Friday, March 03, 2006
Not Even a Hefty Bag is Enough to Contain this Trash
I recently received some great news. Matt found a website that predicts your home's resale value. I'm fairly certain that the website exaggerates a little bit. Even in our inflation-happy housing market, I didn't make $19K in seven months. What I'm even MORE certain of, is that I couldn't actually get that price once the prospective buyers meet Debbie.
Yes, this is the same Debbie I have spoken of on more than occasion (Instance 1, Instance 2). She has sadly made her way into regular topics of conversations about ineptitude. While I used to be just an observer of her family's daily displays of insanity, I find that I and many of my neighbors are now cohorts in her surreal life.
This woman grew up in a nice area. I'm sure she was the popular one in high school and all of the boys loved her. Unfortunately they loved her a bit too much as she was rewarded with about 4 or 5 delinquent children. Granted, one of them is currently in juvenile hall--he was the one breaking into Matt's car a few months back--making the house a bit more quiet. But I always see one or many of the family members constantly walking between their house--which I have to pass en route to my own-- and their trashtastic Suburban. I can't help but wonder what they're doing or where they're going. At any given time, there is always at least one of them sitting in the truck. Sometimes its on, and sometimes I think its just a second home. No one should be able to know that much about a neighbor that they don't even like.
Oh, but that's not all! Shortly after the break-in, Debbie--who also happens to be a board member on the Condo Board--asked me about a community-wide list serve on which I was working with another board member. Obligingly, I gave her my e-mail address so that we could communicate that way, figuring that would limit my exposure to her. I thought horribly wrong. Now I am barraged at least once or twice each day with ridiculous forwards dealing with everything from appliance sales at Boscovs to the difference between Male hunters and female hunters. Does she honestly think that interests me at all?
While this has all been going on for some time, I chose today to discuss it because of the morning incident. I don't have the luxury of having remote start, so on cold days I go out and start my car, lock it, and then go back inside for a few minutes and then enter a warm car with my spare key. As I walked out this morning, I passed the house of sin and saw the front door open wide.
This is not unusual as there are always people walking in and out. You get a great view of the wooden picnic table--with built-in benches--that serves as the formal dining room table, as well as the Rubbermaid-endorsed storage / filing system stacked sky high in the foyer and living room. I didn't pay the open door any attention, but I thought it was a waste of heat considering that this morning's temperature was 25.
When I went out again to actually leave, the door was still wide open, still with no one but that god awful picnic table in sight. I did think perhaps someone should check on them to make sure everything is OK. But then I realized that I didn't care that much.
Is that wrong?
Yes, this is the same Debbie I have spoken of on more than occasion (Instance 1, Instance 2). She has sadly made her way into regular topics of conversations about ineptitude. While I used to be just an observer of her family's daily displays of insanity, I find that I and many of my neighbors are now cohorts in her surreal life.
This woman grew up in a nice area. I'm sure she was the popular one in high school and all of the boys loved her. Unfortunately they loved her a bit too much as she was rewarded with about 4 or 5 delinquent children. Granted, one of them is currently in juvenile hall--he was the one breaking into Matt's car a few months back--making the house a bit more quiet. But I always see one or many of the family members constantly walking between their house--which I have to pass en route to my own-- and their trashtastic Suburban. I can't help but wonder what they're doing or where they're going. At any given time, there is always at least one of them sitting in the truck. Sometimes its on, and sometimes I think its just a second home. No one should be able to know that much about a neighbor that they don't even like.
Oh, but that's not all! Shortly after the break-in, Debbie--who also happens to be a board member on the Condo Board--asked me about a community-wide list serve on which I was working with another board member. Obligingly, I gave her my e-mail address so that we could communicate that way, figuring that would limit my exposure to her. I thought horribly wrong. Now I am barraged at least once or twice each day with ridiculous forwards dealing with everything from appliance sales at Boscovs to the difference between Male hunters and female hunters. Does she honestly think that interests me at all?
While this has all been going on for some time, I chose today to discuss it because of the morning incident. I don't have the luxury of having remote start, so on cold days I go out and start my car, lock it, and then go back inside for a few minutes and then enter a warm car with my spare key. As I walked out this morning, I passed the house of sin and saw the front door open wide.
This is not unusual as there are always people walking in and out. You get a great view of the wooden picnic table--with built-in benches--that serves as the formal dining room table, as well as the Rubbermaid-endorsed storage / filing system stacked sky high in the foyer and living room. I didn't pay the open door any attention, but I thought it was a waste of heat considering that this morning's temperature was 25.
When I went out again to actually leave, the door was still wide open, still with no one but that god awful picnic table in sight. I did think perhaps someone should check on them to make sure everything is OK. But then I realized that I didn't care that much.
Is that wrong?
# posted by Jay @ 7:53 AM 
