Friday, July 11, 2008

My Open Letter

Dear Meddlesome Neighbors:

It seems that there are a few residents of this street who have an issue with the way we have prioritized the care of the outside of our home. Instead of beating around the bush (as you've no doubt noticed, I detest anything to do with shrubbery unless there are knights involved), I'll get right to the chase.

To our "neighbor" who called charging us with "not watering our new sod". I'd like to explain a little about being "Eco-Friendly". That means taking care to not use every natural resource including water like housekeeping is going to bring you more in the morning. An example would be that instead of running your sprinkler all day in the blazing sun like an asshole, you time the watering of your grass for when sun is down. This results in the evaporation of less water which means more of the water you are using goes directly to your grass which means you have to use less. See; friendly. Not only on the Earth, but on our wallet as well.

Now I know this concept is extremely scientific. It involves words like "evaporation" and requires you to have a basic knowledge of how things grow and the role water plays in that process. Buy an encyclopedia. Shit, if the Brittanica people come around, I'm sending them to your house. And since you are insistent on hiding behind others to make these false accusations. . . Brittanica is going to have to visit a lot of houses. And I hope everyone in the neighborhood knows it's your fault they've got a pushy salesman hocking crap in their living room for 2 hours.

Now, on to "The Lady Across the Street". I'm not sure which "Lady" I'm speaking to, but I'm pretty sure it's the one whose house is perched on a cliff leading to a creek who lets their dog out only to have it sit on their porch looking forlornly at the front door whose house has been for sale for about 6 months.

For as much as I'd *love* to bear the burden of being the reason you have been unable to sell your house, I have a feeling it has something more to do with the above reasons I mentioned and the fact that you are one of 5 overpriced cookie cutter houses for sale on a street of barely 20 and you are selling in a time that could be similar to the end of days in the housing market. For as much as I'd like to say it is my garbage cans keeping the buyers at bay. I simply can't.

There are no HOA regulations regarding where I am and am not allowed to put my garbage cans. They are in front of my garage on my property. They are not impeding the flow of pedestrian traffic by being in the sidewalk, nor do I put them in the side yard (also known as the Wind Tunnel of Death) so that they are blown willy nilly into the street. I put the garbage cans out and then we park our cars in front of them. Most of the time, you can't see them because there is a vehicle in front of them.

You also expressed concerns that I will put a bag of garbage out on our porch for my husband to take out to the cans. It is heavy and it stinks and it sounds like the perfect job for my husband- however he and I both agree that if you would like to volunteer to schlep the bags over, you are more than welcome.

I have a baby. Which means I have diapers. Which means my garbage cans do not and will not EVER be put inside my garage during the summer. EVER. I'll leave a bag in your garage for two days and then send paramedics over to revive you. Maybe. So outside, away from the WToD and blocked by the cars- not only from view, but from animals getting into them and knocking them over- seems to me the best place to put my garbage cans. I'll be honest however, I don't know that I've ever thought so much about garbage cans and the etiquette surrounding their placement. I've come to the conclusion that to spend this much time and energy on such things is a great waste. You have my pity.

I'd like to close by saying that I am a good neighbor. I don't have wild parties (or any parties for that matter), my kids don't ride their bikes through the street shrieking at 10pm and not watching for cars anytime (honestly, the helmet doesn't do much good when your kid is struck by a car b/c you have failed to teach them respect for the road.). I don't smoke pot around the neighborhood kids. I don't send my kids over to ring your doorbell 4,000 times at nap time so they can hock whatever crap they are selling for the "League of Pestering Children"'s new rock wall. I obey the leash laws AND the poo pick up unspoken laws (except in my yard. I'll pick it up when I get damn good and ready thankyouverymuch).

I am quiet and shy. I keep to myself and play with my kids in my yard. I buy .50 cups of piss warm Crystal Light three days in a row from the "Lemonade Stand" that your kids have set up on the corner of two dead end streets. And I keep my garbage cans in front of my garage and water my grass at night. Kiss. My. Ass.


I've Been on Hiatus

Not by choice however.

I have officially blown through 2 top of the line laptops. Little is not laptop compatible. At all. The first was an Acer with a ginormous screen and a power cord that was a POS. When I called to say- "hey, this is broken", they replied with "yes, we know, it's a common defect". Useful information BEFORE dropping 2 grand on a laptop but whatever. I got it "fixed" and happily plugged it in when I got it back, I'm a sonofayouknowwhat if that hunk of junk didn't break AGAIN right then and there.

The second was an HP. . . that doesn't technically belong to us. Technically, it belongs to the airline that shall not be named. After numerous yanking and fingerprints and droppings and generalized beatings, it's getting a new screen and getting shipped back to said airline.

Which leaves me laptopless. Not good. That means I have to haul my rear upstairs where the air does not work into the "office" which smells like cat food and pee all at the same time (>barf<) and try to sit in front of an infernally slow desktop as I slowly melt into a puddle of frustration. And sweat. Not to mention, Little is as fond of cat food as he is of dog food. He also likes to bring me handfuls of it and shriek "KITTY!!!" as he dumps it on the keyboard. Or desk. Or down my sickening sticky-with-sweat back.

Needless to say (but I'm going to anyway. . . ) I don't get up there often. Hence the drop in my blogging. For this I am sorry- though I have to report- in general, things have been rather quiet. I'm sure I will be eating those words later.