I liked this “meme” so much I decided to do it myself. Mainline Mom tagged “everyone.” So do I. The trick to this one is to fill in the sentence after the dash with the first thing that comes into your head. It’s harder than you think.
I know – the first line of The Aeneid in Latin. It used to be the first four lines, but my retention has suffered over the years.
I believe – the children are the future.
I fought – the law and the law won.
I am angered – by unfairness and unaccountability.
I love – to write.
I need – to put more pictures up on the blog.
I take – naps as much as possible.
I hear – my neighbor’s dog barking every night between 8 and 9 for at least half an hour.
I drink – gin and tonics and pinot grigio.
I hate – having dirty dishes in the sink and clutter on my counter and table tops.
I use – toxic cleaning products. I am newly worried by this.
I want – a pretty, landscaped front yard.
I decided – to become less type-A after Kyle was born. How am I doing?
I like – big butts and I cannot lie.
I feel – bloated.
I wear – flip flops in the summer, so often that my arches suffer.
I left – CT to find my fame and fortune. I found neither, but something so much better: my own little family.
I do – NOT have an answer for this one.
I hope – my child continues to be healthy and normal.
I dream – of moving back to CT.
I drive – with a constant paranoia that I am going to be hit.
I listen – to Jack FM on my drive to work.
I type – because of Sr. Ernestine in high school.
I think – hard, all the time, even when you can’t tell.
I need – some food right now.
I wish – I had one of those bodies that bounced right back after childbirth.
I am – menstruating.
I compensate – for shouting at my husband by helping him with stuff.
I regret – missing the weddings of Matt and Michelle, Chris and Danielle, and Lisa and Andrew.
I care – too much about strangers who are killed accidentally.
I should – exercise more.
I am not always – patient. (HAHAHAHA that is the understatement of the century, I know you are ALL laughing, too.)
I said – I would not wear sweatpants to work. You don’t know how close I am to breaking that promise.
I wonder – if I would have liked being a doctor.
I changed – careers when I was 25.
I cry – pretty much every day.
I am not – good at writing fiction. That pisses me off.
I lose – the same 3 pounds and gain it back again at least once a week.
I leave – my work at work. That’s where it should stay.
Here in TV land, the job is not so glamorous. I sit at a computer in an olive-colored office. It’s not a good olive. It’s the sickly pallor of day-old crusty strained peas. Get the picture?
I spend my time either watching tapes, writing, or doing both simultaneously. There are many trips to the kitchen for snacks and beverages, and occasionally I will step onto the balcony to check the weather or the traffic, since I can see the freeway from there. A few weeks ago, I called the babysitter every day to check on Kyle, but that always made me so emotional that I couldn’t concentrate so I stopped doing that.
For one of my breaks yesterday I drew up a little flyer for my neighbors. It gave the phone number for the police station with a little note that essentially said “if your car had a cap popped in its ass, call the cops!” After dinner I put Kyle in the stroller and we went around the neighborhood, looking for piles of broken glass on the street. Every time we found one, I looked around to see if anyone was outside. If so, I told them that I am their neighbor and please give this flyer to the owner of the broken car. If I could not find a person, I left the note on a door, windshield, or mailbox.
I gave out 8 of the notes. I met 2 new neighbors, and I came home with 1 invitation to the set of The Shield from a neighbor who works on the show. I’d say that’s a pretty good score.
I am a white person. My son is even whiter than I am. When we walk in our neighborhood, which we often do, we encounter mostly Latino people. We say hello (“Gah!”) and smile, and usually get a greeting in return. But we don’t know any of these neighbors. Honestly, we usually stick to a very specific walking pattern that doesn’t take us too close to the major streets around us. The fringes of our neighborhood make me nervous because lots of those families hang out outside and they stare at us as we pass.
I didn’t care about that last night. Let them stare. I wanted the attention. As I mentioned below, I was on a mission. Last night Kyle and I marched right over the border (Chase Ave.) into Brown-skinned Resident Land. People stared, indeed. In one yard, children stopped playing. But for those children and mine, I was not self-conscious. I asked the man in the front yard, in English, if he knew about the broken car windows. He excused himself, in Spanish, and went inside. He returned with a woman who spoke to me in accented English about how every other car on her street was damaged. She took the note I gave her and promised to give it to her neighbor. She thanked me for stopping by, and she said hello to Kyle. She shared my concern that the acts of vandalism were dangerous and we didn’t want things like that happening where our children live. And that is my point exactly.
I haven’t checked yet to see if anyone has filed a report. I don’t know that I will. My enthusiasm for this mission has waned. Just thinking about it makes me tired. But I have it in my head that I might want to start a Neighborhood Watch. I think it’s the least I can do, while we live there.
Are you sick of me or what? I’m sick of me.
Turns out the rash of vandalism in my neighborhood was inflicted with a BB GUN. Some reject went down our street and adjacent streets with a BB GUN and SHOT IT AT OUR CARS. I found this out last night when I got home from the world’s longest meeting and the image of someone SHOOTING A GUN in the direction of MY HOUSE would not leave my head. It’s really not that far of a stretch from there to DRIVE-BY SHOOTING. YES I AM THINKING IN ALL CAPS, THAT IS HOW UPSET I AM ABOUT THIS. As I slammed around my kitchen, furiously putting dishes away, I periodically broke into hysterical sobs when I thought about how Kyle’s bedroom is in the front of the house and what if one of those BB’s went through his window?
Today it is my mission to go around my neighborhood and get all of my neighbors whose cars were damaged to report it to the police. The police are not responding to ME because MY car was not damaged. Now they have Overzealous Concerned Neighbor on their hands.