But This Is Not Millwoods!

No offense, Star, but these are not the sorts of stories that I'm suppose to be able to tell. I live in a quiet, residential neighbourhood on the southside, near several schools, where not much happens. I mean when the meth house down the street was gutted and the residents arrested, that was a big deal - we'd never seen anything like that on our street. So I shouldn't come home from Myrna's Stitch 'n' Bitch night to find my brother looking through the snow outside our house trying to find the bullet that was shot at our house!! Jade was sitting at the dining room table when she heard a crashing noise behind her and figured it was probably just another stupid bird hitting the giant picture window. Until she realized that that other noise was breaking glass.... It's a single bullet hole, not even all the way through the glass, but I'm kind of freaked out. I mean, what the hell? If our house was the intended target, then why? And if it wasn't, then also why? It's not like our house is particularily interesting looking - I often describe it as the little shoebox next to the beautiful porched house - or has offensive signs hanging in the window. We don't even have real curtains, for pete's sake! Just burgundy bedsheets tacked up across the window to keep the sun from creating glare on the tv screen. The whole thing is creepy and wierding me out. Which is great considering it's 1:00am in the morning and I /have/ to be at my 10:00am class tommorow to hand in my term paper. Gah!

And here I was, wanting to write my next blog all about my adventures with crocheting and the sad realization that I was not born a natural hooker...