Still recovering. The mowing service was out mowing but I took my doggie out at the anointed hour anyway, and there was pretty much no problem. Two white guys, no eye contact whatsoever, even when I yelled out, "Oooo sexy muscles!" Not really. Taking my dog back in, I had to give the dog's HARNESS - (there is no choke-chain!) - a yank, cuz he was walking up to the mowers all happy goofy. The neighbour girl who waves saw this. Last night, they had solved their fight and settled on their front porch with beers, being all polite and dressed up with big hair. I didn't say hi, seeing as my brain was still upstairs in my kitchen. Well, today, maybe 10-15 minutes after the mowers, I went out to walk to a store. I hear neighbour girl saying, "something something something. Mother FUCKER!" Maybe this was meant for me, or maybe it wasn't. The main thing is this: I DON'T CARE. Maybe she meant I should wave to her. Maybe she meant I'm TERRIBLE TO MY DOG, seeing as the reason he keeps running up to people is because he knows I INFLICT NO SERIOUS PUNISHMENT IF HE DOES. (The most I ever do is refuse to read him "Winnie the Pooh" later on that night). But now I know why the Nether People avoided me so absolutely - so, eh, "proactively" or pre-emptively. It's because no matter what you do, you're screwed. So it's better to be called a Mother Fucker than to have some jealous guy unloading his gun at your house. I also explain this as: This is a small town, where people are slow to accept or allow strangers or change. Meanwhile, their heads are full of TELEVISION SETS imported from Hollywood, land of the OVER-ARCHING EGO. Woops - guess what? Now the Nether People, i.e., "couple", are back to fighting with each other.
Well, also, consider this: BOTH waving girl and Nether Girl were both outside AGAIN while I took dog out AT THE ANOINTED HOUR. So, maybe they wanted to prance around in front of the mowers just to feel sexy. Or maybe they they are now starting this mind-game of competing with each other for my attention, even though I am to be AVOIDED, cuz I'm a Motherfucker, or maybe not. But very weird, if this is so, and very thick with danger, like my good friend, Big Ed. I sure hope it really isn't as NUTS as this. But why are the Nether Neighbours arguing now?!! Egads. TO CONTINUE: Being a small town, there must be some secret dance that a stranger has to go through before he or she is accepted by the townies, which involves a whole wonderful range of passive aggressive push-me-pull-you steps along the way. I do not know this dance and I am not here to dance. I came not to dance with Caesar but to get a Caesarian - and by that I mean I came to avoid human beings because no (white) human being yet understands how disabled I am so eeeeg fuck it all. I thought I managed to make progress with the Nether Neighbours, at least, by turning a blind ear and a deaf eye to their unending avalanche of pounding-on-walls, cranking up the stereo, etc., and so on. But then along comes this whole new couple I have to deal with. I hope you will all forgive me if I let out a large GARUMPH!
PS - Oh - maybe I should let folks - especially NEW folks know - why I use the term, "Nether Neighbours," (and related). It is not meant to resemble the "N" word. It happened when I was listening to a song by Dan Fogelberg, called, "Netherlands," which is a very sweet relaxing song, compared to the sheer hell I was going through. I looked over at the steps downstairs to the front door, which was always completely SATURATED with the smells of HAIR chemicals and second-hand smoke, and full of loud arguing sounds and slamming doors and banging and such, often directed at me. From there, much of the things that were making me relapse wafted up, and chocked my soul. It was an area I wanted to avoid at all costs. And so I called it the Nether Region, which then came to represent everything in the apartment down below mine. Then the couple who live there became known as, "The Nether People." OK? OKKKKKKKKKKKKKK?!!!!!!!!!!!
PS - later that aft/eve: I am so proud of my dog!! He normally goes outside 3x per day, at the anointed times. But, after all the mowers, and me going to the store, he actually ASKED me to let him out again. I thought he had one thing on his mind: A POSSIBLE WALK. So I told him NO, since he always PULLS. But then I realised that he really NEEDED to go outside. And he had been waiting a while to get out there. Turns out he had the runs, and this time he totlaly spared me the horror of him shitting all over the apartment! Isn't that great? Well, I guess it was the excitement of the mowers today that did it to him. But also, I am REALLY becoming suspicious of these shrimp snacks I sometimes give him - they might have Gulf Disaster toxins in them. Even if they don't, I'm taking him off them, especially in the morning. Hopefully I will get to the supermarket soon and get him some better treats - and NOT chicken jerky... If you don't know about toxic dog jerky lately, you might need to check it out. - OMG - I just realised that being outside with the mowers all on the lawn prolly caused him some serious anxiety/dissonance, after all that he did yesterday to try to become a better dog at deciding at whom, and when, he should bark, (see earlier post). Wow, now I hate that I let him out with the mowers - I only wanted some variety for him!!