Thursday, August 28, 2008


To: Older man who jogs around Capitol Park every morning
Re: Attire

Every morning you run past me on your daily jog. You wear running shoes, but the rest of your clothes are street-ready -- dress slacks, a collared golf shirt, a belt. Do you not have sweats or shorts or something else to wear to run in? Some of your shirts are so worn that I can nearly see through the fabric.

On top of this, you look like the guy in the Six Flags commercials. So much so that it freaks me out a little.

To: Boo
Re: Quit yelling

Every morning it's the same thing: you scream at me until your can of wet food is opened and put out for you. Every morning. I can't go to the bathroom, I can't let Daisy out or get the newspaper first. Well, I can -- if I want to listen to your screaming for that much longer.

Have I ever once not fed you in all these years? No. Have I ever forgotten, or had some other focus once out of bed beside feeding you? No, I haven't. Not that it matters.

To: Crying Yelling Neighbor Lady
Re: Early to rise

The only mornings I don't wake up when you do are when I have the A/C or heat on. Otherwise, your crack-of-dawn yard puttering, complete with the dragging about of patio furniture and running of hoses, is more reliable than my alarm clock.

Why you don't do whatever it is you're doing out there at a decent hour of the day, I'm not sure. But what I really don't get is what you're doing in the garage. With the door wide open, you heave enormous heavy things in and out of the trunk of your car every day. I can hear you grunting with the effort of lifting them, whatever they are.

Are you hauling off the bodies of your victims? Do you moonlight as a bricklayer? If whatever the things are that you're toting around are so heavy, why don't you just leave them in there?

To: J Crew
Re: Knock it off

Just stop it already with your fall catalogs shot in Prague or where ever and your sales and your bracelets with acorns on them and your argyle socks.

Your jackets, while adorable, are overpriced, as are your flats. I love your jewelry, but it too is ridiculously expensive.

I will not fall prey to your siren song this season. I won't I won't I won't.


Stacy said...

your little old man picture has made my morning.

Unknown said...

I love memoranda days! :)

Anonymous said...

I am thoroughly fascinated by crying/yelling/swearing lady next door -- and I have been for some time.

It certainly isn't because I lack my own colorful (read: Crazy New York) neighbors. But she's different. I may, in fact, be obsessed with her.

Do you think we can get Shu to set up some kind of 24-hour web cam so we can all piece together what her deal is? It could be its own blog or a sister blog of some kind. Hers is a story that needs to be told, I am convinced...