I know it’s incredibly cliché to think this but I’m fairly certain my neighbors are either running a meth lab, are fugitives, or are seeking asylum in America from inside their own home. They’ve been living next door to me for over a year and I’ve never even seen them – once. I suppose they could just be Asian – because those people are awfully quiet. I have almost seen them – once inside their car leaving and once just as they flew in the front door – and there was a shock of shiny black hair so my last deduction may be my best. How is it even possible to not see the people who live next door to you? I live across the street from famous people and you would think they’d be the ones hiding but Alan Ruck takes out the garbage on a regular basis and he’s Ferris Bueller’s best friend for crap sakes. I like thinking that something diabolic is going on next door to me – until it’s night time – and then I scare myself and hope they’re inside making syrup, or rice cakes, or both. I’m kind of a scaredy cat. I still can’t see Paranormal 2, 3 or 16. The first one scared me so badly I had to reposition my bed away from the door the way it was in the movie. I keep trying to decipher if Peaches and Tulip are seeing anything but if they’re seeing ghosts they’re not barking. Maybe their scared too. Maybe if they admit to me that they see poltergeists hiding in my drapes those poltergeists will become real. I think my biggest fear about things than can happen when I’m sleeping is that I’m woken up by my dogs barking at the curtains or an empty door frame. I’m so glad I’m not the kind of person who can see a ghost. I never want to be that person. I will be perfectly happy to live my life never seeing a big floaty figure at the end of my bed… even if that floaty figure is nice. I don’t care. Stay away from the end of my bed.
It’s also a distinct possibility that if I do have ghosts they are simply feeding the dogs to keep them quiet. Who decided that dogs should eat the exact same thing every day? Peaches is pissed and wants a menu change on a regular basis and I can’t say I blame her. If I had to eat duck, chicken, liver, and turkey all made from the same mystery meat – I’d be pissed too. Trust me when I tell you they are eating food that costs more than mine but this bitch is not happy unless she sees something new in that bowl. I spent at least thirty minutes this morning trying to think of what I’d eat if I was only allowed one food twice a day for the rest of my life and I think the answer is grilled cheese and fries with gravy and a side of Ralph’s birthday cake.
I have discovered I may in fact have a birthday cake addiction. This week at work we were writing a wedding story and part of that story was talking about cake and I got so wrapped up in the concept of cake that my poor boss and friend Dan had to stop the writers room and send little Nicola the assistant out for birthday cake. It was more than exciting for me – it was life changing. I waited for the arrival of this cake like it was a free shoe delivery from Louboutin… shoes that I could eat. I was very specific about the cake – sheet – white cake white frosting – from Ralphs. When it arrived it had three giant icing balloons. Holy fuckballs. Our writers assistant Vanessa instantly announced she was afraid of the balloons. It was all I could do not to take all three. I had two pieces and while it was good – the cake to icing ratio wasn’t quite the same as I remembered it was from the last time I forced Dan to buy me a bad sheet cake. I found out the next day that Nicola got the cake from Von’s. I’m making her move next door to me because I never want to see her again.