Tuesday, November 20, 2007


So, I may not have informed everyone of the oddness that was my neighbor's Halloween party. But I should provide the background for why I'm weirded out. Here's the dealio:

The 28 yr old widow who sold us our house was acting strange (innebriation could be the explaination, but this was wierd) She kept referring to Big Love and suggesting that if she married Rhett she could live in her former house. Then she mentioned repeatedly that she reads my MySpace blog and found me funny and random. She derived much from the snippets of my revealed self, most of which was some projection of herself onto me. She made me quite uncomfortable when she proceeded to hit on all the married men at the party, which weren't too many in numbers, but statistically speaking she was batting 100, or is it 1000? I don't know, you get the idea....but the real kicker, the piece de resistance came when she offered to be our surrogate mother.

Ummm, thanks, but really all our positions are full. I'll keep your application in the circular file.

So tonight the widow commented on a MySpace photo of my new dark hair. This is the first contact I've had with her in a month and I'm wierded out. How do you break up with an aquiantence you only have because you bought her house and she's kinda crazy and definitely a substance abuser and you feel bad for her because she had a horrible tragedy that seems to be defining her future, but at the same time you don't want to be around her because she makes you weep uncontrollably and around strangers at a party that you just want to leave but you can't find a polite way to exit because you live next door and you're expected to liven the party attended by people you would never hang out with under any other circumstances because they look at you like you have two heads because you brought hummus and they don't know what that is and therefore refuse to try it and so you're just hoping that the nerdy / slightly uppidity neighbors from two houses down will make their obligatory appearance so that you have at least one person with whom you can talk to about anything other than dick jokes and crude sexual innuendo, but the innuendo-ers don't know that word so....

Umm, can you tell I miss you guys?


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