1:14 p.m. - May 31, 2003
It's too late to be couth so uncouth in disguise I will be
Shannon is supposed to call me; she's here in San Francisco and the plan is to meet up. Shannon, call me. I figure she's out running around, taking in the salt breezes and the green trees, heading towards the water. If you lived in Las Vegas and came to SF, wouldn't you?
Disturbing interaction just minutes ago as I drove into the cul-de-sac. The new - new qualified as I-haven't-spoken-to-them-yet/don't-know-their-names other than the husband's afflicted with Hairybackism and the wife is Gloriously, Pendulously Pregnant - neighbor man was outside with his daughter and I slowed down since I am a conscientious driver. I made the deliberate effort to wave in the friendly suburban manner and Mr. Hairyback looked positively stunned, I-kid-you-not looked behind him, looked puzzled, then manufactured a big wave and smile back.
This is bugging me. He is so accustomed to me being - what? Unfriendly? Reserved? Forboding? what? - me that he was thrown off by a simple neighborly wave? The real substance is how I interact with people, I know. And I swore when they moved in that I'd introduce myself, be friendly; given that there are 5 houses in the cul-de-sac I'm not expecting block parties but knowing names would be expected, right? Unfortunately I never got around to introducing myself that now it's moot given they've been here for months - at least since the fall. Were I to play neighborly now, it would be as transparent as my brother calling simply to say Hello.
No more being down. Repeat often.
It's working; this morning I wrote 9 pages. Go me.
