the papergirl

No skateboards.
No skooters.
But no superballs? Seriously are they saying do not bounce your tiny ball outside?  

Come on.  Come on.   Come on.  Come on - y...

We might as well say, no fun whatsoever.

First few months here in Nazi American, aka Townhouse heaven/hell - to say I've been stifled and frustrated is an understatement.   I love/hate it so very much.
All I care one bit about is Boy and Girl and their providable happiness and so I considered moving, suing, crying, running, fighting and moving/crying some more over skateboards, skooters, bouncy balls, when it truly sank in that rules were not meant to be broken, here at least.
    
Because nothing is ever perfect, I decided to join em rather them beat em for now and this meant getting involved  and it meant things like delivering the monthly news letter, which in my case includes shoving it under doormats, delivered via skateboard with a 10 year old boy of course.   

Tonight, a day later,  last block undelivered stack of newsletters rested on my counter waiting.  

My houseguest went to bed and I went to work.

Big dog and I, long, long after dark, stack of papers, solo cup in hand, half digested Tirmasu in my tummy, caffeine in my blood and oodles of confidence coursing through me, until I realized that walking up to strangeers doors to slip a piece of paper under their Welcome Mat at nearly midnight would become my own private reality show, all live, all real, all the while...
There are cats in the bushes, correction, were cats.
Sometimes people have lives and leave their nearly grown teenagers home with a handy-dandy gallon of Minute Maid and vodka.
Some adults go to bed early or late or not at all.
Fights are had, blinds and windows are open - Oh my.
Silence surrounds us. 
Silence is broken.
For big dog, just so many things to pee on.
For me, not necessarily a tube top but strapless just the same, does not go well with a leash, 100 lbs of aggression and fistful of newsletters in the dark, Solo cup long discarded, (whomever, forgive me).
Not everyone has a welcome mat.
Security lights are not in fact all that helpful.
Car alarms stink.
I love the night sky.
I feel terribly happy.
I feel terribly alone.
I wish someone was with me.
I'm glad no one is watching.
I hope that I never have to do this again,
I may always volunteer to do this very thing.

Once finished I realize it was the most fun I've had in a long time, delivering the news in the middle of the night to middle class America.
I don't know if thats a good thing or  a bad thing, likely both.

This is your local News carrier (literally) 
Stay Classy 
California...