In Search of My Marbles

I love to talk. I talk all the time: at funerals, in class, during work, in the bathroom. The list just goes on and on of the times and places I can talk in. And I talk on this blog. It's probably the reason why I started this blog, so I could have a reason to talk more. I'm sorry.

Don't hate me yet. I just got my karma back, three fold. While I have been getting karma back for quite a while, the deal was really clinched the other night. There are nights when I just want to sit on my couch, eat peanut butter M&M's, and watch Dane Cook movies. I really, really did not want to entertain.

However, our neighbor had other plans for my evening. Her name is going to be "Ann", for "Annoying, nagging neighbor." Clever, huh?

When Ann is around, everyone runs for cover. I don't even like to let my dogs out to do their business because I know she might be around, and will accost me. She is the neighbor that NOBODY likes. Nobody.

She invites herself over, eats your food and then takes all the leftovers (and, if you're really lucky, will yell at your husband when he asks to save some of the leftovers), borrows things and doesn't return them, and, worst of all, believes that everybody loves her.

Ann had borrowed an air mattress from us several months ago, when her brother came to visit. For a week. Like I said, this was months ago.

She decided a couple nights ago to finally return it, and then came inside, even though I did my best to barricade the door. Ann took a seat on the couch, and I realized that my evening would be downhill from there. It was time for "Heart to Heart With Ann."

Here is how our conversations go:

"Italkedtocoreytodayandhehasthisnewgirlfriendandshe'spregnantandhejustgotarrestedforpublicintoxicationandtheycan'taffordtheirhousesotheyhavetomoveintohisgrandpashouseandi'mjustreadytobedonewiththiswholethingbecauseiambetteroffwithouthimbecausehejustdraggedmedown."

Uh-huh.

"Andwhatdoyouthinkofrandal?Ithinkthingsaregoingwellbutheisalwaysonhisphoneandsometimeshedoesnttellmethingsandtherewasthisonetimewhenicouldntgetaholdofhimbutitdoesntmatterbecauseilovehimandwearedoingreallywell."

I bet. That's great.

"Sodoyoulikemynewhaircutithinkitmakesmelookawesomeandihaveallthesenewclothesandyoushouldletmedoyourmakeupbecausei'mreallygoodatdoingmakeupandpickingoutclothesandyoujustneedtoknowwhatlooksgoodonyourbodyanditotallydo."

Super. Well, I'm really tired.

"Howareyoudoingi'mdoinggoodjustreadyfortheweekendlastweekendiwentoavineyardinoregonandigothiswineanditissoamazingitsmadeoutofblackberriesandilovefreshpickedblackberriesafterihadfreshpickedonesijustcan'tbuythemfromastoreanymorebecausetheyarejustnotasgoodandfeellikeawasteofmoney."

I am not even ashamed that this picture has been made public. What I'm truly ashamed of is that I sat through this drivel for over an hour. Guess what the worst part is?

That at the end of the conversation, I somehow agreed to help her move with my truck. Apparently, we are also best friends. I do not remember this at all, but supposedly I rented out my services/patience for Thursday. I think I might start the day with a very large screwdriver, thus ensuring myself incapacitated myself for the rest of the day. And you really can't expect me to drive after drinking.

I am such a responsible adult.