Smokey, Smokey, Smokey

The last post may have given you the impression that I've been doing nothing but buying cute dresses to prepare myself for the tour. 

That's not at all true - it's just that I've purchased almost nothing but Champion t-shirts and mesh workout bottoms for the last year, so shopping for pretty stuff has been a delight.  (Especially since new shoes may or may not have been involved.) 

In case you're wondering, here's what I got:

Available from Nordstrom.com.

(I got these exact same shoes, only in taupe, available on Zappos.com.  They look really comfortable, but trust me, it's an illusion.)

This swirly-skirted dress comes in white, chocolate, or lilac.  I picked lilac because the beads are silver.  I got it at Vive La Femme on Damen Ave in Chicago, possibly the greatest store ever for items size 12 and up.  (Not local?  Buy it on Alight.com.)

I bought these shoes for my book events last year and will be pairing them with the lilac dress.

They are, hmm... what's the word I'm looking for?  Oh, yes, CRIPPLING.  They cause pain to shoot up my spine with every step I take.  Yet they completely dress up shorts and a polo shirt, so you can see my dilemma.

This one's available on LolaandGigi.com.  The weird thing is, I got this exact same dress in person at Nordstrom and the label says Jessica Howard Woman but the one online is by Donna Rico.  It's almost as though these dresses were all made in the same factory in China and someone simply slapped a different label on them depending on vendor.  But that would be impossible, right?  (I also got a boring white cardigan and black shrug to wear over these because I care not to expose my armpits in a formal setting.) 

Regardless, the impromptu fatty fashion fiesta was not the intended purpose of this post but it illustrates my point nicely.  I have 10,000 things yet to do, thus I have been procrastinating like crazy.  This aversion to finishing my tasks has led me directly to the internet.  Normally I'm a lurker - I read scads of blogs but never comment.  But since commenting is much more pleasant than say, reorganizing my closet or raking up the mountain of defrosted dog poop in the backyard, I've suddenly become prolific.

Because I should strive to be more prolific on my own website, I'm going to give you the long version of the key-losing-neighbor from a couple of days ago.  Here goes:

A bothersome family moved out of the house two doors down last month.  No surprise, I was thrilled to see them go.  They bugged me because they had a very nice, private backyard with lots of lawn furniture, but they preferred to gather up all their friends and family, sit on their front stoop in kitchen chairs, and shout to each other, leading to my never being able to watch TV with the windows open for two summers running.  (FYI, it took them weeks to clear out of their house because there's apparently a rule in this 'hood that you aren't allowed to rent a truck or hire a moving van and there's only so much furniture a 15 year old Chevy Malibu can transport in one trip.)

So, it's a Friday night and Fletch has his friend Hurricane Joel over for cigars and rye and Military TV programming.  After Joel goes, I pour Fletch into bed.  (No one survives a night out with Joel.  NO ONE.)  As I'm closing the curtains, I see two huge men park their big red car in the middle of the street.  I notice they start poking around a couple of the other cars up and down the block, including mine.  They don't actually put their hands on my vehicle, but they keep diving under it.  They're super loud and they've got their headlights shining directly on themselves.  I figure if they're car thieves, they aren't particularly good ones.

I attempt to rally Fletch, but all he does is mumble, "Smokey smokey smokey," into his pillow before passing out again, so it's up to me to deal with the situation.  I'm trying desperately to stop going Gladys Kravitz all over everyone's asses because it would be nice if at least someone in the neighborhood didn't hate me.  In neighborly solidarity, I let the situation play out a little longer.  The guys poke around a while more and then I see the bigger of the two guys open up a Zippo and dive under my car again. 

OK, smile and wave at people on my street in an insincere attempt to be more friendly?  Yes.  Willingly allow arson?  No.  I call the police and they arrive in record time.

The police talk to the two guys for a few minutes and then drive away, leading me to assume they aren't criminals and are neighbors who have lost something.  But what?  Maybe someone dropped a stone out of her ring while shoving a plastic potted tree in the passenger seat?  Possibly a wallet fell out of the pants riding mid-thigh on the gentleman with the bass loud enough to rattle my fillings?  Obviously the missing item was valuable enough to keep up the midnight recovery effort.  However, even if they are my neighbors, they're still strangers and I'm not about to dash out in the dark and volunteer to help.   

The two guys continue to light their lighters and dive under cars.  I watch as they leave them open long enough to get hot, then flick them closed and wave their burned fingers in the air.  Sometimes they pause, dust off their knees, and scratch their heads.  Finally, one of them opens his cell phone and uses the dial light to illuminate the ground under my car. 

This little dance goes on for FOUR HOURS.

Lighter, OWIE, cellphone, head scratch.

Lighter, OWIE, cellphone, head scratch.

Lighter, OWIE, cellphone, head scratch.

I am flabbergasted at their lack of problem solving skills.  As the night proceeds, I find a million different ways to locate the lost object myself. 

I drive to any one of a dozen all-night grocery stores in the vicinity and buy a flashlight. 

