Moving: From (Part One)

So, Chris and I recently packed up and moved to, basically, the heart of suburbia. We now live in a new subdivision (it's only 2 years old); all of our neighbours built their houses 2 years ago, so they all know each other, and they knew the people that lived in our house for a year and a half.

Anyways, we're moving from centre of downtown. There were just too many problems; mainly we backed onto a wretched high rise that was, basically, the bottom rung of low-income housing projects. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for low-income housing developments; some people really need the assistance to get back on their feet, or are new to the country, etc.

So, yes, I am for social assistance; however, I am adamantly against drug dens with karaoke machines.

This particular high rise was 12 stories high, and on the side that backed on to our house, there were at least 3 apartments with karaoke machines, that I counted. I don't know if you've ever heard a 45 year old female meth addict sing "Crocodile Rock", but I don't think I have to tell you, it's a little slice of heaven.

There was also an obvious drug dealer, who never even attempted to hide his profession, on the first floor; and he conducted business at all hours of the night...but I guess he was friendly enough, he pushed my car out of the snow once.

The man above the drug dealer had 3 pit bulls in a one bedroom apartment, but he was nice enough too, he told us which apartment had been throwing fireworks at our car. Oh, and when a girl of about 20 was doing snow angels (in the middle of July) in bare feet and no pants on our back porch, in a drug induced haze, the pit bull guy helped describe her to the police after she fluttered away.

Once someone even tried to break into my house while I was in the shower. But the joke would have been on them because I was in the middle of shaving my legs with a shower cap and mud mask on (not a pretty picture). I suppose they got scared off by the dogs, but I still wondered what would have happened if they had broken in, seen me, and how disappointed they would have been. I'd imagine the conversation would go something like this:

Me: What are you doing here?

Burglar (eyeballing me): Oh, umm geeze...yikes!

Me: If you come any closer I'll call the police!

Burglar: Yeah, I wouldn't worry about that

Me: So, you're not even going to attack me?

Burglar: Oh geeze... see the thing is... well, you're great! (pat on the back) But I have a really early meeting tomorrow, and I just got out of a pretty serious relationship...I just don't know if I'm ready to get back into a whole thing...but it's totally not you...you're...you're great...Gotta go! I'll call you some time!

Oh, and there was no shortage of people falling off of their balconies! Some domestic disputes, others just a little too intoxicated to utilize the railings. Don't worry though, all of the falls resulted in a triumphant "I'm Okay!", upon impact.

I think my favourite incident occurred one winter afternoon when Chris realized someone had stolen our snow shovel. The following morning there was a knock at the door; Chris looked out to see a man standing on our porch holding our snow shovel. Chris opened the door, and let the man go into his entire sales pitch of how he just started a snow removal business, and how he had "contracts" with all of our neighbours, from years back. When the man was finished Chris asked him where he got his shovel, and the man said he bought it, and had had it for years; then Chris said "Actually, it's mine, and you stole it", then the man said, "Oh right, yeah, no I actully found it?". Chris said "Yes, I know, you found it on my porch." So he took the shovel back, and shut the door, effectively shutting down the man's snow removal "business", and crushing his entrpenurial spirit.

Okay, so 'Moving To (Part 2)', I'm saving for next week, because the material keeps building!

xoxox,
m