Oh for fucks sake. If you don't hear from me in a few days, would somebody who knows me in real life please check to make sure I'm not dead? And if I am, let the police know that it was the skinhead who lives on the corner three houses up. Dirty white house, chain link fence with a dog that seems sad and lonely, and a project car they seem to be fixing with black spray paint, duct tape, and stupidity.
Generally, I don't mind where we live. It's really close to downtown, it's cheap, I like my house...
but it's a little bit ghetto. (A is reading over my shoulder here and he says it's a lot a bit of ghetto.) There is a mix of old people who have lived here for years, young couples, gay couples, weird hayseed types, and random ghetto trash of all races. It's pretty diverse.
And in general I have felt fairly safe here. We do have some really great neighbors. If you're not directly involved with say, dealing drugs, drug dealers aren't really going to pay you any mind. Hey, we even had a fairly cordial relationship with our resident crack dealer until he moved away. (Granted, this was after a huge group of neighbors along with a police escort and news cameras went and told him to clean his act up. Another story for another time.)
But this afternoon I took Charlie out to go to the bathroom after we got home from work and this huge pit bull, with the biggest chain collar I have ever seen, ran down the street. Charlie barked at her, not realizing he weighs six pounds, so she turned and started running at us. I scooped him up and yelled at the dog sternly. It stopped and just looked at us. I walked back into the house trying to be all hardcore and not let the dog know I had almost pissed myself. (After I thought about it I realized I knew this dog because she used to get out fairly often and was actually kind of sweet. But she could totally eat Charlie.) I told A and he stuck his head out the door to yell at the dog who was getting ready to take a huge dump in the middle of our yard.
As he's doing this, the dog's owner came down the sidewalk and yelled at A for yelling at his dog and STUPIDLY my husband talked back, telling the guy that we have leash laws and to get his dog before it shit in our yard. So they yelled some stuff back and forth about beating each others asses and I believe the guy promised to come back tonight.
I'm pissed at A for not backing off and placating the guy, though I know he feels bad and being pissed won't do any good. But now I am sitting in bed with my laptop instead of sitting in the living room, because how am I to know if this idiot won't do some sort of drive by?
I grew up in suburbia, people! I want my mommy.
And normally I am all "yay urban redevelopment! clean up the old houses! teeheee heeee I can live with crack whores!" But tonight I am a little more in the "Fuck, I should have let A talk me into buying a vinyl house with a 45 minute commute" feeling. I don't think I am going to sleep very well.
So yeah. Here's hoping that my house doesn't get broken, bulleted, or burnt. Same with my car.
Because I would hate to have to cut a bitch. But I will.