Welcome to Pleasantville

Did I ever tell you how mean our neighbors were to us when we moved into our apartment last summer? I think the first night we were there, they banged on the ceiling after I closed the washing machine door a little too loudly (apparently). Then a few days later she came up and was all, "Umm... hi. Umm... I just wanted to come up and tell you... that like... besides, like, welcome to the neighborhood and everything... that umm... we can hear like... everything in your apartment." She had this totally snooty, valley girl-esque way about her, had bleached her hair a few too many times, and I'm pretty sure she also had on leopard print ballet flats (not that there's anything wrong with that, because I kind of find them to be cute myself, just not on her.) So I said, "Oh my gosh, really? Like what?" She said, "Well, like... everything. I mean, like... we can hear you walking and stuff. I mean, it's like... so bad that I even went downstairs to our neighbors and asked if they could hear us, and they were like, 'yeah', and so now I like... just... tiptoe around my apartment all the time." And when she said "tiptoe" she actually acted it out like charades and showed me how she tiptoed around in her ballet flats. So, I said, "Oh, that must really suck. I'm sorry...but I mean, we have to walk around so.... " And then she said, "Well, I just wanted to let you know." And I was all, "Thanks." And, I never spoke to her again in the 10 months we lived there.

Anyway, that was the "Welcome to Portland" we received, and it totally sucked. After a few other tense encounters (a near fist-fight at the first movie we went to, and a napkin Nazi at a concession stand near the Seattle Locks) I was starting to think this place was full of nothing but a bunch of mean hippies. Oh boy, was I ever wrong.

We met our first neighbor before we even put an offer on our new house, who told us some of the horrible stories about the previous family who lived here. I won't get into all those details, but suffice it to say that there were several confrontations involving the Portland police, guns, jail, escaped juveniles, and a recycling bin full of forties of Olde E to prove it all. From that time until last week when we moved in, we had already met 7 houses of neighbors (they all came over and introduced themselves.) In fact, one of them even brought this beauty over as a gift for us:



Just to give you a frame of reference, I only knew 2 of my neighbors in Nashville and I lived that house for almost 6 years. Also during the 2 weeks we were refinishing floors and painting, etc, we borrowed a shop vac from our gay neighbor ("Bob"), a caulk gun, and a lawnmower. They even brought us each a plate of grilled delicacies, complete with sides (Greek salad, some sort of Moroccan rice with pine nuts and cranberries) and 2 Sierra Nevadas (Justyn's favorite beer). How awesome is that?! They all kept coming over and saying, "We're so glad you're here!" or "We're so excited to see activity over here!"


It all seems great so far, but for a guarded, private person like me, it also seems a little bit strange. You know what I mean? For example, one of our neighbors, "Mick," was saying to us (regarding the previous owners of our house), "Things really started getting bad, and Bob and I had just had enough. So, we made things very difficult for them." I sort of did a double-take, like, "Come again?" Like, seriously, what does that even mean? "We made things very difficult for them." Kinda creepy, right? But whatever, I shouldn't complain. I mean, they have all been nothing but nice to us, so I have nothing to worry about. ... Right?

So then yesterday morning, I walked out the front door and saw these:

Ahh... surely they don't know that tulips are my favorite... or do they?

Aren't they pretty? But I don't know who they're from. They're anonymous tulips.

I mean, maybe it's just another nice gesture. Or, maybe it's "Pleasantville code" for "Please mow your lawn and get rid of the box spring sitting in your backyard." (I'm not a redneck, it just won't fit up our stairwell and we haven't figured out what to do about it yet.) Either way, I guess I'll never know. But I'm thinking maybe I should bake them all some cookies, just to be on the safe side. Problem is, I don't have a "to die for" cookie recipe. And, I think that's what's in order here. I'll have to think on that for a bit... any ideas, let me know!

P.S. I don't know if you noticed, but I now have curtains in my dining room. That's one of many home improvements I've got to tell you about later.

P.P.S. Sorry about no Food Friday last week. I'm sure you can imagine things have been kinda crazy. But, there is a birthday cake waiting for you. And, I promise it'll be good.