My Last Nerve

Mojo is having surgery today on a tooth or possibly a bone fragment. The vet thinks it’s either a baby tooth that never came out or a piece of jaw that was broken when he was hit by a car. They won’t know what they’re operating on until they’ve x-rayed him when he’s under. Suffice it to say that Mojo’s having a rough day and hopefully it’s his last one.

Introducing a dog to a home with four people, a dog and a cat is an interesting undertaking. He still hasn’t been left off leash and I don’t see it happening any time soon. He’s marked my bedskirt. Wait, let me restate this. The dog has PEED on the corner of my bed. First I washed it and then applied tabasco sauce and set it back out on the bed. Then he sniffed so I decided that buying a second bedskirt was money well spent. I don’t know how I got so lucky but the urine didn’t make it’s way to the bed itself.

Junior enjoys Mojo but also seems to be enjoying a break from him. Junior is a nine year old dog after all and he loves to sleep and snuggle. Sleeping is not on Mojo’s agenda in the mornings and snuggling him is filled with motion.

As for the cat. She’s back. She’s living in my bathroom behind a cabinet and she’s filthy and skinny. I moved her food and water in there and her litter box is in my tub. We are officially a class act and I’m holding out hope that this will all resolve.

I’m stunned by the amount of time this dog requires and how much energy I don’t have. Of course a little dose of exhaustion has left me with even less of a filter than usual and I lost my shit yesterday on a Facebook friend (those friendships run deep). I didn’t write anything that I regret though I do regret making it public.

In LA we have lots of distinct neighborhoods but we’re all actually part of the same city. Some people feel like they’ve arrived when they rent a condo in the right neighborhood, other people feel like they’re clawing their way up when they buy a beautiful home in a neighborhood that they perceive as a stepping stone or a rung on the ladder.

One of the things that makes me insane is when I hear people repeatedly talking about how awful certain parts of the city are. Because my kids go to private schools no one is walking to school and there are no neighborhood kids. One time I was standing in the office at my son’s school and one of the mothers said, “I wouldn’t let my kids walk to Starbucks this is a terrible neighborhood.”

My friend (and one of the mothers at the school) lives in that neighborhood. Houses in that terrible neighborhood are a half a million dollars. I thought no less of my friend who lives near the school but the mother who declared herself too good for the neighborhood? I despise her.

This happens every day in Los Angeles (and probably in other cities too). Everyone has moved to the part of town that they identify with and many never leave. I grew up in the South Bay. Don’t ever try and tell a South Bay kid that life on the beach isn’t perfect. They’ll hear none of it. We moved to another part of the city and I remember bringing a friend of mine to The Strand, she said something to the effect of “Beach Bums”.

No matter what the income level someone has taken their life’s savings and invested it in their home. It’s incredibly insulting to talk about parts of town as if they’re skid row, and even skid row – well, you wouldn’t stand there among the homeless & scream about how it reeks of urine (and it does).

Further, any marketer worth her salt knows that if the competition (in this case the neighborhood) is shit the best you can ever hope for is to be better than shit. Let’s set the bar a little higher, shall we?

I lost a Facebook friend this week. Not like lost actually, more like unloaded and it felt great. What doesn’t feel great though is having to apologize for saying publicly what should have been said privately. The content was spot on, the location, well it was off. Which sort of suits the moment after all.

Things I promise to write about later this week: how my treadmill desk changed my life, a new hair oil and the best blowdry I’ve ever had.

Facebook Comments

  • I find this is one of the things that being immersed in punk rock as a young ‘un prepared me well for. Although my middle class suburbia lifestyle occasionally makes me feel way too privileged, I try really hard not to look down on anyone. I’ve known just as many rich jerks who would steal from you as I have poverty line folks who would share anything they had with you. It’s something I struggle with making sure my kids will know.

  • Ashley M

    This may be true if you live in areas with half million dollar homes and private schools but I come from Michigan. I’m sure you’ve heard about Detroit. I have to say there are neighborhoods that are unsafe, there are places you DON’T move you middle or middle upper class family too. There are people who ‘invest’ in homes and cook meth in them. Do you know what happens to a house where meth has been cooked? It’s burnt to the ground. While I can certainly see your point, and how it applies to your neighborhood it certainly does not apply everyhwere. Here, it’s not about looking down on anyone. It’s about keeping your family safe. It isn’t just detroit either. There are towns hit hard by recessions all across America who have seen a changing landscape in their neighborhoods.

    • Updating facebook with things like “Ooh that part of town is so gross/tacky/far/cheap” does nothing to keep anyone’s family safe.

      Not everything we think needs to be said. Also in this case the person was dead wrong.

  • When we moved to the mountain from San Diego people would ask us, “Don’t you feel safer here now that you’ve left the city?’ The word “city” was always said with an inflection that suggested that we’d actually moved to the mountain from hell, or prison, or San Bernadino. It was insulting. We lived in a nice part of San Diego. Not the ritzyest, but certainly nice. And no, I didn’t feel like my kids were safer in a tiny town with nothing to do. From my perspective it was far more dangerous on the mountain than in San Diego.

    FB is of the devil. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.