Party Machine

First, if you're unfamiliar, I have to explain a little Mexican culture to you.  They have several big party holidays every year.  Around Christmas, they celebrate Christmas eve, New Year's, and January 6 with loud, all night parties. 

Well, January 6 is on a Monday night, and if you were planning an outdoor party (customary) forget it - it's going to be in the 20's. 

The kids in #19 are at it again - they're a regular party machine.  They use a pickup truck for the music, they open the doors, open their front door, and turn it up very loud.  Loud enough that I can hear it over a block away. 

#19 apparently planned the party for tonight.  The loud music started right around 6:20, when I was planning on bed. 

I woke Ron up (he goes to sleep early every night), and he called the police and the homeowner's association.  I had some very bad thoughts about #19, which I will not share.  God forbid something did happen I wouldn't want it tracking back to me! 

I'll just say I really wish they would move.  In fact, I hope they're in the process of eviction.  It would explain why they've been so rude, lately. 

But this is what happens when people don't vet their tenants.  A group of young kids is never a good rental idea, and I doubt they checked any references either. 

[sigh]  But it's always something.  Remember the barking dog next door?  It would not shut up, day or night.  It drove Ron and I nuts.  He'd get very angry.  I just wanted some sleep.  The owner got tired of it (too much work and the "owner" was an immature teenage girl who did not understand dogs need more than a bowl of food and 5 minutes of petting every day). 

We also had other issues next door - the one that made me angriest wasn't the kids coming in my yard without permission, breaking my gate, and looking in my windows.  It was the older boyfriend and the 14 year old girl.  The man would come and honk his horn, she'd come out, they'd talk a little and have sex in his car.  Then he'd throw the used condom, in a baggie, into my yard and drive off.  I couldn't believe the father allowed it. 

In case he really didn't get it, I even put one of the baggies on his windshield, where he'd have to take it off to drive.  Nothing.  Then she's pregnant.  When they moved, she was 16, had a toddler, and every young black man who saw them treated her like a slut.  She seemed like a lovely mother but she should have had a husband; instead she was a young kid living with her parents and trying to raise a baby. 

I wanted to smack those young men, the father, the mother, and the boyfriend who of course left the scene the minute she started to show. 

My point being: I will always have some aggravating neighbor issue.  I don't live on a deserted island, I live in a subdivision surrounded by at least a thousand other souls. 

I did have a bad thought, as the polka music started again tonight, I thought, God I am so sick of Latinos and their wild parties.  God reminded me they are part of my mission field, and asked me if I was disobeying Him.  I told him no, of course, I'll go wherever I'm sent. 

It would be a little easier to see it as a mission field if I didn't live in America, maybe.  But I do, and God wants me reaching out to all Spanish-speakers (when I have the Bibles, which I don't at present), the ghetto (plenty of Bibles for them), my drivers, and whoever else He sends my way. 

It was a little harder repenting of all the bad thoughts about #19, but I got to it.  Then I went and did my God Time over again. 

I figured, if I couldn't sleep I could at least do something spiritual (Bible Study and prayer).