2003-06-23 - 6:56 p.m.
Won't you be my neighbor?
I’ve never lived in a place where I knew my neighbors. College dorm rooms excepted, of course. Even growing up, we didn’t have relationships with our neighbors. When I moved into my first apartment out of college, my mother kept asking if I had met anyone in my building. No, I answered, and I have no desire to meet them either. Same in my second apartment. I hated my upstairs neighbors SO MUCH in my last place; they were loud and they stomped.
But my neighbor here is a nice guy. He set me up so I’m on his high-speed online account via a wireless network. He took me on a tour of the campus yesterday. Today he knocked on my door to tell me he was on his way to return the wireless router (it’s been sucking for him because he has a Mac) and he asked me if I needed anything at Kmart or the mall. Very nice.
Talking to my neighbor makes Mom feel better about the whole thing. She’s always reluctant to leave her baby in a place where she doesn’t feel secure, so she likes the fact that my neighbor is around and that she’s met him and he’s nice and he’s older and he knows how to fix cars and he knows how to fix computers. It’s a comforting feeling for me, too, because I like to be able to go to someone and ask for help. If I ever get locked out, I know I can hang in his place.
He needs a name. Photo Guy, I guess, because that’s what he is.
I also got off my social ass and made plans for tonight. I called some people on the listserv and arranged pizza and beer. Photo Guy is coming too, which is awesome. And, uh, at the moment? It’s, uh, just me and three boys.
I called the girls! I swear! They’re all working!
But yay! Going out! Having fun! Time to beat the lonelies…
