Welcome to Sitcomville.

Ever since we moved in, I realized we gained membership to one of the Ultimate Secret Clubs.

A neighborhood.

An actual neighborhood. Where the neighbors are nice, not nosy, and not Flandersish.

The first neighbor we met was the elderly woman standing behind the counter in a small town--actually, she's a nice older woman with five dogs.

She certainly doesn't beat our former townhouse neighbor who had 12 cats.

Yes, 12. The townhouses we lived in were only like 1200 square feet. Once I saw her garage door open, and along one of the walls were tubs of kitty litter stacked to the ceiling.

Ew.

And she also had a little lean-to built on the back of her house for the feral cats to be sheltered for the rain. And then they would shit in our tiny backyard. Which is why we never let Marley back there (he's a little shit-eater- we have to watch him).

She's a bit of an agoraphobic--when we do see her, she's usually in some godawful floral dressing gown that would put any of the Golden Girls to shame.

When we were over at the townhouse this weekend cleaning madly (we want all our insanely expensive deposit back--and I mean all of it), we heard a knock on the door.

It was our crazy cat lady neighbor. She was dressed in a floral lace nightmare nightgown, and asked us if our cat was still there.

Okay, for one- we moved on July 4. She saw us moving. You would think we would take all our animals with us. For two- does she think we are a bunch of cat-haters? While I love Roxie, I don't love a bunch of feral cats picking a fight with Roxie through the windows, shitting in my yard, and giving Roxie an excuse to piss on the carpet near the door to where I worry if the landlord will smell it and forfeit our deposit to buy carpet at a highway robbery price. But I would never do anything to those shitting, disease-ridden feral cats.

I told her no, we are the type of people who move everything and everyone with us when we move. Imagine that. She said she keeps hearing a cat meowing. I told her no, I haven't heard anything, and that I would let her know if I did hear anything.

She repeated herself and lingered for a moment, almost acting as if we had a kitten trapped in the garage or something.

As I shut the door as she shuffled back to her house, my husband asked who was at the door.

"Oh, the next door neighbor. She's hearing cats meow."

"Yeah, I'll bet she is," my husband replied.

I will be so glad to get out of here finally, I thought.

There are a gazillion things I won't miss about good 'ol Rockwood, but I'll just write the Top 10:

-I won't miss our cars getting broken into, only for the crooks to stupidly take the stereo face but not the stereo. Worrying anytime any of our guests park on the street.

-I won't miss being welcomed home to a fresh batch of graffiti on the mailboxes and the neighbor's fence.

-I won't miss the stupid children playing in the street (when there's a park just around the corner and a larger park down the street) and not comprehending English when you're asking them to move out of the way.

There have been times I've wanted to visit their parents, ask them what the fuck were they thinking when they decided to procreate, why the fuck they're not watching their kids, and to please move their car off of the sidewalk--I can't walk my dog. But I was just afraid these people would understand English about as well as their children, or sic their children on me. In this neighborhood, I wouldn't be surprised.

-I won't miss waking up to drive-by shootings, and seeing my husband "hit the deck" faster than I've ever seen him move.

-I won't miss the hacking, coughing, and hocking at 4am from the neighbor, only to have the hacking d-bag start his farty-sounding Honda and rev it for ten minutes.

-I won't miss the five competing ice cream trucks prowling for children throughout the day and weekends.

Yes, five.

They all play different music- one plays "The Entertainer," one plays "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star/ABC song," one plays the song that goes, "Do your ears hang low/do they wobble to and fro..." (the song title escapes me), one plays a medley of nursery rhymes, and the other plays a medley of Americana songs (like America the Beautiful, Yankee Doodle). It's enough to drive a five-year old crazy with the annoying music. What I really want to see is all five trucks facing one another in a parking lot, only to have the Ultimate Showdown:

Ice Cream Truck Demolition Derby.

That would be hilarious and awesome simultaneously.

-I won't miss the Gorge winds blowing all of the neighbor's trash onto our porch. Or finding bullet casings in our front yard.

-I won't miss worrying if my husband is going to be beaten, stabbed, or shot by paranoid gang members on the MAX (and I won't miss seeing drug deals go down while I'm waiting for the next train to downtown).

-I won't miss the long chit-chat brought on by the nosy neighbor when all you want to do is take in your groceries but can't get a word in to escape.

-I won't miss having to call Police Non-Emergency because too many stupid fucks in our neighborhood decided to park on our street. It's a fire lane, it obstructs traffic, and on New Year's 2006 my sister-in-law got a $40 ticket, and I'll be damn sure I'll put that $40 to use.

By giving all my other jerky neighbors a parking ticket. Yes, I was that neighbor.

And now we live with wonderful neighbors. Most of them come off as hippies- whether it be the zen-like neighbors who came over with a bunch of flowers and vegetables from their organic garden, or the older hippies who now worry about who's lawn is growing too tall.

But now I'm waiting for the bomb to drop. This is too good to be true--neighborhoods aren't like this. Neighborhoods like this only exist in sitcoms. And even then there's a weird neighbor or some crazy shenanigans that occur.

I'm still not used to being in a house where we don't share a wall with anyone. I had my music blasting in the kitchen until midnight last night as I scrambled to finish my edible favors for my sister's bridal shower. And no other neighbors could hear it. Weird.

Where's the guy who plays techno and vacuums at 2am? What about the girl who wears her clacky heels all over her apartment? What about the neighbor whose dog has separation anxiety and scratches and howls while they're gone? You mean there's no neighbor who plays guitar with his amp blasting and is singing so loud I can tell he's off-key? You mean even if they're there, I won't be able to hear them?

Wow.

I think this will take some getting used to.