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2003-02-26 || 7:18 p.m. || and they have a cache of accessories like eyeglasses and crocheted scarves. || our neighbors to the right are a middle-aged arty couple whom i am for some reason hell-bent on being friends with. maybe it is the wacky middle-aged haircuts. or the fancy dog. or the artist lifestyle of open studios and eccentric visitors or the spectacular backyard i spy on from our laundry room window. but i don't think they like us. perhaps it is that they associate us with the stoney very loud quasi-musicians downstairs who for a brief period had the bad habit of depositing very large objects on the curb whether or not it was trash day (bed frame. chair. big metal things.). perhaps it is my habit of smoking on the front stoop. perhaps it's that we're the pesky twenty-somethings who aren't so big on the upkeep of the backyard (completely the downstairs' fault!). i don't know. but to add insult to injury, i notice from my several spy stations throughout the house ( i love spying. )that there is a regular whirlwind of very cute twentyish kids visiting them. the girl who has the best haircut and talks to the dog. the girl with the pleated skirt and bicycle and lovely knit cap. the dapper fellow in the peacoat who hangs over the chainlink fence while smoking. they get invited inside the house. they are probably drinking wine and getting tips on paint brushes. and sitting on oriental rugs and hearing stories about berkeley in the sixties. we are so not invited. we speculate that perhaps they have some sort of cute kid factory in the basement, pulling people off the street and transforming them with their witchy arty ways. or maybe, as brian suggests, they have already filled the slots of "girl with kneesocks" and "charming boy who has a flair for indian desserts" and have no need for us. no fair. ps. very loud downstairs boys are having some kind of reefer-inspired hootenanny right now. not amused. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |