to sleep, perchance to dream

a few nights ago I was startled awake at 3:30 am by some loud talking and odd noises outside my window. my house is on a slant so that at the front of the house it's only one story, but the back is two. this makes my room on the second floor, on the driveway side. this description is all very important, i promise.
back to the noises. i hear gravel crunching, and then some quiet/serious/worried/desperate questions asked.
"hey man, what do you want? you want a beer? what are you doing here?"
mumbleyslurredmumbles
"you speak spanish, ask him in spanish."
"que haces aqui? porque estas aqui?"
that didn't work either so they go back peppering him with questions in english.
at this point i look out the window and see 3 neighbors and 2 guys i've never seen before. the sketchy character was in a black hat, and the two girls stood back a little, with their arms folded across their chests in that insecure-and-scared-but-like-hell-i'm-going-to-miss-this-way.
"you really scared our friend. you can't stay here, you have to go."
and the older-looking guy who seemed in control of the situation started walking the hatted man up the driveway and down the street.
at this point i call down from my window. "mariana, what is going on?"
"christina went into the bathroom and heard some noises and saw shadowy movement outside. when we all went out to look, some guy was trying to lay down between the bushes and the side of the house. i guess he was planning on sleeping there all night."
"that's insane. can you make sure he doesn't come in our yard?"
i'm hoping that this sort of situation isn't normal of my new neighborhood. every morning, as i leave for work at 3:55, i definitely scan the ground around the bushes to make sure my yard hasn't become a makeshift hostel.

strolling along

last weekend, santa barbara hosted a five day party technically called old spanish days but, for locals and wannabes it's fiesta, as in viva la fiesta. one might assume that it is rooted to a historic event, or perhaps is a time to reflect on those who brought spanish culture and architecture to this area. this is not the case--it was originally created to lure tourists in, have them sleep in over-priced hotels, eat at many of the millions of restaurants, and basically prove that people are suckers. it works like a charm. it also makes parking nearly impossible.
friday night i decided to partake in some festivities, but had a longish walk to get downtown. i was walking behind a small group of high school girls dressing the part when i noticed them all casually avoid something in the sidewalk. i took the non-verbal warning and found that a dog had defecated in the middle of our path. by this point i was looking for any excuse to keep my gaze from the highschoolers' eyesore-outfits, and took quite an interest in the shit.
it was pretty fresh, uncommonly dark green in color, and unfortunately soft. unfortunate for the person who stepped in it not long before we came along. after the (still warm?) pile there were diminishing footsteps of one foot, trying to wear-off the smelly surprise. then i noticed a small detail that makes the story actually worth telling: the footprints where obviously from bare feet, big toe, little toes, the gap of the arch....it probably squished between his toes.