Wednesday, August 31, 2005

A Burrito Would Have Been Nice. Sniff.

Apparently, our neighbors don't like us anymore.

Last night, as the Mr. and I were heading out the door to go to dinner, four of them were congregated in front of our house talking. They said, "Hello" and G said, "How are you guys?"
"We're good," I replied. "And how are you?" G's wife turned her back to us and continued talking to the other two.

I thought it was a little strange, but didn't think too much of it. Maybe they were having an important conversation. G and I continued to chit-chat while the Mr. locked up the house. Then our neighbor across the street, S, came bounding out of his house. I waved to him, but he said nothing. And that's when G's wife said to everyone except the Mr. and I, "So, we'll see you at the restaurant?" And they all piled in their cars and took off. G did at least ask what we were up to this evening before driving away.

And then the recess bell rang.

As we got into my car, the Mr. said, "Did you hear that? They're going to dinner without us."
"I know! WTF?"
"It's a little weird."
"Did we do something?"
"Not that I know of."
"We're fun, right? I thought we were cool."
"I thought so, too."
"Why do they hate us?"
"They don't hate us."
"No, I'm pretty sure they do."

At this point, I was near tears, because I am adrift in a river of PMS and everything is magnified times 1,000. Normally, I'd be wounded but otherwise fine. The kicker was learning they were going to have MEXICAN. I love Mexican! Stuff wrapped in stuff and topped with cheese. What's better than that? Why didn't they just throw me to the ground and kick my prostrate body? As it happens, we wouldn't have been able to go if we had been invited, but still. It's the principle of the thing.

The Mr. and I went 'round and 'round over dinner, licking our wounds, trying to sort out why this happened. Actually, I was the one obsessing over it and licking my wounds, and he was listening politely. He didn't seem to take it personally, but I absolutely was. Our block was, I thought, fairly close. We all know each other. I think all our neighbors are pretty bitchin' people. We've had barbecues together, they came to our housewarming shindig in January. We talk when we see each other outside. They often invite us to things, but last night, we were shut out. We're not best pals or anything, but I was under the impression that we all enjoyed one another's company.

"Maybe they forgot about us," the Mr. said.
I wanted to say, "Forgot? But our house is RED. You don't forget about the people in the maroon house. Maroon will not be ignored." Our house doesn't boil bunnies, nor does it kidnap children and take them to amusement parks, it should be noted.

That's when the Mr. suggested I drop hints such as, "I'm off on Wednesday nights! Allll alonnnnne, yep." I declined to do that, because not only does it sound like some kind of really inappropriate come-on, but that's just sad, dropping hints in a bid to be invited. Beggars can't be choosers, I know, but I'd still rather be invited because our presence is wanted, not because someone is taking pity. Also, I said, there are a great number of nights where I'd rather be alone or just spend time with him. If I drop hints that I want to be invited, and then we do happen to be invited on a night when we'd just rather not, it makes it a little more difficult to say no.

So, what it boils down to is that a) I am impossible and b) I want to have my Mexican and eat it, too.