Monday, October 8, 2012

i hate that i hate some of my neighbors.

hate is a strong word. i am feeling a certain degree of it though... or some degree of incomparable discomfort. my neighbors are described to me as being rachet. yeah, you heard me, i said it. rachet. oh fer heaven's sake, now what is she going on about? i know that is what you are thinking. also you may be saying to yourselves, she is on another stinkin' nonsense filled rant. no good can come of this.

my neighbors moved in to the house across the street from me. it bugs me a lot, since i am in my house a lot. i work in the front, street-side room and do most of my stuff there. i mean eat meals, work on projects, talk on the phone, nap, comb my dog, make proclamations to my brood, and all other parts of my day to day living. so i have the distinct location of hearing a lot of what happens across the street from me. i do not try to eavesdrop, i swear. however it is very seductive. the goings on there are tantalizingly invasive and curiosity inducing.

when they moved in, i thought it was some guy and two pitt bull dogs. the guy was some non-descript amalgamation of racially blended heritage and a full bushy black beard. it was summer and hot out... so the commitment to a full on beard had me totally thrown. and then his friends or relatives started to show up. all of them had the same thing going on... droopy drawers and full black beards. short hair up top went with the beards. they looked very much like they ought to be profiled. the difference between someone being or needing to be profiled and this group is that there is a privacy barrier.

someone forgot to mention this to the new guys. if you are profile-worthy, typically it is due to having secrets. these people do not entertain secrets. not at all.
except on the big things. those are topics that are not publicly expressed. it took me months and months and into the years and years category to find out, there was not just a guy with a bushy black beard and his hairy faced acolytes to deal with. nope. this guy had gone to some kind of technical school degree and was educated in the ways of construction management. he was married. he had a small daughter with the aforementioned wife. since the baby was born with all kinds of early health issues, they decided that the wife was best to go out and earn some money, while he stayed home with his daughter.  wow. this sounded so evolved in theory.

the bushy dudes love to come visit in packs. at all hours. they are just wastrels of all kinds. the women associated with them are the worst ever. the wife snarls when she sees me. i enjoy as i get to know them more, that i rarely see the wife. i have NEVER seen the baby girl. i have of course seen the dogs. often too. they are beaujolais and botox. i kid you not. those are their names. ok, maybe i kid a little, but not much. why? cause you just cannot make this shit up. no matter how hard you try.

one nice summer day, i was on my front porch either painting or taking photos. the posse was out front with a few motorbikes and lots of chatter. every third word was one that became very noticeable in lexicology of a certain socio-age-economical collective. it starts with an "N" and is only used in impolite company, in rap songs blaring out of tinted glass windowed cars or by non-white people.
seriously, i think the word becomes so used by this crowd, it loses context and the horror of the O.J. Simpson murder trial.
i was wincing every time these ill mannered youths said it. there is a peculiar phenomenon on this street. sound carries unbelievably well bouncing down between houses on the street. the particular summer day that this was occuring, was no exception. i kept hearing "nigga" this and "nigga" that. if you say it enough, it has no context. it becomes an article in grammar.
the loss of the horror of this word became bothersome to keep hearing... at least to my sensibilities. i shouted across the street to interject myself into the bushy bearded motorcycle revving crowd. i wanted to let them know, i did not appreciate their intrusiveness into my own world.  minding my own business was becoming harder to do. they ignored me. afterall, they were busy creating a pocket of social tastelessness.
not very surprising, but when a fat, grey-haired woman screams that you gotta stop sayin' NIGGA, it draws some attention. funny how that happens. i have not heard it since i started calling  that word on that day.

i described this scene to my kids. my son and daughter number two, aka "thing one" and "thing two" as named by my eldest. i told them how it played out that i was no longer horrified to say the "N"-word. these two uber-white kids i have raised, told me our neighbors were just being ratchet. or was that rachet?
their definition was, folks that are pretending or genuinely not caring about being with the inner city rats and living messy urban lives. i did not get that at first. of course, being me, i looked it up in the dictionary. the urban dictionary that is. now i see that my kids were right. there is both a thing that is rachet as well as ratchet. in the application of my neighbors being grouped as such, it was an error. they are neither rachet/ratchet . they are in fact "ghetto". so "ghetto" in fact they may also overlap with some "rachet".
either way, i dislike the whole thing.
in a huge way.

it amazes me that these little darlings, set upon the world by their own pod-parents, would likely be hugely self satisfied knowing they were considered "ghetto". as it happens, i cannot believe in any manner that they would be thrilled to be considered consolidated jews in Venice, Italy. of course, if they knew the origins of a ghetto, it would mortify them.
1. (n.) A quarantined section of the city where the Jews were forced to live during WWII Germany.

