Allison Wonderland

An Open Letter to My Neighbor:

Dear Neighbor,

It’s 8 am on Sunday morning and I’ve just spent the last fifteen minutes of my life listening to your screeching voice yet again. Neighbor, listen to me be unequivocally harsh. I’m writing to you asking, pleading, that this madness stops.

It’s become obvious that your dog “Dewey” is somewhat of a trouble maker, dear neighbor. I wish I knew your name but I do not. Not because I don’t care. But, because every time I see you in the neighborhood your three Westie dogs try to attack me so I run in the opposite direction. In fact, last summer one of them did. When they were loose in the neighborhood I coerced them into your gate to which one of them thanked me by biting my leg. When I told you what had happened, you said, “Oh well.” So sweet. But, I’m not upset about that. I’m not holding onto your inability to be gracious. I just don’t have the time for that.

Back to Dewey. In the early mornings you let Dewey out into the yard where I’m guessing by your tone of voice he causes chaos. You screech and yell and berate little Dewey every morning. And, I’m sure it’s hard. I understand that maybe Dewey is a lot to handle. You see, I know Dewey. I’ve met many Dewey’s in my lifetime. Mischievous, sneaky, unable to listen. Babe, I’ve dated a few Dewey’s. It’s rough. You feel as though you have no control. But, you love him. So your way of coping in this relationship is to instill fear in him. Fear. When I hear you scream Dewey’s name over and over again every morning I can only assume Dewey is afraid of you. I would be. It’s scary.

Here’s the thing. I don’t like to wake up like this. I don’t like it at all. I’m a pretty pleasant person most of the time. I think of myself as a good and kind neighbor. I’m not loud. I don’t have parties. Our yard is clean. I don’t steal your magazines even though I could. I’m great. But, I’m not getting the same from you. It’s painfully clear to me and I’m sure our other neighbors that you and Dewey have a few issues you need to work out. Might I suggest dog training? Is that terribly offensive to say? I don’t know. I’m not sure if I’m crossing a line. But, then I remember how, day after day, I’m awoken by your voice. Your angry voice. And, babe, I don’t deserve this. Not after a twelve hour work day. No ma’am.

I bet Dewey has some great potential. He’s pretty cute. He’s a little monster, but adorable. I can see he wants to be good. Let him know what it’s like to be good. Show him the opportunities that await him if he changes his behavior. He could even meet a girl. His whole life’s in front of him, you know?

So I ask of you one thing: Help Dewey. Stop yelling. Stop screaming. Stop scaring him (and us). Just love him.

I thank you for taking the time to read this. My intentions were not to offend or upset you by any means. I just want you to have what I’m so fortunate to have with my own dog. I look at her while you’re screaming at Dewey and I could never in a million years speak to her in that way.

Good luck,
Your hopeful neighbor.

(printed and delivered to recipient)

I’m fine.

After a twelve hour work day I came home to throw myself into the hottest shower I could tolerate. I sat in the shower and literally just let the water hit my face for twelve minutes. Twelve minutes. No shampoo. No shaving. Just water and my face. I basically had to crawl out of the shower after using up most/all of the hot water. Dripping on the white rug in front of my sink I wiped the mirror and evaluated the red blotches covering my face from the hot water, smudging around the black residue from my mascara without actually removing any of it. I was content.

There are days when I’m angry with myself. There are days when I’m disappointed in myself. There are times when I’m too exhausted to figure out just exactly how I feel about myself. But today, after slinging plates and putting on my bravest face, today I didn’t feel bad. It was a relief. I can be so unbearably hard on myself. I can blame everyone else for my mood swings. I can hide from almost anything with the right amount of sarcasm. And, more often than not, I’m maneuvering in and out of conversations with laughter in an effort to remind people that I’m “fun.” I mean, I am fun. But I’m pretty much always making sure you don’t forget how fucking fun I am. Today I could’ve been hard on myself. I could’ve beaten myself up about my friendships or my attitude towards people I love. Are you okay? No? How can I help? What should I do to make the situation better? I didn’t do any of it. I let the negativity go and I can breath again.

Today I was more myself than I have been in months. In front of that mirror I realized I’m fine. I’m going to be fine. I’m ready to be fine. I’m fine.

Jennifer Coolidge throws the best Halloween party and I channel my inner Margot Tenenbaum

Before October Ends

I would like to have accomplished the following:

  1. Buy an e-cig/ stop smoking-ish
  2. Dry clean my winter coats
  3. Cut down on the coffee and the sarcasm

I could go on but I’m not big on putting pressure on myself. 

This squidge loves when I have the day off

This squidge loves when I have the day off

I ran into John Goodman in the neighborhood today and called his dogs obnoxious to his face while he was wearing pajamas and standing barefoot in front of his house. He had no choice but to laugh which made me laugh because, let’s be honest, what’s better than a John Goodman laugh?

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween!

I haven’t written a blog entry in agessss. These past few months have been a whirlwind for me. I arrived to the states after 18 months abroad, I got a job within the first week, I traveled to Dallas to watch my brother get married, I had two of my best friends from my study abroad program in Greece down to New Orleans for a week, and more! Today is the first day I’ve had off from work in 8 days. 

I love my new job waiting tables. It’s intense, it’s corporate, it’s exhausting and frustrating, but I’m somehow enjoying myself. I love my coworkers, I love being around people, and I’m making decent bank. Throwing myself into a job immediately after arriving was probably not the best decision, but I’m happy I did it. I’m lucky to have this job and thankfully I can see myself there for awhile. I mean, I cried every day during training, I yelled at a few people my first week, I broke an arm full of plates. But, at the end of the night, my coworkers and I will walk our asses across the street to Avenue Pub, throw back a few PBR’s and laugh about how ridiculous our jobs are. It’s awesome. 

The best part about being back is being here in New Orleans. This city is mine. I live and breathe it. I can NEVER get enough of it. Every single day I wake up with excitement about being here and living here. Every night I’ll sit out in our courtyard and listen to the crickets and people walking past, and think “I’m actually apart of this!!” 

My friends, Bri and Amy, came last week and we were able to really soak up this awesome city. Lucky for me, these two beautiful girls are full of life and adventure. They wanted to see as much of The Crescent City as possible and we did. I loved seeing the city through their eyes, remembering that feeling of being here for the first time and how life changing it was. It made me feel good that they loved it as much as I do. 

Here are some pictures from my awesome “staycation” as we referred to it. I love love LOVE these girls and having them here in New Orleans with me, well nothing has felt quite as sweet.