Are we blogging about neighbors this week? *frown* I don’t think I have actual notes anymore…
Ah well, I don’t have creepy neighbors. The people living on one side of me are never home. I mean, I think they have a house somewhere else because they only show up on the weekends to cut the grass. The neighbors on my other side have about five million dogs who howl at distant police sirens and go insane when their owners get home. I actually find it kind of cute.
It’s my across-the-street neighbors who always providet he most entertainment. Not that I spend all that much time watching them. I don’t have to. I can hear them. There are three Vietnamese families in the houses directly across the street and once or twice a month, they’ll gather at one house, drink and sing karaoke until about midnight. It’s entertaining. Some of them aren’t half bad either.
Of course, their kids annoy the hell out of me. Every year for New Year’s and July 4th, they get firecrackers. My parish is a no firecracker/firework parish. You’re not supposed to pop them, but of course people do. Normally I can ignore them doing that, but this year, they decided to get the big fireworks. You know, the ones that sound like miliarty grade artillery shells? And shoot them right in front of my bedroom.
Danica was trying to go to sleep because Danica had to work the next morning. So what did Danica do? You bet. Danica hopped out of bed, didn’t bother grabbing a robe and marched outside to ask them “Do you mind? Some of us have to go to work tomorrow?”
They took their fireworks one street over. Not that it helped much, but I appreciated the half-assed effort.
Those are my neighbors. And people wonder why I want to move out to the middle of nowhere.