Venting. Because Sometimes, That's What Blogs Are For.

Can I just tell you how angry I am at our next door neighbors?

Actually, Mr. Rogers would roll over in his grave if he knew I'd used his favorite friendly term of endearment to refer to the ignorant, hateful savages next door.

These people.

First of all. They have obnoxious dogs that used to bark at EVERYTHING THAT MOVED. AND LOTS OF THINGS THAT DIDN'T. They were constantly yelling at the dogs to shut up or come inside (they were NOT obedient on any front.)

Our other neighbor John, was also having a problem with the dogs barking at him through the fence whenever he was outside reading. So he bought a bag of treats, went over to the house, introduced himself and asked if he could also meet the dogs, give them a treat and let them sniff him in hopes that maybe they wouldn't freak out as much when they sensed he was outside.

The answer was a very unfriendly no and a door shut in his face.

The dogs (Elvis and Oreo, a rott and a border collie) also used to get in growling, snarling fights whenever Gotham came outside to go to the bathroom. Gotham rarely even sniffed in their direction, and NEVER barked. Dude Who Owns The House (who I will NOT physically describe because I can't do it without being ugly) had the NERVE to stick his rotund head over my fence and and tell me that we were gonna "have to do something because I'm not gonna be goin over and breaking up my dogs every time yours is outside."

(Because apparently it's my problem that you haven't trained your dogs to listen to you.)

I politely informed him that Gotham is an inside dog and only comes outside to do his business.

"Well, I'm gonna have to call Bob (our landlord) or something because I'm not gonna be breaking these dogs up all the time."

I told him to go right ahead. He never did.

And the dogs don't get into fights anymore either. Because a few months later, it turns out the the rott, which was ridiculously overweight, had diabetes. They didn't know about it and the dog suddenly went into a diabetic coma and died.

Second Incident: Last week, Todd accidentally parked in the wrong spot after picking me up from work late one night. Savage Neighbor Dude called the police to come out and had a $75 ticket placed on our car for parking in his handicapped spot. Granted it was our mistake, but it was a complete accident. And they claim they didn't know the car was ours, even though it's been parked right next to theirs for 8 months. Also, I'm sure you can obtain one for a number of reasons, but we still can't figure out who in that house the handicapped sign applies to.

Third Incident: The brick wall that we share with their yard is leaking from the outside in. It's flooding our kitchen and our downstairs neighbor's bedroom. Today, we got this email from our landlord.

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We have been in talks with Andre Tuckpointing trying to get the south wall tuckpointed and sealed. Unfortunately, we are getting a lot of kickback from the neighbor. We are spending our time trying to smooth things over in order to get the wall fixed. As it stands, the tuckpointers need to enter the neighbors yard in order to complete the tuckpointing and the neighbor is refusing to let them enter at this time. We have discussed with the tuckpointers another option of possibly temporarily repairing the wall from the inside but they said the tenants would have to move out for at least 4 days so that is not an option. Lastly, we have decided to have a tarp installed on the south wall to keep the rain from penetrating the wall and entering into the apartments. Unfortunately, they were unable to get it installed before this massive rain. As soon as the rain lets up they will get to the apartments to get it installed. It is a first item on their list.

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To top it all off, these people have a huge Confederate Flag on a giant pole in the middle of their yard.

And I'm done.

Except to say that suddenly, the handicapped sign makes sense.

Tweet Essays

I don't tweet. But if I did, I'd talk about things like this...

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Being American, aged 18-30 and possessing an iPod entirely devoid of any music by Michael Jackson or Stevie Wonder, renders you utterly questionable and untrustworthy in my book.

***

I'm pretty sure every teenage girl wished for this to happen at some point, but I'd like to meet or hear form the 1 in 5000 young woman who actually went to the pool or the waterpark in the summer, made eyes at the lifeguard, rode the slide 3 times, got the lifeguard's number on the 3^rd ride and ended up dating him for the summer. Or longer.

Does that really only happen in movies? Or did somebody live it? Not some contrived mess either, I don't want to hear about anyone throwing themselves at a lifeguard. I just want to know if anyone's ever found true love at the pool or on the deck of a water slide. I'd like to find out that somebody married the lifeguard.

