Misophonia – It’s a “thing”, y’all. Look it up.

It happens against my will. It’s almost as if I get possessed. One minute I’m fine…the next I’m shooting daggers out of my eyes.

Usually, the first thing that I notice is people chewing their food noisily. At first, I’m able to control my twitchy eye. Breathing exercises work great. After that fails, though…all bets are off.

I drop little hints to those around me starting with that stare with the squinky eye. (Dear spellcheck…squinky IS a word…because I just made it up.) The offender usually senses this look…stops chewing for a moment, then says something like, “What?” to which I respond, “Oh…nothing…” hoping they get the hint. When that fails I go a little bit more passive-aggressive-aggressive.

Do those Funyuns taste good?!

I’m usually met with, “They sure do, want some?” I respectfully decline.

It will typically escalate from there. Here are ways that I will attempt to drown out or get them to stop:

  1. Turn on my music at my desk or turn on the TV.
  2. When that doesn’t work, I’ll turn up the volume so that I drown out that god-forsaken sound from my head.
  3. I remind myself that I love the person making this goddamned noise and sometimes that works…most of the time it does not.
  4. Slamming of dishes ensues.
  5. I will literally throw a fork onto my plate causing a scene making everyone nervous and occasionally they will leave the room.
  6. Heavy sighs work the best, I’ve found. And if you accompany the squinky eye and the stare-down, the offender knows you mean business.
  7. The final straw comes when I have had enough. Usually directed at my poor sweet husband or my BFF who both love me unconditionally and are the worst offenders. These two people love me DISPITE my shortcomings and weird quirks. I typically lose it completely.

The conversation will begin with the look. And my reactions exponentially get ballsy-er from there:

  • Blank stare while simultaneously freezing in place causing a silence in my general direction that is immediately noticed and the sense of being watched rather intensely is completely palpable.
  • They look in my direction, usually freezing in mid-chew. Let’s not forget, these people know me. They know exactly what this look means.
  • They say, “What?” – I say, “I’m literally going to stab you and to go prison if you don’t figure out how to chew more softly.” They say, “I’m just eating.” – I say, “Fine! YOU EAT AND I’LL GO LOOK FOR A KNIFE!”
  • They say, “You need to calm down.” – I say, “What would you like on your headstone? ‘Here lies Mr. Sassy, his wife murdered him because he wouldn’t chew softly and she fucking had had enough, already.'”*

In the end, I make my point. And a few days later, I feel really bad that I went so nutso about it – but SERIOUSLY.

* Don’t you fucking love it when you get to use “had had” in a sentence?! I do. Especially if it ends up on a head stone.



Love is Love, Sassyland.

Ah yes, the subject that can either bond us as eternal equality seekers with a shared belief that people are free to love who they want, or tear us apart, causing a divide in our relationship. I’ll never turn my back on you, so it’ll have to be you that makes the move.

I’m comfortable within my own skin to share with you my thoughts on this subject without fear of retaliation or vicious backlash, because if you simply are so disturbed by what I’m about to write, my suggestion would be to please read this post in its entirety before you unfollow my blog, if that’s what you choose to do. I respect your decision and I’m in no way trying to get anyone to change their views on homosexuality and the LGBTQ community – but I am going to ensure that my voice is heard and that you know where I stand on this “issue” that shouldn’t really be an issue at all.

Love is Love. This is what I believe down to my core. The human race is a very emotional species and we require love to flourish in all ways possible. Whether it be love for your fellow man, for the earth, for a Twinkie, for a religion, for a nice cool alcoholic beverage…whatever it is, love is at the core of all we do.

Kindness and graciousness are forms of love. Judgement is not. Tolerance and acceptance is a form of love. Hatred and bullying are not. Now – if you are a regular reader of this blog, you’re probably yelling at your handheld device or computer monitor right now: SASSY! OMFG, YOU ARE SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO JUDGY AND DOWNRIGHT RUDE SOMETIMES, HOW CAN YOU TYPE THAT STUFF?!?!?! Give me a minute…I’ll try to articulate it.

I went to a church service last night which was a Christian gathering of people there to “Celebrate Recovery” and to support the wife of a friend who was going to share her journey to recovery. I had never gone to this church before nor participated in a “Celebrate Recovery” service. So to explain “Celebrate Recovery” to you, your “recovery” can be a myriad of things from; drug addiction, abuse, food addiction, self doubt, struggling with forgiveness, trust issues…so many more things were discussed last night, but the one that almost made me walk out of there was from a man that had been part of the worship team, in front of the gathering, singing worship songs, leading us in prayer…when it came time for him to share with us some updates for the church and before he discussed his talking points, he introduced himself and shared his recovery “category” if you will…(example: Hi, I’m Sassy and I’m recovering from using profanity and working through my Hostess Berry Pie addiction.)

