Nothing like crime scene tape to impress a potential roommate.

Did I say "impress"? I meant "restrain".

Yeesh, smonster.

Man, smonster, that's so hard.

It was pretty awesome, honestly. For a long time Teppy was the only person who knew the story because she was one of the few people who knew my actual last name, but now that I'm all facebook outed and you all know my name is really Kprinkle, I figured I might as well spill here.

I gotta admit, I love that story. SO MUCH.

smonster, that's awful.

If anyone ever made me a surprise baby blue cake for my surprise wedding, I'd cry like a little baby.

I gotta admit, I love that story. SO MUCH.

Hee.

smonster, eeesh. That's scary.

Liese, I love the whole thing, the loopy wedding chairs and the baby blue cake (tuxedo powder blue--perfect description).

We eloped, and I'm sure the neighbors were counting on their fingers, too. I stymied them though, by running off to live near the army post where he was stationed. And a year and a half later, my folks spread the word we were expecting. Of course then we flew off to Germany for four years.

We were always something of a mystery to the neighbors. More fun that way when they smile and squint with faint puzzlement.

Nothing like crime scene tape to impress a potential roommate.

Ah, man. How'd it go?

It sucks. I'm pretty bummed about it all. These kids - I'd be willing to bet the shooter was also no more than 20. It's heartbreaking.

So, apparently it was a kid more or less from the neighborhood, meaning Irish Channel over to and including former St. Thomas projects? And maybe a falling out among a bunch of miscreants? This is the scoop from neighbors on the block who grew up here. Who of course then went on to talk about how the problem is that parents can't beat their kids these days without them calling DCF, or whatever the acronym is here. Uh huh.

Nora, it went pretty well. He likes the house but wants to look at a couple of other places (the room is only 12X12 and doesn't have a closet); I told him I understand, but will be posting it on Craigslist tomorrow. Seems nice and quiet; of all things, he's doing an internship here with a flooring company. From France! Honestly, I hope it works out. I don't have any other options right now and it would be fun to speak some French. Hopefully that's the last time I'll have to say to him, "Je ne sais pas si tu sais, mais quelqu'un a ete tue la-bas aujourd'hui." I told him I might be willing to consider month to month, just because I need someone in there right away. I do *not* have the money to pay rent for both rooms, even for a month.

L, my other roomie, just texted me about the shooting. She's not scared off. She's an EMT and stayed here after Katrina. ...and apparently is friends with the homicide detective assigned to the case. Huh.

Just now got home from jawing with said neighbors. Time for shower and bed. I work tomorrow and then have dinner with D, his brother and brother's fiance, and D's mom! OMG wish me luck.

And maybe a falling out among a bunch of miscreants? This is the scoop from neighbors on the block who grew up here. Who of course then went on to talk about how the problem is that parents can't beat their kids these days without them calling DCF, or whatever the acronym is here. Uh huh.

"If it's the victim's fault, it can't happen to me."

This country is failing black men and boys in the most horrifying way, I don't even know how we can walk back from this.

Glad L is staying strong. New Orleans, man. It's not for the faint of heart.

"If it's the victim's fault, it can't happen to me."

Not exactly, more of a generational thing. Two of the three are black and grew up in the neighborhood (and the other grew up on a naval base in CA and was perma-grounded). You know, they start trading stories about getting they ass whupped by the neighbor round the corner and having to go pick out a switch and shit like that. There was a moment of silence when I pointed out that kids who get beat at home are the bullies at school, but it didn't last long.

They were also drunk. And two were high. Well, high-ish. Buzzed.

This country is failing black men and boys in the most horrifying way, I don't even know how we can walk back from this.

No fucking kidding. Such a horrific mess, and I kind of shudder to think what the next generation will be like, being raised by this generation. In god knows what kind of environment. With the poverty and the violence and the shitty schools and the lead in the soil and the corruption and the drugs and and and...

It's not for the faint of heart.

Yeah. I understand why people shut down, close off, move away. I think one of the things that bothers me most is that getting punished for snitching is a real thing here. Like, here in this neighborhood. Uggh.

I am not even kidding when I say I am turning to Buddhism to develop and deepen my capacity for compassion. You gotta have some special fucking zen to live here.

Right. Shower. Bed. I just sent the potential colocataire an offer to drop his rent to $425 if he signs a 6-mo lease instead of going month to month. Keep yer fingers crossed.

Hmph. He says he'll tell me by Sunday lunch and asks if i can hold it until then. Hmph.