Well, you slow people, you missed your opportunity to be my neighbor! Today, as I type, people are moving into the house across the street. They look nice. Much nicer than the former methhead family. By the way, I have a random update on that. I think I may have judgmentally mentioned that the wife of the volunteer fire fighter looked like a stripper? oh I didn’t? I was trying NOT to be judgmental, but poooo, I’ve ruined it now! What must you think of me? Oh, well, I’ve kinda stop caring for the most part. Not that I don’t appreciate you, I’m just tired of always trying to be perfect. and I can jump to conclusions about people sometimes. Not all the time! It’s an insecurity on my part- evidenced by the fact that I’ve run on this rabbit trail explaining how I don’t care what you say- when it totally looks like I do… CRAP.
Soooo, anyhoooo, I was talking to someone that went to a party and met a lady and found out through conversation that she is my neighbor. (Jack’s mom from diagonal across the street, Jack is the child who parades around the neighborhood alone in half-zipped up super hero costumes at 7 am.) Jack’s mom, too, was talking about the neighbors like I do, (the former drug house with the people getting their cars repo’ed all the time, etc.) and was telling about the crazy neighbors she had next door. The part-time fire fighter’s wife (she wasn’t part time- he was) was apparently proud of things other than her husband- her stripping at the Silver Dollar for example. Hilar. Whats not hilar is their fighting and cops coming to their house with guns that one time. But that little adventure is another blog. My friends that met Jack’s mom said that wouldn’t it be funny if our whole neighborhood was made up of really great people who all thought that they lived in a crazy neighborhood? I’m beginning to think that just may be true…
Welcome to the neighborhood newbies! You have no idea what is in store for you!