His recovery item was a Recovery From Homosexuality.

This saddened me. I am not a theologian and I am NOT a frequent church goer – but I do consider myself a Christian – in training, because aren’t we all (?) and have accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior – just like Beyoncé. I think the word “from” in his statement concerned me the most. From. To take away from…to take away his homosexuality. Is this what I’m to understand he is trying to accomplish?

From my understanding – you cannot “recover” from Homosexuality no more than you can recover from being a Human Being. I was finding it extremely hard to get past this and clear my head enough to experience completely the story my friends wife shared. I was able to listen to her very touching account of the struggles she had faced growing up, in her 20’s and her marriage and was very impressed because I know how utterly accepting and gracious a person she is and to now know what she has gone through in her life and how for her, God has helped her through many trials and tribulations made me so happy for her journey – but…if I’m honest, that kids voice kept echoing in my head the whole time and my heart sunk in my chest a little bit.

But getting back to this recovery from homosexuality…I guess I’m just worried about this young man’s well-being. Stifling who you are for acceptance – seeking forgiveness and peace for something that you are so hard-wired to be, seems almost abusive in some way. I don’t really know how to articulate what I’m feeling. I do know that his journey is his alone. And you have to believe in SOMETHING…even if it’s nothing. For him, God is helping him understand himself. Perhaps I should have spoken to him after the service to truly understand what he meant. I don’t know.

I feel that God is the only judge that matters and for those that are Christian believers and should be following the bible (yes…there’s that whole passage about a man lying with a man and it being an abomination in Leviticus)…but there are also parts where it says that God is the only true judge.

James 4:12 There is only one Lawgiver and Judge, the one who is able to save and destroy. But you–who are you to judge your neighbor?

I believe that the God I love and worship in my own way, forgives when you ask to be forgiven, but living the truth of who you genuinely are and doing so with compassion when necessary, giving and asking for forgiveness when necessary, showing love and acceptance for those around you and giving respect to those that need and deserve it are things that we will ultimately be judged for…not by any human walking the earth, but by God, Himself.

I feel so flip-floppy with this post, because I realize this Blog is filled with me passing judgment in a satirical and profane way – which is something that it will ALWAYS have – but at the same time, those who know me know that I am extreeeeeeemely accepting of people – except the assholes – and truly – down to my TOES want people just to be happy. Gloriously drunk with JOY, is my wish for people of all kinds, shapes, colors…just happy-ness. And to feel loved, by me. I’m a pretty mushy bitch, y’all. Seriously.

Anyway – this was weighing on my heart and I needed to share it. And don’t you dare think for even one split second, that I am one of those groups of people that give Christian’s a bad name – because this is the sort of sign I’d be holding if I saw a group of these poor excuse for human beings anywhere in my vicinity:

I'd be the dude in the hat...only more girly and probably with a barrette in my hair or something.

I’d be the dude in the hat…only more girly and probably with a barrette in my hair or something.


I always get nervous when you people follow me…

You guys…I’m freaking out.

There are times when this blog gets more attention than others and apparently today is the day because I just picked up two new follows and I’m not really sure if you understand this blog enough to follow me…

Seriously though...low standards?

Seriously though…low standards?

HAVE YOU READ ANY OF THIS STUFF?! I mean…I drop F-bombs like I drop the ellipses…frequently…with ABANDON and…well…quite frankly, you’ve got me worried.

And another thing…if you think you are stumbling upon some “writer” that can form a coherent thought and can form proper sentence structure with ease…you’ve got another thing coming.

Usually the posts here are just my thoughts rattled through my fingertips with little regard for proper writing and punctuation, proper tenses…all of that crap that serious writers care so deeply about. WHICH I CAN APPRECIATE, but seriously. You followed a blog with the title “Sassypanties”. How proper can it possibly be?

Not. It’s not proper at all. Thankyouverymuch.

Oh yes, sometimes, I’ll surprise you with some heart felt mushy stuff and my sincere love for Music and hosting House Shows, but mostly it’s just my rantings about my job and how people piss me off and I’m not happy unless I add a “shit” or “motherfucker” in there for good measure. Because I can.

So…I guess you can consider this a warning or…a welcome aboard. Thanks for even considering clicking that follow button. If you choose to stay…I’ll do my best to chase you off.

P.S. You should be really proud of me because I sort of kept my profanity under wraps for the most part with this post. Pretty impressive, I must say.

