Our own Wisteria Lane
While our houses pale in comparison, and we even trailers on our street, and houses built around trailers and many government built 30 year old houses that are falling down around our ears – it seems that we’ve caught that Desperate feel.
Our Brie, the one with the perfect lawn, the garden that’s perfect, the perfectly behaved teenagers that they seem ok to leave alone at the house with masses of friends because they’re all well behaved and just because they were sleeping on the floor in a tangled puppy pile when they got home – they were just tired from the jobs and school activities that helps keep them perfectly well behaved. The flowers are always in bloom, the Christmas lights are taken down and put up on time without fanfair, the garden is decorated with seasonal items, and everything is – well, perfect.
Our Edie, while she is not as out and in your face as her TV counterpart, she is just as outlandish in her own way. A former pro cheerleader, she is proud to still fit in the uniform that she wears every game day, she stays awake all night with the music blaring loudly, playing pool, cooking, watching TV, dreaming of home in TX, and whatever else she does inside the confines of her home. She uses the small space between her house and another to pen her dogs close to her door, despite having more room (and a noise buffer) along the other side that would work much better for the neighbors. She remains shut in most times, but that does not stop the drama from blossoming around them.
The newest neighbors – Lee and Bob (Yes, the gays). They are raising two children, one part time, the other full time. They’re lovely ladies, and my daughter is totally enthralled with their children. They are, unfortunately, directly across from Edie, and get the full effect of the all night loud music and dogs barking, just as the next door neighbors do. They, however, have decided to fight back. Now, once the all night party has stopped and Edie is sleeping, the Newest Neighbors have decided to amp up the drama, and now open their garage door, turn on their car radio (or the inside radio, we aren’t sure) and blare the Oldies loud and proud, all day long. Some neighbors wonder why they have to be the oldies radio station – how long must we live in the 50 60s 70s and 80s for heaven’s sake? But they are fighting fire with fire… the rest of us are sure to get burned.
Who am I? I am our Lynette (mingled with a bit of Susan). I have the kids who are good kids mostly, just maybe a little excitable, and my yard is most often filled with any number of things to piss off the neighbors – toys, a toppled garbage can, a barking dog, a conglomeration of various things that have spilled out of the garage and haven’t been cleaned up yet. I’m not a good housekeeper (Hybrid Susan!), though I am something of a good basic cook, and I’ve lived on this street the majority of my life. I’m the sloppy, clumsy (I sprained an ankle by tripping on a can of green beans, after all) bitchy yet somewhat endearing neighbor that people like to nark on to the city because they’re irritated with the things in my lawn and hello, now they’re going to fine me because I told the guy to piss off. My neighbors think I’ll take it and merely mutter “I’M SO WRITING ABOUT YOU ON MY BLOG!” Or something like that. And well, they’re right -because instead of cleaning up the offending mess in front of my garage – look at me making Desperate Housewives comments instead. Ha! (I even took the quiz at abc.com – they decided I’m right, I am a Lynette. Heh.)
And for those who know that Nana lives on the street – please note I didn’t compare her to any of them. Because I am far, far, far from stupid. (grins) but if I did, she’d have to be the lovely Mrs. McCluskey, who always has a helpful word to share, and takes care of Lynette’s (my) children as needed. Now, I’m not saying that someday we’re gonna find that she’s kept Papa in the freezer for 10 years after his passing because she couldn’t bare to be alone and not have him to talk too, but she’ll just have to fill in the Mrs. McCluskey caretaker role. And it’s not just because she’s older then the rest of us either… she looks MUCH more like the younger prettier housewives then Mrs. McCluskey! Just sayin.
So – if you’d like to move into our Wisteria Lane, we are taking applications for Gabby, and Kathrine to help amp up the drama a little more. I’m also willing to take applications for a Mike and/or Tom who’d be willing to clean up the mess of my house before the city gets out their little fine-book and I tell them to piss off again.
Or, if the Desperate gods are smiling upon me – send me Gale Harold. For I’ve loved him since he was oh so fabulously gay on Queer as Folk! It’s not too much to ask, right?
6 Comments
Just so you know, that is not Gale Harold’s body. The picture is a manip. Anyone who knows Gale and saw him in QAF knows he has a slim physique that’s not as defined as the one in the picture. There are much better pictures of him.
I watched him avidly on QaF – and it is possible that he was defined like that. It doesn’t take much, really, to go from slim to ripped. *L* But either way – yum! It’s his lips I love anyway. raaaaaaaawr!
I don’t care who the body belongs to; fork ‘im over and let me borrow ‘im for a night or two. I promise to return him relatively…er…undamaged.
Somehow, Adri, I knew you were gonna say something to that effect.. *grin*
snork! snarfle! SMIRK!
You are soooooooooooooooo my kid (so papa was saying as I stuffed his (more ample than fella above) body into the freezer.
I lurve my snarky lessa, I do!
[…] Brother Craze) also has another home online. Please go and read her snarky account of life on our own little Wisteria Lane. Maybe it’s just me – and maybe it’s because I know the folks of whom she speaks, but I […]