other things that are going up my nose about this collective include the response to their broken doorbell.
friends and relatives pull up and honk their horns to say howdy. or come on down to the sidewalk. i want to snag some drugs, man.
the women are the WORST. i mean THE Everloving WORST! they are ill mannered, cussing, quick tempered crankpots.  what i find amusing is that the males associated with them from the bushyfaced entourage think that they have some control over these nasty gals.
they go off in all kinds of finger wagging, high haired, ill conceived barrages of language and bad mannered entitlement.
i find it utterly intolerable. really, it tweaks my sensibilities fully and completely. what is most inconceivable is that through a myriad of events... the landlord for the house is now the bank. the former owner defaulted on his mortgage. these people are officially squatting and lowering the quality of the neighborhood i used to enjoy.
i resist change at every turn... but having had this group of folks thrust into my world is pretty painful.
so they can make as much unpleasing noise at all hours, drop trash on my front sidewalk, dump car trash and cigarette butts from their cars in front of my home. they pay no rent/mortgage/utilities. my husband worked 3 jobs this week to pay for all  of those god-given(snort) chances fulfilling our mortgage and utility needs.
rodney dangerfields are we. we get NO RESPECT.

 if my umbrage is not heated enough... they put their dogs on the 4'x8' front porch over the front door. the dogs whimper and whine and bark. during one evening last week (concurrent with the first presidential debate), beaujolais dog was whining for 3 1/2 hours. it was raining too. it is all i can do not to call animal services. these two un-neutered pitts are developing some anger issues. i am right there with them too. they get put out in the sun on hot days, rainy days, as well as anytime it is inconvenient to be cared for. i figure their paws are the canine version of overly callused by now to withstand these porch visits. as a dog owner, i object to all of their bad habits. i just can't do much to improve their lives without speaking out to the bush family.

anyways, there is much more to whinge on about... but i wanted to vent some. these folks are ruining my happy hippie flower ju-ju.
to bring things back into my own world and focus... i leave these floral pics as a visual salve to the posting.


earrings & bracelets
Frida style

beady flower necklaces
more Frida style

in pink and brown

 in calico

deep cornflower blue earrings...
sans wires
{they are easier to photograph without the wires}

more things are coming as soon as i get some photos taken.

so i bid you adieu on this crisp autumnal day... as i need to go back to work, teasing a few more pretty blossoms into existence.

bon jour everyone... for now. 



  1. Yep. I, too would find this very difficult to rise above. However, it made for a very entertaining and dare I say, educational read.

    "they were busy creating a pocket of social tastelessness" That's hilarious, Wendy.

    But I hope they go away soon, it won't be fair for you to be imprisoned for mercy killings.

  2. Luv u luv u luv u! Never have I subscribed to anyone! You won the Teri luvs u prize! Coming from the other side of the fence, at a young age thrown on the other, I refer to myself as "trailer trash with class!" Life for me was one of glitz and glamour as a nationally recognized wildlife artistat the height of my professional career when exposed to carbon monoxide poisening from a non maintained fireplace. Dain Bramage discovered many years later when I became disabled. Where am I going she asks? I love your writing as it is prolific, enunciating me without a doubt! Have you ever written a book or a screen play? Honey, my brain was so fried, it has been very difficult for me over the past 20 years, 4 computers later! Plus, I used to make my own jewelry, added to all of my thriftstore finds, leaving me with a pile of glass mawbe' pearls and misc that screams for your creative touch! The two issues seperate, would love to see them in a great home! Look forward to your typed travels and adventures...the neighbors should be reported to the health department, ASPCA & FEDS. The bank too. Look forward to your typed adventures in Walmart white trash people land! Oh, Oblahblah has taken everything away all we saved in our government piggy banks....please contribute wisely to eliminate the Obombournationfrom what is left of our great country! My email is artisterirenee at gmail dot com. {-: BIG SMILE :-)

  3. Oh, I didn't explain the "trailer trash with class" comment and why I call myself that. When I became disabled, the Alpert Nipon and Oscar De La Renta glamourous closet with matching shoes and underwear went South along with my waistline. With the inevitable financial future I was facing once my very large savings account dwindeled to the last penny, the future loomed large. With every swipe of my ATM card, medical bills, medicine, living expenses all soaked my hard earned dollars up without any to replace them.

    Back in that same area, housing on a SSI income was embedded into my dark future. I purchased a 40'classic 1974 Sovergin (sp?) Land Yacht Airstream 10 years ago. Being a successful AMASID designer, the innerds were totally remodeled into my now mibni apartment! Still wear my designer clothing that fits (well made labels purchased as taught to me as a youngster by my stylish Mom)and were like new because they all have been cared for properly since the 70's! That was a mouthfull! Ergo, the name I named myself! If the shoe fits!