Somebody find me a real life Squints & Wendy Peffercorn, please.

***

My brewpub restaurant job triggered this next thought—but I am shocked by how many people show up to work nowadays, lookin a hot mess. If you're interacting with the public all day, don't you want to look like you took a second to put yourself together? Nobody wants to buy anything from someone who looks like they've been studying for finals all night long.

Guys have no excuse. It takes you like 75 seconds to get ready. Ladies, if you're chronically running late, why not invest in a Go Bag, that has all your basic prettying essentials inside? Then all you gotta do is take five minutes once you get to work and get it together. Being punctual is very important, but do you really think you're gonna feel better about being on time if you have to walk around the office or the restaurant looking afright all day? And if you're already late—what's five more minutes?! If you're already late, there's NO point in looking crazy when you walk in. At least let people believe that you were doing something that caused you to be late.

Is time the issue here? Or do people just stop caring? There's no excuse for that.

***

I have what I lovingly refer to as a half-fro. Ergo, at night, I sometimes/usually have to wrap my hair up in a silken headscarf. The scarf I have is brown with some kind of animal print on it, but its pretty subtle. It's not ugly, it just looks very—ethnic. And in the morning, when I take it off, it takes me all of five minutes to do my hair without a curling/straightening iron. It's fabulous. The scarf keeps the curls curled and the straightening straightened.

What amazes me is how nonchalant I've become about Todd seeing me in my headscarf. My 24-year old self would probably be appalled. But Todd is not weirded out by it at all, In fact, he likes it. That's part of why I married him.

But I still won't let him see me in a shower cap. #interracial marriage

This Here Is Real.

Can I just be honest for a minute? I feel like I haven' t been. I feel like I've been trying to impress people and then feeling foolish and depressed that I can't.

I don't know what this blog is for anymore. I don't have time for it. I don't make time for it. It doesn't really have purpose like I want it to. Not even selfish purpose.

I've been defining myself as a writer for as long as I can remember. Ever since I was small, I've wanted to tell stories, woo people with my words and paint beautiful pictures for them with my marvelous penchant for syntax. I've wanted to string words together that cause people to think and emote and have life-changing experiences. I still want to do that.

I've also been keeping this blog for awhile, hoping it would be something cathartic for me that internet browsers and potential future employees would stumble upon and fall in love with for my wittiness and engagingness and ability to compose a sentence using nonsensical verbage in a charming way.

I haven't done any of those things.

I've abandoned this blog. I could say I'm barely writing anymore but the truth is, I'm doing a lot of dreaming and not writing a damn thing. I haven't touched a story in I don't know how long. I'm not writing for work or for play, I have no current projects.

I used to have projects every single night. I'd come home from work and write till 3am, some nonsense about superheroes or jedi knights and people falling in love and overcoming adversity.

Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade this new life for anything… but it hurts, falling out of what I've been used to. I'm different now and I have a million things calling for my attention. I feel compelled to answer them all and in doing so I feel I have lost—am losing-- a piece of who I am. It sucks. I feel bad for my poor husband, because I've started having weepy breakdowns over this madness about once a month.

I can't stand it anymore.

So this is an apology and a promise. An apology for not making time for what's important, for something I love. A preemptive apology, knowing it will happen again and I'll have to be okay with it.

But mostly, a promise. A promise to stop just thinking about it and put something down, no matter how ridiculous. A promise not to get caught up in comments and website visits. A promise to make time to let words flow and not to give up on the tales I'm in love with, the characters I've created and bonded myself to and to the stories that have shaped so much of who I am.

Uncharted stories, unwritten words-- I'm not going anywhere. I'm making a comeback, albeit slowly. Expect some changes.

I promise I will always adore you, and while I may threaten you, I will never actually leave you.

And someday, eventually… I will write you.

Community

This past Sunday, this postcard was featured on the Post Secret blog*.

Several people wrote in to respond to it:

-----Email Message-----

Please don't jump. I also wanted to jump off two years ago but I'm glad I didn't because things are now much better.


-----Email Message-----

My friend jumped off it in 2006. She was legal. I still miss her like hell. She might not have felt like she belonged in San Francisco, but she belonged somewhere. So do you.


