Holy crap, last night sucked. I was woken at midnight by the LOUDEST MUSIC you can imagine. My house was shaking. I didn’t need to wonder who it was, I knew it was the WORST NEIGHBOURS EVER across the street. (Not the fabulous gays, we love them dearly, but the house next to them)
We don’t know who owns this house. We can’t even figure out who LIVES there. There are so many people coming and going, so many cars, so many kids, it’s impossible to figure it out. They are the rudest, most inconsiderate assholes on the face of the earth, I’m not kidding.
Last night (or rather, this morning) they had a DJ and massive speakers set up in their backyard. There were at least 50 cars lining the street and there were people on the sidewalks, the driveway and even milling around on the road. This is not the first time this has happened. I can’t even begin to tell you the problems we’ve had with these people. The best indication I can offer as to the quality of humans that are over there is the time (about a year ago) that my husband and I awoke to a grinding noise outside at 5:30am. We looked out the window to find what appeared to be a tank, 12 men in S.W.A.T. vests, MACHINE GUNS DRAWN and aimed at the house as they banged down the door and arrested a number of people.
I am not even kidding. And we live in the burbs.
So last night we called the cops as we always do. Our friends across the street called as well. Then we called again, and again. All the while my kids were awake, the baby was crying and it was now 2:30 in the morning. No cops came. I am so disappointed in my city. I understand that accidents and robberies take precedence over our issue, but for almost four hours no one responded to our calls. Thanks, city of ________. You suck.
So here’s the kicker. At 2:30 I couldn’t take it anymore. I got dressed and walked my sad little self across the road and into the madness of BOOMING reggae music and the stench of weed so bad that it’s still in my hair 12 hours later. I approached the pack of 100 people and wondered if I was about to meet my maker. I hope you’re getting the full visual of this lame little housewife wandering over there in the middle of the night, IN TEARS, begging them to turn it down. It was not a shining moment in my life, I have never felt more uncool or out of place. They were friendly enough, but did absolutely nothing. So, back home I went to sulk in bed over my utter defeat.
The cops eventually showed up after three and shut it down. By then I’d fallen back to sleep and so had the kids, but our entire weekend was pretty much ruined. Today it’s gorgeous and sunny and do you think that any of us are up for doing ANYTHING? Nope. We’re exhausted and cranky and snapping at each other. The driveway across the street is still full of cars and people and even though it’s Sunday I am DREADING the later hours, fearing another loud night.
All I could think the entire time this was happening was how I could never do that to someone, anyone for that matter. How the hell are they all outside hanging out? How are they not ashamed? Or worried that one of their neighbours will walk over and rip them a new one? I cannot believe the lack of regard for all the people around them. They see me outside every day. They know I have kids, they know I have a baby. What is WRONG with them?
I’ve been dying to move out of this area pretty much since we moved in four years ago. But really, will it matter? Is there a secret area somewhere that I don’t know about where everyone is kind and considerate and thoughtful? Does that even exist anymore?
My parents bought a brand new home when they first got married back in the 70’s. As the homes were built, couples and families moved in one by one, and since the landscaping and lawns weren’t done yet they took turns hosting “garage parties” every weekend. How fun! There was such a sense of community. I’m sad to say that I’ve never really experienced that in my years of home ownership. I’ve always managed to find one or two gems on my street, people I know I can count on who I will always keep in touch with after one of us moves, but for the most part we are pretty isolated and I don’t know many people who can say they aren’t anymore.
I think it’s sad. I want neighbourhood barbeques and kids coming and going and husbands helping each other shovel snow. I want car pools and pot lucks and I want to recognize every trick or treater that comes to my door! I just don’t know where to find such a magical place, and I’m not sure it’s even out there and that makes me sad.