Am I a bad person? I wondered this yesterday after this little incident with my neighbor Oblivia. Oblivia is creeping me out.
Yesterday was a long day, granted, and I had slept badly the night before. We were having that tornadic weather and I do not sleep well during storms. I know I had some sleepwalking episodes.
Yesterday after work, I meander home, ready to sit on my butt and do nothing but watch Judge Judy and maybe catch some CNN. But instead I went outside to water my plants and grass. I find now that it relaxes and rejuvenates my spirit. Usually.
I noted that the birdfeeder was empty and I needed to clean out the birdbath. I also did a little clean-up and got a lot of useless crap off my porch. I�m aiming for tropical paradise, not urban squalor.
I checked my roses for aphids, checked my banana plant for a new leaf (there wasn�t one) and unceremoniously plopped myself down in my so-chic hunger green plastic chair on the porch. I was really enjoying the beautiful sunny day, and it was uplifting to listen to the squeals of laughter from the kids playing basketball. I closed my eyes and let the beauty of the day carry me.
Sandy and Iris came outside about the same time. They called me over to yap. We decided it was time to plant Ms. Iris� remaining flowers. I got to work digging, planting and fertilizing the plants. Ms. Sandy gave me some direction on where to put the last few. Hard job that was. Iris� grandkids watered the ground cover we put down last week. It�s finally coming up. Yay!
It was like an emotional eclipse. Oblivia came home in the middle of the project and I could literally feel her looking at me. I was instantly uncomfortable because even if I don�t see her I sense her. As she got out the car, the sound of Megadeth (?) blasted out. As usual, she was wearing a very short black skirt and walked like she had something to advertise. I quickly went back to my task before she could meet my gaze.
Oh, but she honed in on me right away. Oblivia sauntered over across the lot to where I was on my hands and knees, my hands buried up to my knuckles in less than healthy soil.
I�m noticing her black hair has lost luster and looks greasy.
�Planting some new flowers, eh?�
�No, I�m creating a design that the mothership will see� I silently replied. I didn�t meet her gaze.
�Oh, yeah, that�s what I�m doing. Planting flowers,� I told her, this time I sat back on my haunches and wiped the dirt off my forehead, and gathering the courage to finally look at her. I�m wishing now I�d never told her that I�m a spiritual person interested in learning about other religions, especially Wicca. Mentally, I�m kicking my own ass for ever opening up to her.
I�m thinking she may be involved in something much darker than Wicca, and I�m very sure it�s not in the light. She has a darkness around her that terrifies me. It makes me wonder if she weaseled her way into talking to me so that she could screw with my mind. Maybe I�m just being paranoid�.
She peered at me with those unsettling dark-ringed eyes. They are so dark; they appear to be black. On a pale white girl, that is scary. I�m not kidding, they pierce you in a cold, shivering sort of way, and I�m sure if you are not a strong person, they could reduce you to a sniveling heap without her even saying a word to you.
My guess is that she became bored with the lack of interesting conversation, or else she was irritated with the presence of two bright ones, Iris and Sandy. She just walked off, and as I planted another impatience in the ground, the sound of her clacking black high heels seems to bounce off the wall in front of me and it hurt my ears.
I went back to my place and decided to take a rest outside in my chair. Oh, no, I hear Oblivia�s kids coming. They are just so damn loud. I don�t know how their neighbors deal with it. If they aren�t all yelling at each other then they�re stomping or crying.
Her hellions come down the stairs. Oh, no, I�ve been spotted. Before I can get up, the hellions rush over to harass me. I have to tell one of them 4 times to get off my grass because it�s new grass and it�s weak. They show me some bugs they captured.
Oblivia clomps down the stairs with the grace of an elephant. She casts a shadow over everything and sidles on up to my porch.
�Men, they�re good for nothing but their peckers.� Yup, nice thing to say in front of your kids. Especially when you are talking about your extremely na�ve boyfriend.
�Yeah, uh, true.� I�m at a loss for words. I didn�t want to get stuck in a man-hating session with her. It was fully in the realm of possibility that she would weasel her way into my house and her kids would destroy it while she lightly chattered over the noises of glass breaking and wood splintering.
I behave in a cooler-than-usual fashion and she says, �We�re going to the playground. We�ll be back down here in a little bit.� Why is she telling me? I wonder as she walks away.
Despite the brief scariness it is glorious outside. I sit for a while and then I called Ms. Iris and asked her if I could have my steam-cleaner back. My carpet is looking gross. Jackie�s not here right now so I really don�t have an excuse.
Ms. Iris grandson delivered it, and I set it inside the front door. I wasn�t planning on doing this right away, but maybe I�d get inspired later.
I step back outside and just as I finish my cigarette I hear the familiar voices of Oblivia and her her spawn. It probably looked silly, but I hauled my big booty up out of that chair (I rose like Lazarus) and went inside. Thankfully, like the angel of death, she passed my door. Relief.
*I�m wondering if I�m a horrible person for avoiding her. I mean, how do you tell someone, �You give me the creeps. I don�t like you. Stay away,� without attracting some serious problems?
You give her an inch, she takes a mile. I�m going to have to think about this. She has some real pain-in-the-butt potential.
Lately, when I come home, I�m starting to feel like I�m being watched. If I look up to the window of her apartment I see nothing. I�m even more disturbed to find she had her car repossessed and I don�t really know when she�s home. It makes me wonder if she still has a job and still has her sanity even.
She�s on meds, but most of the population isn�t psychotic, and they�re on meds too.
Oblivia is brimming with anger and bitterness. It�s not something I want to be around. I also admit I got my own issues right now so I can�t save her. She has to do it herself. Leaning on a neighbor you really don�t know would be just her style.
No thanks.
She�s giving me a serious case of the willies.
Even the other neighbors are worried about her children and what goes on in that place. They think she�s a weirdo too.
2:39 p.m. - 2003-05-08
Recent entries:
What you missed - January 16, 2012
%%older_entries%%From hell - October 19, 2010
%%older_entries%%a rant from a few weeks ago - August 17, 2010
%%older_entries%%Tired - June 20, 2010
%%older_entries%%A beautiful lie - March 11, 2010
%%older_entries%%
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
bluemeany
idontpretend
whinerwoman
flicka
kungfukitten
awittykitty
artofliving
thegrapevine
trancejen
chicagojo
ingridwrites
bettyford
myexodus
janie12975
vickithecute
drahmaqueen
ruachadonai
bipolarchild
thedetails
irisheyes70
sunshine0221
sallydallydo
allykitty5
dragprincess
tuckandsophi
taken-by-you
pajamamama
soulstyce
biodtl
thedevlyn
erianne1
jackprague78
r-y-r
nimiiwin
wifemotherme
boxx9000
poolagirl
marlen816
wilberteets
mom-on-roof
mpeacock
arianstar
thecrankyone
kayemess
amblus