Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Babbleville ... An Introduction

Welcome to Babbleville!

Babbleville is my fictional name for my very factual neighborhood. You could say we're located in Northern Nevada, but I prefer "majestic Sierra Nevada Mountains." It just sounds ... better. Here we get to sweat like whores in church during the summer and pay small children to shovel snow in the winter. Spring is nice; fall is even better.

Sounds good so far, right?

We're also close to Reno which hails itself as The Biggest Little City in the World. This qualifies us as a 24-hour community. Aside from higher auto insurance rates, it also means that the freaks don't just come out at night. They slither about all day long.

Let me take you to my block.

I live in a community of townhouses, all individually owned which makes for some good fun but, I'll get to that a little later. Also on the block -- a gas station that is always conveniently out of regular gas but not premium, an over-priced grocery store where I like to buy my 1.5 liters of Barefoot Chardonnay, a hippy sort of mystical thrift store that sells bikes with plush animals somehow sewn to the actual bike frames (huh?), a laundromat, a place that sells a pretty good chicken burrito, a Christian book/gift store, a tattoo shop and a hair salon that caters to the bingo crowd and AARP members.

In time you'll get to know the other residents but for now let me introduce myself. My name is Gina but in Babbleville, I am Miss Spoken. I can be guilty of letting my words get away from me. Like darts dipped in poison, they can sometimes sting a bit. Not always. Kinda. Maybe. I think I'm funny but I'm not always. I like a glass of Chardonnay at 3:00. I like more later. I have three kids I've nicknamed Legal, The Boy and Boss Lady. Legal used to tell her friends that I only liked the Disney villains. She was right. Me and Maleficent are like twins separated at birth (hey Malef, I want my horned headdress back whenever you get the chance. Text me!). 

So that's a snapshot of Babbleville and a brief look at Miss Spoken. Maybe tomorrow I'll introduce you to my next door neighbor, Miss Perceived. But it's almost 3:00 and Miss Spoken has a nagging sensation that there is something else she's supposed to be doing right now.

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