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City Mouse

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Do you remember the children’s book The City Mouse and The Country Mouse? Neither did I, until this morning. Who could have guessed these life lessons from childhood would keep sneaking up on us?

This morning I met my next door neighbor for the first time. By next door, I mean the apartment that’s butted right up against ours, and by first time, I mean we’ve both lived in the building for almost a year and a half, and we’ve never encountered each other.

I know people have their own schedules and to be unaware of your neighbors is considered blissful city living, but I still find it incredibly strange you can share the same building with a person for months and months and never see them.

As it turns out, our neighbor is the nicest person in the building. Of course, I’m basing this solely on the two-minute completely superficial conversations I’ve shared with everyone. But she stood out. And I’ll probably never see her again.



It kind of makes me sad in a really cheesy way. See, I have this fantasy about living in a community where neighbors are friends. There’s pool parties and carpools and neighborly poker nights.  They have you for dinner, you bring them bundt cake, etc… A lot like how I picture the seventies, minus all the weirdness.

As it is, I can’t even ask my neighbors for the damn sugar to make the bundt cake.

Maybe I’m just a country mouse?

And by country I mean somewhere near civilization (read:Target), the ocean, and some decent restaurants.



Written by ditheringmiss

August 11, 2009 at 10:12 am

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