Deep down I knew that moving to an actual neighborhood would mean that I couldn’t hide like I could in our apartment.
In an apartment, people generally don’t talk to the other tenants; it’s just not expected and kind of discouraged what with the downcast eyes and all that.
We moved our beds over here last Sunday and by that Monday, I had my first neighborly visit.
I was a bit freaked by the whole encounter.
I’m sure the lady is super nice and all that but I don’t do too well with unannounced visitors…I prefer to have advanced notice so I can psych myself out and then calm back down. I’m weird like that. I like to think of it as emotional contingency plans: I imagine every horrible thing that can happen and then I’m prepared.
Fully aware of my multiple wierdnesses here.
Last night we had our next door neighbors come over. Tucker went out on our front porch jobber and I knew I would be a total coward if I hid behind the front door so I rounded up the kids and bit the bullet. But I made us look super weird since I pushed the kids in front of me and I stayed kind of half in the doorway and half inside since I didn’t want retarded dog to scare the shit out of the neighbors.
Cause Sophie would charge out and try to lick them and they would run away screaming. Really. I know this because that’s what she did to the UPS guy–who’s a tool–and she almost got kicked in the head for her troubles.
I thought this whole “Let’s meet the neighbors!” and stuff was a TV cliché that didn’t really exist but apparently I was wrong and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
BUT, the next door lady gave us her daughter’s babysitting card–The kid’s like 11 and has her own business card. Tucker and I are already planning a romantic evening. Something extravagant like walking around the mall and through shops with glass items and not having to worry about our kids going all bull/china shop.
Not sure which couple we are…
Here’s the house and stuff. I can’t remember if I shared pictures before and I’m too lazy to go and look.