Other People's Lives

Tiny little Dim Sum 1, my neighborhood muffin-child, was spotted with my dogs and me as we returned from a lengthy walk. His arm was in a blue cast and sling, and he wanted to pet Mustard, but as a car was about to mow both of them down, I declined. The alley next to our house has recently become a thoroughfare, largely due to construction on the road which the city PROMISED would end three weeks ago. They held a party and everything. The Hell? Also, I was concerned for little Dim Sum, and wondered what had happened. Surely not the Bouncy Castle that was installed in their lawn a few days before? It had looked so merry, and I heard screams of joy...at least I thought they were screams of joy...oh dear.

My last encounter was a little over a week ago, when Dim Sum 1 and 2 marched into my front yard, holding matching blue plastic buckets. They were hunting for flowers. Dim Sum 2 was younger, probably between 2 and 3, and ever so slightly more adorable than her brother, though it's all infinity divided by zero when calculating their cuteness. They are both entirely amazing.

I was on my hands and knees weeding my veggie garden, which was precisely the right height for conversing with muffins. Dim Sum 2 stuck an aging dandelion in my face and asked me what kind of flower it was.

"It's a dandelion." I stated, and she nodded, gravely, pulling it close to smell, and then promptly ran away.

...I want to eat her.

***

My Saudi Arabian roommate has a friend over, and they are yelling about something or other in Arabic. It's hard to tell if it's happy or angry.

I should be more specific - I currently have two Saudi Arabian roommates. One is nice, says hello, and asks me various odd questions of household basics, like 'how does one wash dishes?' and 'how do I cook a bagel?' Last night, I assisted him in making macaroni and cheese.

Neither have yet grasped the concept of opening and closing the bathroom door (close when inside, open when out), which has led to various awkwardness. I now always knock and loudly announce my entrance, which has still led to me walking in on a boy in a Onesie with a toothbrush in his mouth, smiling awkwardly. (The light was off, the door open two inches, the room entirely dark...Who brushes their teeth in the dark? Who wears a Onesie, for that matter?)

That would be my other Saudi Arabian roommate, who smiles creepily sometimes but never speaks, and walks around the house in long underwear (often an ill-fitting Onesie). I do not understand him, and he does not understand me. This makes it all the more eery that he is currently being so loud...who knew that he spoke, or emoted?

I want my own apartment.