I knock on neighbors' doors, explain what I've lost, and ask to borrow a broom, rake, or shovel to scoop out the contents of what's below the cars.

I decide the missing object is a key, so I call a locksmith because the phone in my hand is more than just a very dim source of light. 

I call a friend to help.

I say, "Fuck it," and come back as soon as it gets light out.

At no point would I use my lighter on a McDonald's cup, only to be shocked at its sudden, violent incandescent, thus singeing off my eyebrows and setting fire to the brim of my hat.  I'd probably also forgive my friend for hitting me in the face in an attempt to douse the flames and would not let the situation devolve into a shove fest.  And were I to engage in these actions, I wouldn't blame my friend for screaming, "Fucking burn next time then!" either.

At this point I go to bed because the show can't possibly get any better.  But I have to sleep in the guest room at the back of the house because of all the I-burnt-my-eyebrows-off noise out front.  Also, Fletch smells like a bachelor party.

The following Monday I'm coming back from the gym and the two guys are on the street again, only this time they're busy moving furniture out of their car and into the old neighbors' house. 

Of course they are.

They call me over to say hello.  They're very friendly despite the fact they've only got one set of eyebrows between them.  We chat for a couple of minutes and I learn about the lost key, but I don't mention my having called the police.  I just smile and nod.  Look at me, what a good neighbor! 

Then one of them tries to sell me a box of meat out of his trunk. 

And I... I... I give up.  I excuse myself abruptly and dash into my house. 

Someday I'll live in a neighborhood where people don't set their hair on fire or try to sell me a trunk full of flank steaks. 

'Til then, I'll keep buying pretty dresses and uncomfortable shoes so I look nice when I get to meet you all and tell you the stories in person.

Comments

[tutugirl1345]

I thought of you last weekend when I came home and found that my neighbors had smashed SIXTEEN handles of various vodkas outside my apartment. I just love living next to frat boys.

Also, where does one find those gorgeous sandals that you find crippling? Cause I will totally take crippling to have my feet look that cute.

[Tara Ryan]

You are such a bad influence! I just went to Alight.com and spent a hundred bucks. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, several of the dresses I loved (including the brown beaded one that got me there) were way out of my price range. Maybe once I'm a successful published author...
Not sure whether to thank you or ignore your blog now, but I've got two cute dresses in the mail. :-)
Have fun on your tour! Everything is better in a pretty dress.

[blackbird]

I love the dress with the jingly stuff on the bottom. And Fletch. I love Fletch. I always have.

[The Modern Gal]

I have to say, all of my neighbors are extremely boring, which makes for extreme lack of entertainment.

[marta]

So.. planning on taking the amtrak from "Cowtown" to Chi-town on the 6th to visit daughter and see you at B&N! Woo-hoo!!I will be wearing comfortable shoes as sciatica shows no mercy...

[Sue]

LOVE the dresses. Jen- I live in the caribbean...home of the comfy but cute flip flops...they sparkle and are easy to wear...what's your size??? My feet can't stand to be in "real" shoes anymore!

[A Jill of All Trades]

I'll trade you my neighbors for yours!!! Mine like to drive 90 down a 30mph street, slam on the brakes and turn sideways only to punch the gas again to fly up their driveway.

They also like to come out at night and shoot a paintball gun about 30 times.

I think there are about 10 of them (young 20s and what looks to be "dad") who are all heathens. I've called the cops on them once since they just moved in about 2 months ago.

There has to be one house in the 'hood that neighbors are appalled by....kind of like in The Burbs.

[patricia]

For some reason I can't imagine how shoes without 4 inch heels can be crippling but I'll take your word for it. I'm not a dress girl but all of those make me want to go shopping. So you'll understand then why I'm now going to shut down the computer and walk away quickly.

[Michelle]

Hey Jen - I've heard great things about Taryn Rose shoes...maybe give them a try? I think they are at Bloomingdales, Nordstrom, and at Zappos.com.

Just as an aside...I was at my alma mater today with my daughters, and I saw these sorority gals walking to "Chapter"...they looked so cute in their dresses and sweaters draped over their backs, tied in a knot in the front :o) I swear you would SO have been the queen bee in Greek society on that campus! That place bleeds plaid and pearls - I love it!

[Ginny]

Cute dresses!!! I especially love the brown polka-dotty one! But how can those flip-flops be so painful??? Isn't the essence of flip-flops, even pretty ones, that they're supposed to be all comfy and carefree? Oh, well. Props to you for biting the bullet and wearing the cute shoes, no matter how bad they hurt. Who cares how you feel? It's how you LOOK that matters!

Thanks for elaborating on the "guys under my car with a Zippo" story. As always, you made me laugh!

Can't wait for the new book! Going to Borders tomorrow to pre-order with the gift card I received for Christmas and have been saving all this time for this very purpose!!

[Melissa]

Good to have you back, Jen. You have a gift for description (Fletch smells like a bachelor party--love that.) I am counting down the days until your book is on sale.
And I bet you'll look glorious in your pretty new dresses.