Home Sweet Homicide...

Dear Blog,

Please forgive me - I completely forgot you existed. My bad, b! Anyway, a ton of stuff has been going on lately. Probably the most important was redecorating Philip's house to make it look more like a sexy bachelor pad and less like a bunker where a serial killer might sleep. It was a smashing success, if I do say so myself. All part of 'Philip Wife Quest 2010'. He'll thank me once Miranda Kerr shows up unexpectedly and declares her deep love of online poker and beards.

The second most important thing that's happened since I forgot about you is that Jame-o and I FINALLY found a place to live. As you know (because, naturally, you know), our lease ends August 31st and we were well on our way to being hobos, riding the rails with little handkerchief knapsacks slung over our shoulders and soggy half-smoked cigars dangling from our lips.

yeah. kinda like that.

It had been almost 2 hours into our search and I was about to give up all hope and start looking up recipes for canned beans, when we turned the corner and there it was. The cutest little house you ever did see. Yellow with a front porch and a crepe myrtle tree in the front yard, bay windows in the front, 2 chimneys, stained glass, a fenced in backyard. I'm hyperventilating at this point, so we call the number on the sign and set up an appointment to see it the next day.

Love.

Like the kind of love that only comes with hardwood floors and a claw foot tub.

So, needless to say, we asked where to sign and I've since been mentally decorating during all of my waking hours. The only issue with this house (excuse me: with this DREAM HOME), is that it's in Grant Park which is about a 2 day's journey from my office. The other issue is that Grant Park is a leeeetle bit close to the prison and, in some spots, a bit dicey. But it's also where the Zoo is and, please, like anything bad ever happened when there was a panda around!

Aaah! See also: Amazing!

So, last week Jame-o and I were talking about the move and I was all a-twitter, smiling and laughing and he turned to me with his brave protector face on and said, "Now, I know that you're excited about this house, but just remember that you'll probably get murdered."

me: excuse me?

Jame-o: I just want you to be aware because I worry about you...but you're for sure dead meat.

Now, I should probably mention that 2 years ago (on the opening day of the Beijing Olympics), our apartment was broken into and pretty much all of our stuff was stolen. Since that day, every time I unlock my front door I mentally prepare myself for all of my shit to be gone again.

I'm essentially operating at Level Orange on the Terror Threat Scale every minute of my life.

It's a pretty crap way to live. But I wasn't scared to live in Grant Park. That is, until Jame-o really drove it home, essentially implying that I'll be beaten to death by al qaeda members as I'm bringing in my groceries.

Jame-o: I don't want to upset you, but you should know that you are almost definitely going to get beheaded while doing your VO5 hot oil treatment in the new house

me: good talk, buddy

So, now I'm at Threat Level Magenta and am ready to move back in with my parents. I decided to let Google help me overcome my fear.

Here's what it gave me when I asked about the hood:

DEF not scared of this one. In fact, I was this slute for Halloween 2 years running in college.

Here's what it said when I mentioned the packs of wild, rabid dogs:

come on, even I'M not scared of that!

Roaming gang activity returned this little gem:

there are no words. only gang signs.

See, nothing to be afraid of. Except maybe pandas. And, as the people who just moved into the apartment above us proceed to have loud, raucous sex for the second night in a row, I'm beginning to think I'll take my chances.

Hood rich.

Love,

k8