Ranting and Raving as Requested


We all did it. Ok maybe not all of us…but a lot of us. Going to the beach for a long weekend or week with our friends is almost like a right of passage for young people. Maybe just maybe a party or two or three or more will pop up. I get that too. Never did it myself at the beach, but I certainly had my share of partying days and nights during and after high school.

So when we decided to move to the beach as year round residents, did we think of this aspect of beach life? Not for a second. All we could think was how cheap our new home was, and how cool it was to have our own place to decorate and make our own. Our kids would start school the following fall and we were starting to feel like genuine grown ups.

It was absolute bliss. Coming down almost every weekend to work on our new home, explore the area all fall and winter to get familiar with our new hometown. Those were great times…trying new restaurants, going back and forth to Home Depot, visiting my sister and her family who settled in down here a few years before us.

All so sweet and happy and cute…that is until summer. We couldn’t wait for our first summer as beach residents…walking to the beach and boardwalk, warm summer nights hanging in our backyard having countless barbeques with family and friends…

It didn’t take long to realize we landed smack dab in the middle of a party zone (thank you real estate agent for letting us know this)…of non stop parties, brawls at two a.m. in the street, public urinating, trashing of lawns and flower gardens, and my absolute favorite…parking wars.


Which brings us to my first rant on my blog.  It burns my belly. Keeps me up at night along with the blasting music, screaming and yelling from simultaneous parties or just one. We have a driveway…that will fit maybe a Yugo.  We can squeeze our Jeep or Suburban in it if we ABSOLUTELY have to, but at a cost.  Be prepared to climb out of a window or suck it in to waif-like proportions to get OUT of the car…without scratching or denting a door.  We have had to do it. I may just have to do it tonight. After my second trip out to drop off/pick up kids. And then again later tonight to pick my daughter up from work to come home to yet another late tonight of  parties  just getting started.


There are about a dozen cars parked out front. They haven’t moved. Since Sunday. They are over my yellow line just enough that if I hit them tonight with my massive Suburban, it will not be my problem. I have asked nicely over the past thirteen years to please rotate the cars out. PLEASE oh please MOVE your car. Please GOD DAMN IT move the frigging cars!!! I have four kids, not that any of them (party people) would care or notice. I am constantly in and out all day, every day. We play the parking game just as they do…but they trump us every stinking time(insert expletives)…because they just park their cars…and walk away…for days and days.


Try coming homing home from picking up your child at work or a friend’s house, and  the hubster is away, and having to walk  around the block with a sleeping child. Did that last night…it ain’t fun.


So here is the solution. After many, many years here, and giving this town countless years to clean up its act, after losing everything in a fire, and rebuilding a dream home with our friends’ and families’ and neighbors’ help, with years of calling police to break up fights on my front porch or in the street, and my waking babies at three a.m. because of girls screaming at their loser boyfriends for talking to “that” girl at the party, after drug busts, and snipers on roof tops, and floods and hurricanes…it is time for us to move along.


But that won’t happen for a while.  My husband is hard at work building a future for us, so we can move on and not worry if it is going to be another situation like this. WE will have choice…but sadly, not yet.


So in order to get some GOOD KARMA out of this, I bit my tongue as I struggled to walk by party house number one just now ( a half a dozen drunken teenagers sitting on the porch alternating between rap and country music-who does that??!)and decided to vent on here instead.  And now I BEG my readers this one simple request.


If you have a son or daughter, or a niece or nephew, of friend’s kid heading this way before the end of summer, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ask them to carpool. In this day and age of high gas prices, why in the world are teens from Philadelphia, New York, Quebec, or Delaware coming in their own cars…so they can drink and drive? I sure as heck hope not! Guess that is the only small blessing in this. No they just park them and sit. Carpool to the beach…what a brilliant idea! Save money on gas!! Another brilliant idea! Keep their messes to themselves and be mindful that this OUR home, and we wouldn’t go their neighborhood and park a car in front of their driveway for a week, or throw trash on their mother’s garden…end of rant.


2 responses »

  1. Omg. I had no idea about the parking. I knew about the obnoxious renters. I would sit in my car and cry I think. God bless you carrying a sleeping baby for blocks.


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