Last weekend a film crew came to our house to interview me for a documentary about prematurity. This film company was totally on the up-and-up (unlike say, SpohrTV, which is straight-up gorilla), so they went around to our neighbors to ask for permission to film (as required by the county). All I could think was, “Great! We are brand new to the ‘hood, and all our neighbors will know us as THOSE people!” I’m not sure what THOSE people means, but it sounds very labeled and misunderstood. The good news is that 100% of our neighbors OK’d the filming, so we are surrounded by laid-back cats. The more…interesting…news is that all the neighbors now have my blog address.

So hello neighbors! Yes, we are the ones that a film crew followed around the neighborhood last weekend. Yes, they brought a twenty-foot cargo truck with them. I’m sorry about that. On the plus side, some of your kids followed the film crew around, so perhaps they have new and exciting career aspirations!

Maybe you’ve walked by my house around 2pm, otherwise known in this house as “dance hour.” You probably can’t tell from the street, but our front room is totally empty. It’s the perfect space to blast music and dance around with my 19-month old. We also kick a soccer ball around in there. The fireplace is the goal, and my daughter is a TERRRRRRIBLE goalie. I score on her every time.

You should know that if you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, you might see me naked. I’m not one that normally cruises around unclothed, but I often seem to find myself in situations where people see my private bits. Like yesterday morning, for example. I needed to dewrinkle a sundress, so I rolled into the garage where the dryer is. I accidentally hit the garage door opener instead of the light. I managed to stop the door after it had raised a few feet, but not before I shrieked like I’d just seen how many gray hairs were growing in my roots (SO MANY!). Since it was twenty minutes before school started, I’m pretty sure a few of you were walking with your kids on the sidewalk. Sorry about the impromptu learning experience!

If you come to my house, the odds of me having something delicious to eat are LOW. However, the probability of me making you a delectable drink is HIGH. Some background – I am a reformed party girl. After college, I worked at a bar, where I honed my drinking and hosting abilities. Once, I entered a beer drinking contest against a tourist from Samoa.

class seeping out of my pores

She won.

Now I have the occasional beer or glass of wine with a meal. But, I know what tastes good, and nothing would make me happier than to whip you up a tasty drink, dear neighbor! I have fruit trees in the backyard! Can I make you some sangria, or possibly a margarita with fresh limes? WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH ALL THIS FRUIT?!

In conclusion, I am available to walk your dog, grab your mail, and send my husband to feed your cats. I can’t do that, I’m super-allergic.

I just know we are going to be lifelong friends!