2001-06-18 / 6:26 p.m.

~Livin' in the 'hood~

I have this sort of "Rear Window"ish relationship with whoever lives in the apartment building perpendicular to mine. For the first few years I lived here I never saw the blinds raised, much less open, and understandably so, but there is a high turnover, especially in that building, the only building with studios. So there's this one window, on the side of the building, that could potentially allow a good view into my apartment, the only view into my apartment, really, through my screened porch, and subsequent sliding glass doors.

I seldom, basically never anymore, close my vertical blinds, so really this person, living there in that apartment, with that good view (good?) into my world, could look, but at what? I don't run around naked, I don't sit naked, I don't scratch my ass or pick my nose, I make sure to be doing not a whole lot in that part of the apartment, just in case this person is looking.

And, as I say, the first few years the blinds were always closed.

Lately, in the past couple months or so (new tenant?) the blinds are up, sometimes ALL the way up, sometimes just opened, slats wide, and I don't know who's there, seeing me, or if he/she is looking, and I might assume it's he, rather than she, by the very simple fact that once, for a week or so, there was a pair of boxer/briefs hanging on a hanger on this person's porch. Lovely.

This morning I stepped out, on my way to my car, to work, and there on the porch of said apartment is a person, and automatically I looked away. I couldn't bring myself to find out who this person is, who is it who raises his blinds to see me (sure, it's just for sunlight, nudge, nudge, wink, wink), couldn't bear to even peek, but I thought, oh, great, he's watching me, he'll be stalking me now, he knows when I leave, when I return, my habits, he's going to murder me, after raping me first, of course.

Why should I think that? Because no one here is friendly, and few people besides myself are white. I feel an outcast, conspicuous, a target. It's stupid, I know, but I have suffered racial prejudice, discrimination, and I feel uncomfortable, sometimes.

I came home at lunch, and the blinds were all the way up, like the maintenance people put them when they're cleaning out an empty apartment, the electricity turned off, no light save for window light, open them to let in the most. But this was because he knew I was gone, to work, not around to look in at HIM.

After work, I try to drive through the parking lot, just to pull into a parking space, and there are some people walking back from the pool, making no effort to get out of my way, I driving up behind them, slowly, wanting to honk, wanting to run them down, outraged at their insolence, the one in back turning to eye me, with his wannabe rapper walk, his glare (what? to frighten me?). Finally, I pull in and I laugh, I'm laughing, loudly, and I hope they hear, because their slight was so purposeful, and because I'm white and they're black, and if I were black too they would have moved.

I come in, and solace, comfort, wash over me. As long as I am inside I am fine, all's right with the world, and I can close my vertical blinds over the sliding glass doors and the voyeur cannot see me as I sit and do whatever it is I do.

Unrelated: why does Norma throw up after she eats....sometimes? Hairball? Poor thing - I managed to coax her off the carpet and into the kitchen, Here, Norma, throw up on the linoleum please. Great! Thanks so much!

Related: how is it that Gladys has broken whiskers....sometimes? Are they brittle? Does she need some whisker strengthening gel applied? Is it okay for her whiskers to break off? Doesn't she need them, like for night navigation or something?

Unrelated: aren't I more interesting when I'm involved in some horrid relationship with a member of the opposite sex?

Related: I think about what happened with Steve, at least once a day, and I probably will for...um......maybe another few days. Certain wisdom comes to mind: Don't ever look up anyone from your past. Leave the past in the past - that's where it belongs. And: When someone says, "Run from me!", do it. Run! Believe a man when he says he is trouble. Don't say, "Oooooo, I love trouble!", just believe that he is a sick freak who cannot possibly relate in a healthy way to women, may even be a misogynist, and RUN, as he suggests.

More: it feels like it never happened, except I feel a tremendous relief, still, sort of an, "I'm so glad that went away!" kind of feeling, so I know it did, almost happen. But, it feels more like I dreamed it, like it was a nightmare I had a week and a half ago - I look up Steve, on the 'net, send some email to someone I think is him, he responds, a month later, he says I should run, so I am drawn in, naturally, we talk, for hours (wait 'til I get the bill!! yikes!), we end up in some bizarre email war, and he loves me, he hates me, he loves me, wait, he's a FREAK! Thank god it was only a dream.....whew!!!

Cost of the War in Iraq
(JavaScript Error)

Run, Kitty, Run!

Previous - Next

New - 2012 - 2009 - 2008 - 2007 - 2006 - 2005 - 2004 - 2003 - 2002 - 2001 - Profile - Contact - Notes - Rings - Diaryland - Favourite Entries - ReadMe - Surveys - Random Entry

Recent Entries:

It Was 40 Years Ago Today - 9:44 a.m. , Friday, Oct. 12, 2012

Dead Black Cat - 9:07 a.m. , Wednesday, Jan. 25, 2012

As Seen From Outer Space - 1:07 a.m. , Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009

I Survived to Tell the Tale - 7:29 a.m. , Friday, Sept. 18, 2009

Reading My Life - 12:55 p.m. , Saturday, Sept. 12, 2009

Happy Kitty

My Diary Was Reviewed at Ms Lovejoy's - Get Yours Reviewed Too!

Registered I was a nominee