-----Email Message-----

Come to Indiana. I want you here. You could belong here.

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Then this facebook group was started...


Which has led to this event, this coming Sunday.


There's no denying that Facebook is a huge time suck-- but every now and then, it joins forces with an incredible cult art phenomenon and redeems itself a little bit.


*FYI, the Post-Secret blog contains some adult images and content.

How it's been.

Sunday: Work 7-3, Church setup @ 3:30, First AG baptism, Em's last night before leaving for Haiti.

Monday: Breakfast with Kim, visit Grandpa @ hospital, Memorial Day BBQ, small group at our house.

Tuesday: work 7-4, Dollar Burgers @ Llewellyns, attempt to tame my hair.

Wednesday: work 7-4, dinner at home, Cardinals game with Genteman fam.

Thursday: work 7-3, snack at home, drive to IL for Financial Peace University @ FBC Bethalto, dinner with Genteman fam.

Friday: bank, groceries, bills, laundry, etc, work 6:30-midnight @ Schlafly.

Saturday: eat breakfast, return library books, work 1-5 @ Dentyne promo gig, work 6-midnight @ Schlafly.

Sunday: start over.

Mix in my parents coming to visit for a week (which was wonderful), training a slew of new people at work, looking for a job that will let me use my degree, and sleeping.

"Daisy, let it go..."

I've been away. I've been full of life and empty of time to tell about it.

My parents came to town for a week and stayed with us. We had a lot of fun and ate a lot of good food. My mom and I participated in a craft fair and sold lots of delicious baked goods, including lemon cake bombs that ended up tasting like posh homemade zebra cakes. I saw Iron Man 2, was blessed with cute new mustard yellow flats and new thermal curtains that keep the blazing sun out of our window-walled upstairs bedroom. Also, Gotham ate and digested an entire tennis ball.

I also got my heart broken for the first time in a long time. I never imagined that getting dumped professionally and romantically would feel so eerily and heartbreakingly similar.

For the first time in my life, I wanted this job. I had the education and the desire to do it well. I was immediately attracted to it; I wanted to hang out with it and get to know it and fall in love with it and commit to it. On the exterior, and even on the shallow interior, me and this job were perfect for each other; it made me happy, it made sense, and I wanted it.

But the Lord obviously has other plans for me. Plans that I was utterly apathetic towards yesterday afternoon when I got the call that I was not selected for the position.

But today has been better. I imagine the coming days will be too. I go back to work at the Arch tomorrow and I put in my two weeks notice at Schlafly this past weekend (in favor of a summertime promotional gig). Todd and I are also starting Financial Peace University in a couple of weeks. I feel like days are flying by, and yet I'm also waiting-- impatiently and incessantly-- for new changes. All while trying to savor little moments in each set of 24 hours, and stay on top of every day life.

But I guess that's what you do when you're a grown up. I'll take it.

Lord, give me strength.

"You give and take away...
You give and take away...
My heart will choose to say,
"Blessed be Your name.""

Loverly

It's been a good day.

Our old, stinky, cantankerous dishwasher is GONE. In its place is a brand new shiny, good-smelling dishwasher that is practically silent. Magnificent.

My belly is full from a delicious dinner of whole wheat rotini pasta (my fave... well, any curly pasta is my face), brocolli, chicken and sauteed mushrooms with mozz cheese.

We took Gotham for a good walk and on the way, we met another neighbor with a Boxer, which was cool. But the best part was learning the names of some neighborhood kids (who are ALWAYS sitting out on the stoop when we walk Gotham in the evenings) Marilyn is the oldest, she's in seventh grade. She has a cousin, Brittany who sits out there with her, and then there are her 3 year old twin siblings... Luke and Leia. I kid you not. That is serious fandom commitment! I felt an instant connection. And the coolest/most unusual part? All the kids are black. Fantastic.

Tomorrow is Todd's LAST day at Starbucks! He's so excited to be back in full time ministry. And... I have an interview tomorrow. For a grown up job, in a marketing department. With books. Amazing books. :) I'm really excited about it, but I'm trying not to be, you know? I'll tell you more about it later...

And LOST. I can't even talk about it right now. I'm still processing. Sigh.

But.

It's been a great day. And I hope tomorrow's even better. :)