As I pulled into my drive,
I noticed new people moving into
the house a couple doors down.

Why do I not know my neighbors?
I should.
I would.
This time, I'd walk up to my neighbors,
introduce myself with a fresh start--
savagely supress
all anti-social emotions
that threaten to damage my well-being,
and those of my future children
(hey, aren't PTOs and soccer required?).

What to say?
I don't bake.
But this was too easy---> as I pulled into my drive,
I saw a ten speed setting out against a tree next to the road.

I bounded over:
"Hello. My name is [SQ's innocence must continue to be protected].
I just live right over there.
I, uh, noticed you parked your 10 here.
You may want to keep in chained up--ours was stolen."

Perfect conversation breaker, no?
I mean, isn't "troubles talk" (see Deborah Tanner)
a human way of communication, of bonding?

Why is communicating so hard for someone who studies communication?
I can just imagine what the dinner table would sound like if I had, say three children. I would have to sparodically say things like,
"Just eat your food, or I'll beat your butt back to mars. Eyeballs."--simply to
keep up a pretence of normalcy.

Back to the neighbor: The guy pinched his face up at me,
looked me in the forehead and said with a heavy Scottish accent:
"She just lived down there [one more door down]. Lived here for a year.
We keep our bikes locked up."

So she isn't my new neighbor, and this isn't a fresh start.