Hi my name is Emily and I am a stalker.

Seriously, I believe I have the genetic make up to be one. For the past 8 years we have lived in an older neighborhood where the homes are almost within touching distance. Although we love our house and most (not all) of our neighbors, we are in the process of moving. We’ve really just begun with getting the touching finishes on our house to put it in the awful market.

This means we’ve had to decide exactly what we want in this next home. For me that was an easy list, because I don’t require much. An attached garage, a dishwasher and more than one bathroom. That would make happy. Throw in a few things like laundry on the first floor and a big bath tub and you’ve pretty well made my year.

I could be satisfied just about anywhere, but my husband has other dreams. He would like to be able to sit out in the backyard in his boxers and listen to his New Kids On The Block cassette tapes blaring without being judged. Just kidding. But he doesn’t want to live so close to the neighbors that they can hear me yell obscenities when he drives into our fence. That happened here once and my voice carried throughout the city. But you know, if he just watched where he was going this wouldn’t be an issue.

Really he just doesn’t like the whole block knowing what Santa brought Ethan by glancing at the boxes on trash day. I on the other hand love being able to to decipher other’s lives by a little window watching. I enjoy watching people. Some might call me nosy, but I prefer the word curious. It just seems much nicer.

So who will I stalk out in the middle of nowhere? Think of all the free time I’ll have. Thank goodness for blogs and the ability to stalk all of you. I’m going to call it cyber-stalking.

I’m guest hosting over at Cheaper Than Therapy today for Ali.

So if you want to know about the crazy old lady who lives next door and might be a bank robber…you know where to find me.

When we first moved to our house as a young, just married couple we met the neighbors two doors down. They were our age, had moved in a few months before us and married a month after we did.

Little did we know that after a brief conversation over a rusted chain-link fence we would become the best of friends. Amy left a potted red geranium on our door step one afternoon with a little sign that read - “Welcome to the Neighborhood!” That sign still hangs on my fridge.

We talked off and on and ate dinner once or twice as we got to know them. Winter came and our outdoor encounters became few and far between. In what can only be described as “something June Cleaver would do” Amy came over in February 2002, stood in my kitchen all smiley and giddy asking for a cup of milk. It took only a few seconds for her to burst with the news she was pregnant!

Surprise! I am too! (Apparently we had both kept quite busy over the winter.) She was due in November and I was due in early August. Our friendship grew as we planned and prepared for our expanding families. By the time our little ones arrived our lives intertwined.

As first-time mom’s we went through all the stages together. Weekends and evenings were spent together grilling, playing cards and just hanging out with the little ones. The boys quickly became best buddies.

Amy and I both had summers off, so we spent our time at parks and walking the neighborhood. We talked a lot about planning our next pregnancies at the same time. Of course, life happens and the timing didn’t work.

She came over one afternoon in December 2004, after my car accident, stating she thought she might be pregnant. I had a test in the bathroom cabinet and what do you know….she was! So we planned a dinner with our families that evening and watched as she shared the news with her husband.

Their second son arrived in August 2005 and I just happened to be in the hospital when she went in. I remember her walking around in my room and visiting after labor had started. It was so hard seeing them experiencing joy in a place that had caused me a lot of pain.

A few months later they moved into a larger house on the other side of town. In an attempt of self-pity I let jealousy and envy come between my friendship with her.

She had what I wanted. A baby. A new house. Happiness & good health. What seemed like it all.

As some distance, not measured by miles, grew between us I realized what I needed most was her friendship.

We have a lot of odd neighbors. In the 6 years we’ve resided here, I’ve witnessed some crazy stuff. Granted, I admit to being a nosy person. There I said it. I like to watch people. I’m not a stalker, but I do take interest in what is going on around me.

Let me tell you about the neighbors across the street. They are a good place to start. Married couple probably in their 50’s. Very nice and very polite. They moved in about a year after we did. The first time I noticed them flying a freak flag was while they were mowing their yard. Sounds innocent enough, but it is the manner in which the husband does it. Not just once, but every single time - in nice khaki’s, dress shoes, a button down dress shirt (tucked in perfectly) and a belt! Who does that?

He mows their yard at least twice a week and picks up leaves/sticks during his daily inspection. I have seen him out there in the pouring rain and picking up a twig that fell and happened to land on their sidewalk. Oh the horror! He must be sitting in the front window just waiting to pounce on anything that crosses his lawn.

His wife completes him in that Jerry Maguire sense. Frequently, you’ll see her out front picking up air that probably blew over from a neighbor’s yard or rearranging rocks in the landscape so that every stone is turned in the same direction.

We are one of the many neighbors they despise on this street I’m sure. Along with most of the normal people we don’t spend our free time obsessing over the perfection of our lawn. In the fall I can see them cringe when the wind blows all the leaves from other yards into theirs. We used to have a ginkgo tree in the front yard that would drop these horrible stink bomb seeds every fall. My husband mentioned to them we were thinking taking the tree out and they all but offered to chip in. They got a new roof last summer and sent their contractor over to give us an estimate. The balls uh? Wonder what they think of the 960 lbs of rubber in the driveway?

While keeping up with my “bird-watching” hobby I noticed a flurry of activity that resembled a Realtor showing their house. Um? There is no sale sign in the yard, so I look online (public information, not being nosy) and search homes for sale on our street. What do you know, their house is for sale. It even states in the description that there is no sign due to owner refusal. Seriously? I knew they were a little anal, but dude that’s anal. Looks like they will be moving soon though.

Don’t worry they aren’t the only odd-ball neighbors. Stay tuned. Now that it is warm out I’m sure the old lady next door will appear in her bikini clad wrinkly bod to sun bathe in the driveway. Oh yes, there will be pictures.