From now on, NO ONE is allowed to answer the door

Mr. Blogger and I were completely lazy on Sunday, until the point where we realized that we had ABSOLUTELY NO FOOD in the house. That will always motivate us right out the door.

So about 2:30 in the afternoon, after watching his Father Ted marathon on BBC America, MB finally went to go take a shower. I was still lounging about in my sweats and t-shirt, unwashed hair thrown into a bun and too-lazy-to-put-my-contacts-in so I'm wearing my glasses ensemble, completing the hobo librarian effect I was going for.

Kona Girl called to tell me all about her weekend in Vegas and we were JUST getting to the juicy part where her girlfriend decided to chat up The Sopranos at the next table when...the doorbell rang. No one ever rings our doorbell. Well, except the hoodlums.

I tried just ignoring it, although since our doorbell is as loud as Big Ben (AND plays the exact same tune), it's a little difficult. I was even whispering to KG in the hopes that the nuisance would think no one was home.

Nope. It rang AGAIN.

Not only was MB in the shower and unable to help me, but I was looking like a NIGHTMARE of laziness. Plus...HELLOOO...I'm on the phone! Then the pain in the ass at the door knocked as well. As though we would hear THAT better than the clanging chimes.

I gave up and just decided to answer it. Surely there was a fire in the neighborhood, or at the very least Ed Mc Mahon was appearing to hand me the million dollar check. It had better be THAT IMPORTANT.

Imagine my joy at just a little old lady. And extremely PUSHY little old lady.

"Well HELLLOOOOO! You must be Brooke. I met (Mr. Blogger) a few weeks ago when I was standing on the street waiting for my ride. I'm Nosy, your next door neighbor. I just feel so un-neighborly for not coming over to say hello sooner!"

I was holding the phone in my hand as I stood at the door. I mean really, can you NOT get the hint? Apparently not. I had to rudely hang up with KG (which really pissed me off because I felt SO BAD about that) because this lady was all smiles and ready to chat.

This whole thing reminded me of the witch and warlock couple who lived next door to Rosemary in Rosemary's Baby. You know how the old lady is incredibly annoying and eventually just barges in with such regularity that Rosemary's husband is forced to AGREE TO GIVE THEIR UNBORN CHILD TO SATAN.

Yeah, it was like that. But without the Satan part. As far as I know.

(Oh, and the next time, if ever, you happen to catch that movie, notice the calendar in the kitchen marking the best days for them to conceive. But they happen to have a big fight on the Big Night though, so the hubby drugs Rosemary and she ends up thinking she hallucinated the whole "having sex with a demon" thing. The day she conceives through devil insemination? October 4, 1965. That was my first birthday. Rosemary had sex with Beelzebub ON MY BIRTHDAY. Lovely.)

So Nosy proceeds to COME INTO MY HOUSE, because of course she is still friends with the previous owners and wants to point out things such as the fact that I have an herb garden in my backyard that I never knew about. And the tile on the windowsills is specific to our house since the owners' grandson did it. And he's some kind of tile whiz, don't you know? Well, THAT, in addition to being a Harvard grad.

Lady. I look like shit. I feel like shit. I was enjoying my conversation with my best friend and you interrupted it. I'm highly aware of the fact that my husband may accidentally come strolling in here in his underwear. WOULD YOU PLEASE LEAVE?

But we all know I'm a big fat chicken who was raised to be polite and social, so I let her go on. And on. And so forth.

Then she asked to speak to MB. Um, ok, let me go get him.

He was in the middle of shaving but quickly dressed and came out to say hello.

The REAL reason for this pop in...

"Hello (Mr. Blogger)! Listen, don't park your van on the street. I can't see when I have to back out." (Notice, no "please", no "could you", no "I would appreciate it if...".

Ah ha! So SHE'S the one who left the anonymously typed note on his windshield months ago, asking him to park it in the driveway, because he was in violation of the Homeowners' Association rules. And sure enough, after doing so to meet HER needs, we get a letter in the mail FROM the Homeowners' Association saying to park it on the street. NOT the driveway. Or else we'll be in violation of blah blah blah.

It's his freakin' company car lady. He drives it back and forth every day to work. It's only the size of a regular van, not some behemoth tractor trailer or something. Since YOU don't want it on the street...and THE ASSOCIATION doesn't want it in the driveway...and his company would prefer he not leave it in some abandoned parking lot...what would you recommend?

She was JUST SHOCKED to hear about the letter we got saying it could not be parked in the driveway. I even told Miss Nosy how I called to clear this up since SOMEONE had written us a note telling us the exact opposite. So she told him to park it across the street. Sure, in front of SOMEONE ELSE'S house.

We smiled and nodded and MB said he'd do his best. But come on! Telling someone not to park their vehicle in front of their home because it inconveniences you in some manner?? I should probably also point out that there is so little traffic on our street, I can't imagine who it is she's "not seeing" when she backs out.

If anyone has some mammoth motor home or something and would like to help me be petty...give me a shout. I have a the perfect parking space for you.

"We have NO IDEA where it came from! It's not ours."