A long while ago the stop sign across the street from my house disappeared. I don't remember why it vanished but I think it had something to do with the remnants of a hurricane. The why isn't all that important to this story.
My house is on the corner of the intersection of two narrow streets. Cars that go down the street that I live on (meaning it's in our mailing address) do not have to stop when they reach the intersection. They can just breeze through. Which is fine, but the other street used to have a permanent stop sign cemented next to my neighbor's second porch. The stop sign has been replaced with one that is zippy tied to a stand. This temp sign is kinda low to the ground.
Here is the part where I get mad... People have been ignoring said sign. I am waiting for the day when an idiot ignores the sign and gets into an accident right in front of my house. Not only will I be pissed that someone was stupid enough to ignore the sign but depending on the season and the time of day my car or mom's could get crushed. I bet Pirate Pete won't be to happy either since he is our car insurance pirate, I mean agent.
Every time I am in my car and I see someone drive through the stop sign I will honk my horn at them and start cursing. I am not the only one who is upset about this in my neighborhood. There are little kids in my neighbor hood who I have seen whip down the streets. I'd hate to see any of them get hurt because some idiot wasn't paying attention.
I am afraid to even drive down the street that never had a stop sign because I can't afford to repair my car if I get into an accident. You have no idea how mad it makes me to see people flat out ignore the stop signs. I am really starting to consider yelling at town hall to get the fucking thing fixed.
Oh, God... I live across the street from an outdoor theater... Stupid people will come to my neighbor hood. I need to find a place to hide...
Monday, February 28, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
The World Wants To Scar Me For Life
I have been having a string of annoyances lately... The most recent being the snow storm. The bulldozer they used on the streets actually make the snow bank encasing my car worse. The snow bank came up to my kneecaps and in once place up to my head.
To shovel away said snow my mother and I had to move some of it across the street because we had run out of places to put the snow. It's a really good thing that their is an empty lot across the street. By empty lot I mean the parking lot for the Salvation Army's open air theater that isn't used during the winter. It took us an hour to clear away the snow and free my car.
But that is not what made me mad. Oh No! The day we got slammed with the storm Mom had started shoveling out her car without me cause I was still sleeping. She had let Georgette out while she shoveled because A) no one would be whipping around the roads while we were having a blizzard B) we like to let them run free when ever we can and C) They are like bad pennies... They always come back.
Well, one of our neighbors (neighbor being defined as being able to see their house from a window in our house) starting complain that Georgette bit him and our dogs are on the roof barking at all hours of the day. Then he called my mother a lesbian.
First off, the dogs are INSIDE the house 96% of the time. The only times we let any of them run loose is when it is snowing and we are out their shoveling or we are being extremely lazy. ( which is rare) When we do let flee from the house they don't go up to anyone. Josie might, but that is because she loves attention. Actually when ever I let Georgette out she never goes farther than across the street.
When the dogs are on the roof they only bark if someone walks or drives by. Which is infrequent. Mom and I are also home when they are on the roof so if they are being to disruptive we bring them back in the house.
Now for the lesbian part... This disturbs me. Not because I am homophobic. I am open to the possibility that I could fall in love with a girl. No, its because if he thinks mom is a lesbian... that would mean that he thinks I am also a lesbian... with my mother... EEEEW GROSS!!!
This isn't the first time someone thought I was the significant other of one of my parents. Just a few weeks ago I went to visit my Dad. We went to the shooting range to spent some quality time killing monster targets when this old man comes up to us and starts shooting and talking to my dad. Dad walked away at some point while the old man was shooting and I was loading magazines with bullets. The old man sat down and we both sat making small talk. I don't think I was very engaging for him because he looked over his shoulder and asked me where my husband went. In a literal second my mind tried to process what the old man had asked me before I realized that he was referring to my Dad. My Dad, who I looked almost nothing like unless you REALLY looked hard enough. I should mention that it had been a fear that something like this would happen when I was younger and started my monthly weekend visits so needless to say this freaked me out.
I of course responded "Oh, you mean my dad? he went to talk to someone...." The old man only heard the last sentence because a little bit later when Dad had returned he and the old man started talking again, and I went to shoot one of dad's guns and I caught the tail end of the conversation. I heard my dad exclaim that I was his daughter and I turned just in time to see the old man's reaction.
Later in the car Dad and I discussed this and I expressed my dismay about the topic, but the need to find a restroom soon over took my thoughts. The issue might have been what caused our fight in the parking lot of that gas station later that day, but that is a story for another time.
Mom and I started to shovel what we could then mom had to go to work and I went back in the house and hid under my quilt with the dogs. (They make wonderful mini space heaters) I had to venture out to walk the dogs and shovel some more. I was not happy
To shovel away said snow my mother and I had to move some of it across the street because we had run out of places to put the snow. It's a really good thing that their is an empty lot across the street. By empty lot I mean the parking lot for the Salvation Army's open air theater that isn't used during the winter. It took us an hour to clear away the snow and free my car.
But that is not what made me mad. Oh No! The day we got slammed with the storm Mom had started shoveling out her car without me cause I was still sleeping. She had let Georgette out while she shoveled because A) no one would be whipping around the roads while we were having a blizzard B) we like to let them run free when ever we can and C) They are like bad pennies... They always come back.
Well, one of our neighbors (neighbor being defined as being able to see their house from a window in our house) starting complain that Georgette bit him and our dogs are on the roof barking at all hours of the day. Then he called my mother a lesbian.
First off, the dogs are INSIDE the house 96% of the time. The only times we let any of them run loose is when it is snowing and we are out their shoveling or we are being extremely lazy. ( which is rare) When we do let flee from the house they don't go up to anyone. Josie might, but that is because she loves attention. Actually when ever I let Georgette out she never goes farther than across the street.
When the dogs are on the roof they only bark if someone walks or drives by. Which is infrequent. Mom and I are also home when they are on the roof so if they are being to disruptive we bring them back in the house.
Now for the lesbian part... This disturbs me. Not because I am homophobic. I am open to the possibility that I could fall in love with a girl. No, its because if he thinks mom is a lesbian... that would mean that he thinks I am also a lesbian... with my mother... EEEEW GROSS!!!
This isn't the first time someone thought I was the significant other of one of my parents. Just a few weeks ago I went to visit my Dad. We went to the shooting range to spent some quality time killing monster targets when this old man comes up to us and starts shooting and talking to my dad. Dad walked away at some point while the old man was shooting and I was loading magazines with bullets. The old man sat down and we both sat making small talk. I don't think I was very engaging for him because he looked over his shoulder and asked me where my husband went. In a literal second my mind tried to process what the old man had asked me before I realized that he was referring to my Dad. My Dad, who I looked almost nothing like unless you REALLY looked hard enough. I should mention that it had been a fear that something like this would happen when I was younger and started my monthly weekend visits so needless to say this freaked me out.
I of course responded "Oh, you mean my dad? he went to talk to someone...." The old man only heard the last sentence because a little bit later when Dad had returned he and the old man started talking again, and I went to shoot one of dad's guns and I caught the tail end of the conversation. I heard my dad exclaim that I was his daughter and I turned just in time to see the old man's reaction.
Later in the car Dad and I discussed this and I expressed my dismay about the topic, but the need to find a restroom soon over took my thoughts. The issue might have been what caused our fight in the parking lot of that gas station later that day, but that is a story for another time.
Mom and I started to shovel what we could then mom had to go to work and I went back in the house and hid under my quilt with the dogs. (They make wonderful mini space heaters) I had to venture out to walk the dogs and shovel some more. I was not happy
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