P.P.S. The ellipses…dude…I told you…I use them…or should I say “mis-use” them…A LOT.

Sassyland – People Pleasing and Saying No

Hi Guys…I’ve got something to get off my chest…

I come from a long line of over-achievers. Entrepreneurs and self-starters. I have a business mind. I like that about myself. I think full-circle, I know what it takes to make something succeed. I love my job for those very reasons. I’m an apartment manager. It’s basically running your own business on behalf of someone who is taking all the risk and reaping all of the reward, which I’m fantastically happy to do. I love everything about property management. Even when these asstards don’t come in and pay their rent or give me a hard time.

For the last few months, I offered my expertise to one of my Management Company’s “Property Managers” (a “property manager” manages the Managers…so basically someone who is in the same position as my boss.) to help get his Apartment Managers on track with the way our company needs things at the property level to run. My outlook on this task is simple, bring these managers up to speed on how to run the Management System that we use, help them get organized and to help them shine and succeed, so that we can save the account which will help to save 7 properties in our company’s portfolio.

Recently, I was asked if I’d like to “lease” a few single family homes in a development that we manage for an owner. There were 4 vacancies within this community. I would only be responsible for leasing these homes – which means I’d need to market them and show them and sign the lease with the new resident. Herein lies my issue.

I’m a control freak. There…I said it.

The troubles I have with this task are both professional and personal.


  • I don’t have control of when maintenance needs to be done on these homes when the time comes for someone to move out. Vendors need to be contacted, work scheduled and there needs to be a sense of urgency to get things done so that we can get someone else in there. I have the power
  • At the time I was offered this position, it would be on top of what I’m doing already with the other properties that I’m “helping” get up to speed. I’m already taking 2-3 hours per day Tuesday – Friday to do this.
  • The properties are about 40 minutes from my house, 25 minutes from my home property, that I’m still responsible for.
  • When I said “Yes” it was with trepidation, thinking about all of the things I’d have to juggle so that I could be sure that I was still helping at my property as well as helping the other managers with their properties.


  • My nephew did a “terrible/awful” and we may or may not have some very serious things to attend in the coming months and we are sort of on-call for if/when these things occur. (yes, I’m being purposely vague…it’s too much to type and waaaaaay too much to put out there on the interwebs.)
  • My brother-in-law is a hot mess and is in horrible health and is in constant need of help, it seems.
  • My mother and father in-law are very old and sickly and both have health issues. We seem to be the only children in the family that can rush to them at a moments notice to help them or buy them groceries and a myriad of other things.

As you can see, my plate if fairly full as it is, without adding this task to the list – and I haven’t even added anything about my personal family unit.

For my sanity, after a week of answering inquiries, trying to coordinate with the person that is in charge of getting the vendors set to complete these homes so that they can be re-rented, I sent an email saying I felt that it was a good idea if I didn’t accept this job at this time.

If you knew me personally, you’d know that I have probably lost several hours of sleep the last several days obsessing about how I could possibly manage to make this work…and the thing is…I feel that it would take less energy to be in control of the whole thing – from beginning to end – than to just be the person that shows the homes and signs leases with new residents. The worrying about the unknown drives me up the wall. I guess I’d prefer and it’d be less stress for me if I had complete control than only partial and be the person hanging on a thread waiting for someone to finally tell me things are ready and have to constantly ask if things were done.



I hate saying no. I’m learning to say no more frequently and that probably comes from “being of a certain age”. Being of a certain age also helps you realize what kind of people you want in your life and what tasks you are comfortable taking on and which battles you choose to take on and which ones you need not bother with.

Having been a people pleaser for much of my 43 years has brought with it a lot of frustrations. You learn a lot about the things you let bother you and how to surround yourself with people that enrich your life rather than drain you of your will to live. You learn a lot about your own limitations and what it takes for you to be happy and to create balance. You learn a lot about what you absolutely will not compromise on. You measure the risk vs. reward and learn what true pros and cons are. Genuine-ness takes the front seat and Superficial-ness gets dropped at the curb.




Hi Sassyland: Parenting ain’t for sissies, you guys.

Y’all…there is some brutal honesty in this post…

Lately, things have been pretty tense in the house with my extremely moody teenager.

Let’s just say that I probably won’t be getting the Parent of the Year Award this year. Ya wanna know why? M’kay…

I told her, and I quote, “Get the fuck OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW!” the other night. Yeah…it wasn’t my best moment. Here’s the deal, yo…

Parenting ain’t for sissies, y’all…

These creatures that I brought into the world are beautiful, articulate, highly intelligent and downright frustrating as all hell. I knew the minute I said it I’d feel bad about it…and I did – sorta. But I’ll be honest…it took awhile for the eye rolling and the heavy sighs and the stomping around the house and the door slamming and the acting like a complete twit to bring me down to that level.

