Everyone has a #@$^% boyfriend!

It seems the single life is not agreeing with boy 1. He just isn't getting enough, and what he is getting is taking up way too much of his valuable. For instance, today he had to chat up eight different girls and at 9 PM he is sitting with his married guy friend on the porch with a beer and his cell phone (which ain't ringing). From what I have gathered, the point of starting with 8 lucky ladies is so that you can ascertain which one is most likely to go to bed with you later in the evening. However, when you have a job and friends, this takes up a substantial amount of time and energy. I mean really, who wants to be chatting up girls when you could be getting drunk with the guys?

Now, when he was in a relationship he had to beat them off with a stick (or so he says). Amy (who has slept with both boy 2 and 3) texted him all the time with good offerers. Now she has a boyfriend. Everyone, it seems, has a man.

It is nice night for the porch and I have been feeling a bit nostalgic lately. I have been here for almost nine years. That seems like such a long time when I say it out loud but it feels like no time has passed.

I still smile when I see the peak on the house and laugh about the B&E Barb, Betty and I did to see the inside. (If it's unlocked is it really a crime?) I smile when I remember Anna helping me paint and how we both ignored my father's advice by not putting the second coat of paint on the ceiling. I smile when I think of the first "girls' nights" in the living room, of Isaiah's and Ivy's igloo, of Sara's and Matt's first visit and of my grandmother's one visit. I smile when I think the day Eric moved in and we threw all the crap out.

Things have changed -- some for the better and some for the worse. There are some things I miss.

I miss Flo and Don who lived next door. They had been together forever and had lots of kids and grandkids -- so many they had to rent a hall for holidays. One of their sons was in a punk band. He always loved my Dead Milkmen shirt. Flo used to make extra food and bring it over. I am pretty sure she felt bad for me knowing I have no culinary skills. She also made a mean vodka lemonade. Don was a golf pro who gave lessons to housewives and businessmen. He always said he could teach me to golf -- but that is an impossibility. He was also great with the one liners. When we got our new trash cans (for the automated system) he screamed "you could fit a body in there!" He made special trips to Sam's Club to buy huge bins of dog treats. Loki and Harley lost about 10 pounds each when they moved.

I miss John walking his mean little Sheltie every day and night. He would walk her over to see Don and Flo. The men would talk about the good old days and the dog would torment Harley and Loki. John passed away and his son walks the dog sometimes.

I miss my neighbor's late dogs Frick and Princess. They both lived here before me. Princess was the momma and Frick the "truck dog." When Frick passed David got drunk and sang songs to her until 3 am. She was his best friend.

I miss the little boys who used to come randomly hug you in the driveway.

I miss the idiot who used to drive his home-made Go Cart around the block with a beer in his hand.

I guess that is the thing about neighborhoods. They have a life and a history. I like mine.