Thursday, November 22, 2007


I just arrived home to find an ugly wreath on my door. It has a big dangly stuffed bear attached, plastic berries and it's ghastly. How mysterious... And troublesome-- I don't want people (esp. the mailman whose respect I covet) to think I'm the type to put wreaths up in November. Or wreaths like that at all. But then the mailman might have even dropped it off; who knows? More likely it's one of the neighbours though-- the naked ones downstairs or the domestic disputes down in the basement (both sets are currently feuding by the way)-- and the quality of the wreath is suggestive of either of their tastes. But couldn't they have just hung the thing on their own doors? How embarrassing.

Somebody either likes us or hates us a lot.