Excuse me, I think you left your DNA in my yard....

First, let me say I will never go this long without a blog entry again. I apologize to the whole three of you who read this blog on a regular basis!

THIS is worth the wait.

So, you know my neighborhood is sort of, well, ghetto and keeps getting worse, right? In fact, my neighborhood is in such a downward spiral that two weeks ago someone was CARJACKED outside of my home. CARJACKED. IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE. AT GUN POINT.

You get the point.

I find this incredibly disturbing. Here's the thing, I personally have no fear of being carjacked. I drive a beat up Sebring with constant flat tires and 135,000 miles. Take it - please! In fact, if I were to witness a carjacking I would probably stop the car, run out and offer mine. And then I'm sure the carjacker would laugh in my face. Or shoot me, leaving my car behind, of course.

Where was I? Oh yeah, fantasizing about getting a new car....anyway, I don't fear being a victim of this particular crime. However, I fear the fact that this crime would take place IN FRONT OF MY HOME.

Not to mention, this carjacker must not have the highest standards. Seriously, you should see some of the cars that drive down my street. This is not exactly Mercedes-ville, ok?

As if the carjacking isn't bad enough, today my next door neighbors told me they're walking away from their home. Awesome. There goes my home value and, even worse, there goes the neighborhood. Other than that time they (wrongly) thought Gracie killed their cat, they are nice, normal and quiet. Seriously, I'm fortunate because at least the people on each side of me and directly across the street are normal. I am seriously freaked out about who or what will move in next door.

The neighbor dropped the bomb this afternoon while I was doing yard work. The yard work eventually took me behind my garage where I plant my garden. Since it's Michigan I have yet to plant anything - I was just going back there to check out the weed situation.

That's when I spotted something irregular.

Something that does NOT belong in one's garden.

Something round, white and latex.

And I'm not talking about a balloon.

Yes, friends - there, on the ground where I will plant tomatoes, was a USED CONDOM.

I want to know how a used condom got in my garden. Wait, sorry, I am gagging a little.

Gracie goes back there all the time. She has probably sniffed it or worse - uh, gagging some more. It has been back there at least three weeks.

Should I get Gracie a STD test? I want to just go and Lysol the dirt. I know that sounds insane but I feel so violated.

Am I overreacting? I don't think so. No one should have to worry that when she goes into her garden to pick peppers and cucumbers she going to find a latex surprised filled with the DNA of a stranger.

I am so utterly disgusted.

Anyone wanna buy a house?