours of sleep a night.

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I just wanted to give you a Have Yourself A Creepy Little Christmas Ugly Sweater Party of support. I 100% agree with all of your “dated” examples and I’m not a particularly stylish individual, I lived in the Midwest for the last decade until 2022. If anyone is offended by your examples I have to say, sorry but those are all things I’ve seen done to absolute death for like the last 10 years in Nebraska so if you are reading this thinking, “by golly how dare OP, all my dresses are fit an flare!” It’s not OP, it’s you. You also make some excellent observations about frumpy. Frumpy for me is fit and intentionality. Fit is an overwhelming factor but intentionality is a big part of it too. For me, I will say that I am very minimalist stylewise, but attention to accessories and fit and drape carry my like “mono-tone beige outfits.” Treat stains right away, hanging clothes right away so they aren’t wrinkled, snip those run away threads and replace those buttons – all that makes a huge difference even when what you are wearing is unremarkable and bland. Clean cut is perfectly acceptable, frumpiness to me has an air of like… lack in care, attention and maintenance in all things, not just the specific style elements of an outfit.