My pretty little background looks leatherbound. The term “leatherbound” carries a certain weight in my tiny world. It conjures up a few images; the first being the blue LEATHERBOUND encyclopedias that we had when I was ten (and that we were probably still paying for when I was fourteen but that were already out of date when I was ten and a half AND that by high school we mainly just kept around so that I could look at the pictures of different breeds of dogs that I would never be allowed to own under my parents’ roof.) Second, “LEATHERBOUND” reminds me of a term that might be haphazardly thrown around in a bar that closely resembles the “Blue Oyster” bar from the classic movie (but not-so-classic sequels) Police Academy, or in reference to a few Village People ensembles. And finally, “LEATHERBOUND” reminds me of a classic book. And if there’s one thing I know about classic books, besides the fact that I was supposed to read them in high school but read the cliff notes instead and then spent a few hours pondering how clever The Monster At the End of This Book was (Remember that book? The one that was written for two year olds and has Grover from Sesame Street trying to convince you that you shouldn’t keep turning the pages because there’s a MONSTER AT THE END OF THIS BOOK and you keep turning them anyway and he gets more and more frantic and then finally at the end–wait, I won’t spoil it for you if you haven’t read it. But if you haven’t, I would recommend that you scurry on out and buy it…after you finish reading this.) Anyway, if there’s one thing I know about the classics, or about every mediocre play (which is probably a better approximation of what my life is really like) I know that they give you a “cast of characters” at the beginning. And since this is the beginning of my blog, and your journey along side me, I thought that I owed you the common decency (what I am slowly learning is that decency is NOT very common) to introduce you to the characters. Trust me when I say that my neighborhood (and again, my life) is FULL of what I can only refer to as characters.
The people in my neighborhood (at this point, you’re singing: ‘who are the people in your neighborhood, in your neighborhood, in your NEIGH BOR HOOD’ …..from Sesame Street. What is up with me referencing Sesame Street twice in one scribbling? I don’t even have kids, so I don’t even have an excuse to watch it) include but are not limited to:
- The entire village of what I think might be Illegal Aliens(and not the cute ones like E.T.) that have taken residence in the converted-from-one-to-two bedroom apartment above me ( Seriously, about eleven people live on the second floor)
- Crazy Tony
- Some nameless man that is obsessed with my Cardinals Crocs
- The shirtless ice cream guy who may or may not be selling heroin on the downlow. or maybe just bombpops.
- Sandra Bullock Guy
- Lynn the Nun
- Outspoken Dave
- Two Possibly Pervy Old Men (which I might turn into a screenplay for a sequel to Grumpy Old Men)
- Old Couple who made me bring Yadi(my dog) into their house even though I didn’t know them and felt like I was being lured into a gingerbread house
- Lady who writes in fingernail polish on her trees and is always sweeping her sidewalk
- Old Lady Across the Street
- Heroin Addicts that formerly lived on my floor..not on my floor like I stumbled out of bed one morning and tripped on one lying between me and the path to my fruity pebbles, but on the first floor of my building.
- Yadier Pujols Murphy, my almost-five-year old, eight pound shih tzu who, let’s just leave it at this for now: HAS ISSUES….
Keep in mind that this list is not all-inclusive and that not everyone in my neighborhood is odd. There are actually some very nice people who live here, and really all of the people listed above aren’t necessarily weird, but like Michael Scott, I need to a way to describe people and what better way than by their quirks (I could just introduce myself to them and get their name in return but then I’ve committed to a semi-relationship.) Who knows, maybe some of the people in my neighborhood have labeled me as “that weird gal in Cardinals Crocs who’s always taking pictures of stuff she finds in her neighborhood (that I then post to my facebook page and will upload to my public page in the near future) walking that little buggy-eyed dog that HAS ISSUES”
If that’s the worst that they say about me, I’ll take it.