WARNING

WARNING: This may just be (hopefully) the most bitchiest, whiniest, longest blog of my entire life. Read at your own risk:

I AM MOVING OUT.

It's official. . . Merwin St. (my current place of residency) has actually made it to the top most insane things i've ever experienced in my life. I have been avoiding writing about it for so long because, honestly, I don't even know where or how to begin.

I guess I could start with the fact that is basically feels like I live at a crowded dog pound (although the dogs are treated better there than they are here). People get dogs around here as if they are some sort of yard decorative fixture. Although don't you have to have a "yard" to decorate first? It's all just concrete space fenced off around the front door. They aren't even guard looking dogs, they are mostly just white yappy little guys. If it's not the little pouffy one barking his tail off constantly at his un-attentive owners (and I do mean constant - 3pm or 3am, he doesn't sleep apparently), it's one of the pit bull puppies next door crying for SOME sort of attention (or maybe its just crying for some sort of shelter from the sun? Or water? Which reminds me, does anyone know the number to the ASPCA?) There used to be a white dog across the street when they first got it, but now there is a grey dog. I have a sneaking suspicion it's the same dog, just really dirty. Sometimes I wonder if they don't pay attention to it (and I mean EVER) because they think it's not even their dog?
"What happened to our white dog?"
"I don't know, but keep that dirty mutt that comes into our 'yard' out of our house!"
Then again, they must know it's theirs, because sometimes they shove it into a tiny (I imagine hot as hell) dog house and board up the entrance... Maybe they do care about it and don't want it to get stolen? (Again, ASPCA # anyone?)

Maybe people just don't have the time to take care of their dogs, because they are too busy working or caring for their children? NOPE. Not here. It's been several times now that I've seen kids almost die (hit by cars standing in the street, falling from their balconies trying to climb the fences/etc.) from not being watched properly by their parents (who are standing in crowds blasting music from their cars and checking themselves out in the rear view mirrors).

There is also a fiesta BBQ gathering almost EVERY day of the week that includes lots of loud obnoxious music, guys standing around YELLING at each other (maybe to hear each other over the music?) and plenty of BBQ and Booze. That normally starts at about 8am and lasts on and off throughout the night.

The music from either them or the Car-Music-Party-Goers is usually loud enough that I need headphones to hear whatever I happen to be listening to, and I can feel it shaking my place/rattling my dishes on the shelves.

That said, not everyone on this block stays at home and slicks back their hair all day. . . The people who DO get up (early as hell, btw) make it VERY obvious that they have to go to work at 6am, because as soon as they roll up in their cars to pick up their buddies, it's HONKKK HONK HONKKKKKKKK for hours. Does anyone know that doorbells exist even? I really don't think they do.

When it's not the cars honking at each-other/for their pickups, it's the mexi-cart guy who brings food on a little cart up and down the street at LEAST twice a day. He walks down past each house, stopping every 20 feet or so, CONSTANTLY honk honk honking his horn to get people to come buy food (which rarely anyone does). I took a video of it today just to prove that I am not exaggerating:

The pigeons have their own story to tell (see previous post about pigeons). Although we've boarded them out of the attic/crawl spaces, they still like to hang around the doors/windows all morning/day and make the loudest, CREEPIEST noises ever. I can't tell if they are mating or dying. Not a pretty sound to wake up to, but I'd gladly take it over the honking any day.
There's been several times now where the entire block is completely lit up by helicopter cops searching or busting down on the Gang house that is around the corner. Not very comforting to come home to, let me tell you.

These are only a few of the unbelievable events that take drive me to the edge on a daily basis. I hate to be SO harsh on my own neighborhood, but this is absolutely mental. I have never experienced such a constant state of chaos in my life that lasts such a long amount of time. I can remember about three days in the last four months that I've lived here where I didn't need to concentrate on relaxing and breathing past all of the stress going on around me.

I love my space. The actual apartment that I live in. It's such an amazing setup and my landlords are absolutely sweet hearts. The garden is beautiful (although I rarely want to step outside to enjoy it for all of the above reasons). So what am I doing about it, you ask? I am doing what I should have done from the start: Moving to the beach. That's right! I live in CA, and I have no reasons right now to be further inland, so why the hell shouldn't I live where I can ride my bike everywhere, surf the ocean every day, and sink my feet into the sand each morning and night. Not to mention, people smile at you there rather than smashing your car with their walking cane (don't ask) or giving you that "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT" glare.

Santa Monica, and a much more relaxed and happy spirit, Here I come.