So here is what I’m going to fucking do about it:

I’m going to leave the room and compose myself from now on. I’m going to focus on positive reinforcement instead of getting pissy about the attitude.


Every time I get an eye roll, I’ll tell her that her eyes are REALLY BIG AND BRIGHT TODAY…


When she stomps up the stairs, I’ll tell her I love her shoes or socks.


When she slams the door, I’ll tell her she’s got one heck of an arm.



And when she talks back to me, I’m gonna ask her “Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?!”

…I may have to work on that last one. Your suggestions are welcome.

So I’m going to LAVISH her with positive reinforcement, asking about her day – which I normally do, but I’m going to take it to a new level. I’m going to schedule time for us to just hang out together alone. Just the two of us. I’ll show interest in different ways with regards to the things that make her tick. I’ll cook her special meals…all to win her back and extinguish the attitude. Then, at least I won’t be able to say I didn’t try. And if it continues…I’ll plunk her ass in therapy so quick it’ll make her head spin.


SassyBraggin: Music

Hiya Guys,

Have I mentioned how talented my friends are? I mean…my friends dance and sing and write music and play instruments…and they are MY FRIENDS!!!!!! Like, they like me and stuff. HOW FUCKING LUCKY AM I?!?!?!


We went to go see our friend Kurt Lindsay play at a local coffee shop tonight and he let my kiddo sing with him on a song and he played for her as she sang another song!

So I want you to hear this because I’m shameless like that. I’ll try to “embed” this properly tomorrow at some point, because right now? I’m laying in bed on my celly and I just drank some NyQuil so I need to post this quick before I become comatose.

This first video is my daughter Katie singing “Royals” accompanied by our good friend Kurt Lindsay who graciously let her crash his gig last night. You’re just gonna have to trust me that I’m not going to feed you spam here because for some UNGODLY DAMN REASON, WordPress is not allowing me to post TWO video’s here – so you have to click the link. http://youtu.be/om4kQN2CWK4?list=UUgmJWhHK3SaAPJsIkX8KTow

This second one is Kurt and Katie singing together the song “Falling Slowly”.


Apartment Manager Tales #43: Good luck with that…

Last month – one of our perpetually late paying tenants came into the manager’s office to *finally* give a partial rent payment. I explained how much he still owed and he questioned why I wasn’t waiving the late fees. I – initially – responded calmly and stated that the owners didn’t allow us to waive the late fees and that he had to pay them.

He responded with, “Yes they do.”

I calmly folded my hands on my desk and said, “No, no they don’t.” He then asked what his late fee was and I explained to him that it was 20% of the amount left owing after the rent deadline…which was about $200 for him. He was none too pleased with this response.

He continued:

“You can…you just won’t.”

Me: No, the owners have given us strict instructions to NOT waive late fees. We are not waiving late fees for ANYONE.

Him: You aren’t anybody. You ain’t nuthin to me.

Me: Well, I’m the manager here. Pay your rent on time and you won’t have to pay a late fee. It’s pretty simple.

Him: You don’t know me lady, you are NOTHING.

Me: Well, that’s about all I’m going to take from you. You’re not welcome here anymore. Get out of my office. *shooing motion with my hands…dismissively…like I’m shooing a goat*

About a week and a half later, he comes in and pays every penny of his late fee and remaining rent balance. It, of course, was after we sent our monthly reports to the owners of his building, so it showed that he owed money still – which completely pisses me off.

So Mr. Jackhole called today and asked for my co-worker that works in the office with me.

Me: She’s not here, may I help you?

Him: No, I don’t want to talk to you.

Me: Okay – who is this.

Him: Jackhole.

Me: Ah. Okay – well, I can’t tell you for sure if she will be here when you call back because she’s helping at another property. If you tell me what you’re calling for, perhaps I can help you. Is there something wrong with your apartment? Is there something that needs fixed? *of course I know that he’s calling to say he will be late with his rent…AGAIN…because he’s been late with his rent ever since he moved in…but I figured I’d humor him.*

Him: I just want to talk to the other lady. She knows my situation and can help me.

Me: Again – I’m not sure when she will be here, so if I can help you, I will.

Him: I really don’t want to fight with you. We got off on the wrong foot and you were rude, so I’m not going to talk to you. I really don’t think you’re sincere in trying to help me, so I’m not going to talk to you.

Me: Ok dude. Do whatever you want, I guess if she doesn’t call you back before you need something, you’ll have to deal with me. Good luck with that.