Arggghhh!!

I just have to get this off my chest. There is this woman who has a son in my daughter's Kindergarten class and I really don't like her at all. She rubbed me the wrong way on the first day I met her and I just have liked her less with every subsequent meeting. Now, don't get me wrong...it's not like she's this great person and I am being totally irrational. She is deeply unlikable and ugly too. The problem is, I keep running into her. I'm at Jewel, she's at Jewel. I'm at the school, she's at the school. I'm at the library, she's at the library. And she always has something to say...."Oh, this morning while I was writing in my children's journals....did you know that I keep journals for all my children? I start a new one for each of them on the first of every year so that they will be able to go back and see what I was thinking when they were 2 or 10 or 15. It's time consuming, but I know they will appreciate it someday."
This is true. She actually told me that. First of all, her kids are all boys and they will NEVER care what she is thinking, let alone care what she was thinking when they were 6 months old. Second of all, they will resent her foisting these tomes upon them with the expectation that they will actually READ them. The only people who will ever read them will be the wives of these boys and they will lose interest after the first couple of years. The journals will all be about how she volunteered for every PTA committee and had to put up with the rest of the less committed moms who decided to have a life when our kids were at school. I can tell you what WON'T be in the journals...any memory of having gone and bought make-up. Yikes! Her husband must drink.
I just know that when I ran into her at Jewel she was looking in my cart and judging me according to what I was buying. She told me she was buying all the ingredients to make gingerbread from scratch so that she and the boys could make gingerbread houses that night. Give me a break. Just what elementary school boys LOVE...making gingerbread houses from scratch. Unless they are going to blow them up when they are done, I don't think they are going to give a rat's ass about gingerbread houses. Their idea of a gingerbread project is eating it. Or else their houses are just piles of gingerbread covered with frosting and they are telling their hideous mother that these are post-Katrina gingerbread houses.
In my cart? Funyuns, diet Pepsi, a bag of salad and a tube of biscuits. If only I had a bottle of Jack Daniels in there as well, I'm sure her mental notion of what kind of mother I am would've been complete.
I don't know why I let this woman bug me so much. Maybe it's because she thinks she's so superior and I am dying to point out her flaws to her. Maybe it's because she is so clueless about her flaws. Maybe it's because she wears those "mom jeans" that come up to your bellybutton and have tapered legs and she wears bright white canvas Keds all the time. What is that? Who wears those stupid Keds anymore? Mr. Rodgers? Hello! It's winter in the midwest. LOSE THE KEDS. Ick! I just can't even think about her anymore. It's making me testy.