Friday, August 17, 2007

Crazy Neighbor In The Pokey

I would love to find the humor in this, but... I just can't quite make fun of my crazy neighbor right now. Well, I can. But I don't really want to. Even if she does call me a rhubarb-stealing whore.

My crazy neighbor was arrested yesterday and is currently in jail. She was served with my temporary restraining order yesterday morning, and promptly came into my yard (a no-no when there's a restraining order in place), and when I asked her to leave, she hit me (don't get too riled up. She's 82; I take harder whacks in hockey, for instance, from the baaad Beaver in May) and spit on me (ew. nasty.) and screamed and shouted and generally made it clear that her mental condition is not really top notch. The hardest part of her wigging out was not smacking her when she spit on me (at one point I made a fist, forced myself to loosen it, and... wagged my finger at her. Lame, and a little odd, but better than punching her). It just seemed wrong (even if it was within my legal rights) to beat up a mean, crazy old lady. It's all pretty sad (and on the me-me-me front, it's likely to be a pain in the ass).

Actually, there is some humor. The county jail called my mom yesterday. Because my crazy neighbor had listed my mom as a character reference. Smaaaht.

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