I wish I was anonymous

I am caught in the eternal dilemma of the blogger.  I am surrounded by outrageous people but feel very limited by what I'm allowed to write about them.  So, do I write the funny, often bizarre, rarely appropriate stories of what these people do, or do I preserve friendships and save my house from being burned down by the crazed madman friend who said he would do exactly that if he ever recognized himself in the blog?  (There's seriously something wrong with that guy.)

It's harder in Seattle.  In Paris I wrote primarily about French people, none of whom were ever going to read what I wrote.  Here I'm writing about people who know about the blog and sometimes even read it if they are trapped in a small space with nothing else to do.

If I write the stories, I could lose all the friends.  If I don't write the stories, I could end up with a lame blog full of things my kids say.  So I guess the question is, how much do I really like these people?

While I ponder the importance of friendship, let's talk about people who definitely do not read the blog.  Let's start with Supermodel Neighbor.  Supermodel Neighbor is not yet my neighbor and probably never will be since The Goddamn House purchase is uncertain, plus Supermodel Neighbor may move to Portland.  I finally met Supermodel Neighbor last week while out walking the neighborhood with Seattle Mom.  He came out to say hi.  Super friendly guy.

I, of course, had my usual response to him, the thing I always do when confronted with a very good looking person -- I immediately went into a coma and declined to say anything at all, instead staring at the ground and muttering occasionally about the nice weather.  I think I also mentioned I used to put Lucien on a leash when he was younger.  Ain't I a charmer?

Looks like we have another Hot Thing One situation on our hands, posse.  Dammit, I thought I was free from the sorcery of beautiful people.

Supermodel Neighbor invited Seattle Mom and I to come see all the work he's done on his house.  Twice the visit has been planned and twice it's been postponed by Supermodel Neighbor, quite possibly because he's found out about the blog and is terrified of me.  I'll fix it, though.  I'm going to hang around outside his house, possibly dangling from the eaves and staring into the windows.  When he sees me, I'm going to say, "I'm not going to be ignored, Supermodel Neighbor."  That should show him I'm harmless.  Then we'll have tea.

Chamomile for me, please

(Nope, still not really him)

Let's see... I'd also like to mention our downstairs neighbor.  She's renting the studio apartment in the basement of our Tiny Cottage and we met for the first time over the weekend.

I apologized to her about the noise, as I'm sure it can't be easy living below us.  She said it was actually a pleasure for her to hear little feet running overhead.  It reminded her of growing up with seven brothers, and of her large family full of nieces and nephews.  She told me to let the kids run around the house without worry because it brings her great joy.

At that moment I blurted out "I love you!"  It was awkward, but sometimes you just can't fight the feelings anymore.


Sunday was the Super Bowl.  It was so deliciously American, all those beefy guys running around showing off their tight butts and tackling each other all sexy-like.  We watched the game with a handful of friends at a bar in West Seattle. 

There were, of course, lots of beers consumed and lots of unhealthy foods eaten, including bacon-wrapped dates that looked like testicles.  I waited until no one was paying attention before I put one of those in my mouth -- last thing I need is someone taking pictures of me shoveling balls into my mouth and then "leaking" them online.  It would destroy my good name as a goddamn family friendly blogger.

this table is full of cheese and bacon

While waiting in the bathroom line, I heard a man whooping and screaming and carrying on obnoxiously out in the main bar.  The girl next to me suddenly turned and said, "Yep... that loud guy is totally my boyfriend."  The moment struck both of us as hilarious and we laughed so hard we had to sit down on the bathroom floor.  Don't you love it when stuff like that happens out of the blue with total strangers?  I live for it. 


There's a taco bus parked within a walkable distance of Tiny Cottage.   Having a taco bus parked so close means we eat Mexican food pretty much every single day.  It also means I sing "Taco-Flavored Kisses" from South Park pretty much every single day and let me assure you, Alex is indeed being driven up the dang wall.

But the great part is the weather -- it's been warm and crisp and clear in Seattle recently.  We've been eating delicious Mexican food sitting in our yard in the sunshine in February while the kids run around and there is not much better in this world.

Here are some pictures of the friendships I am trying to protect by not telling any of their stories.  I'm still not convinced they're worth it...

...dammit..... they totally are.

Your ridiculous secrets and lives are still safe with me, people,

MJ