Late Night Confessions

Its sunday afternoon and the sound of the kids laughing and playing....is being drowned out by the obnoxiously loud music coming from our neighbors apt. She's who we call the mexican spy. The other neighbors have names too; the greenhouse, the cantina, the newlyweds and shaggy (because of his mystery van that sits in front everyday). But she is special...

Months after we moved in she had a little camera installed on her front door that aims directly at the black folks across the way (that's us). She already had one pointed out to her car on the street. And most often you can find her peering out from behind her curtains or more likely, I should say, her silhouette peering behind the semi sheer curtain. And so the name goes.
It makes me giggle to write this.

Today, the mexican spy is overdosing the neighborhood on Santo, Santo because she feels as if we all need a dose. Its quite amusing how hard she is thumping her bible to it.
I am all for praise and worship. Singing to the Lord because its for Him is one thing. Trying to prove a point about what we should all be "bumping" from our tiny closely knit abodes because you don't like Dr. Dre coming from the greenhouse is another. Even Shaggy and his wife Thelma are quite in a stir because of it.

Today, though, I am not getting discouraged as before because it seems as if she needs to be washed with a wave of the Lords praise.

And quite honestly I am not going to let anything get in the way of my new chair I bought for sitting out "quietly" on a Sunday afternoon on my balcony.
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