My Neighbor and Roseanne

The other morning, at 4am, my husband and I woke up to the sounds of our drunk neighbor talking on her cell phone.

Neighbor: "Hey! Haaaaaay...Victoria, are you there? (laughter) Noooo. Yeah. I just barfed. (hard laughter) I threw up on my arm."

It was actually really awesome, despite being woken up so early. Unfortunately, this is why we can't sleep with the windows open during the week nights. I love this particular neighbor girl, but we have some real loud assholes on our street. I suppose it's not right to call children assholes, but they are assholes when it's 11pm and they are screaming at each other to "Shut the f*ck up, nigga". I feel like when this happens, I can't get involved, because I'm white, I'm lame for being in bed, I'm afraid of what they might do to my dog, and, the big one, their mother is usually nearby and would be more upset by me stepping in than her child speaking so foully. I'm so thankful my mom was intolerant of her children swearing or talking trashy. She wouldn't even let us watch Roseanne. She was thoroughly disgusted with Roseanne. Roseanne never swore on the show, but she was a loud woman with an obnoxious sounding voice. Also, her husband showed obvious desire for her, sometimes in front of DJ the boy, and that probably grossed my mom out. I wanted to be Darlene, until I realized their economic status, then I went back to wanting to be Stephanie or DJ on Full House. Looking back, I realize that would have been a highly inappropriate way to hook up with John Stamos. Or Bob Saget. Sorry Dave.

I wondered often, throughout the day following the throwing-up-on-arm event, if she had washed herself off, or if she just went to bed. I always think about those things. If she didn't wash herself, I wonder if she washed her sheets the next day. She is a cat person though, and they tend to be more tolerable of dirty sheets.