Update: Gone But Not Forgotten
I am the worst blogger in the history of blogging, and should be hung by my toenails and flogged with a wet noodle. I'd love to blame it on the absence of drama at the new residence, but that excuse will only get me so far, as I could have most certainly fabricated an entry if not only to keep everyone engaged. I've failed you all...

But back to my excuse, there really isn't anything for me to write about here at the new place. We're tucked back in the corner of the property next to the quietest man alive (probably busy making pipe bombs) and as a result I have nothing with any entertainment value to report. Here's all I have for you:

- There is a pair of shredded and extremely weathered teal green BVD's currently suspended from the gutter at the corner of our half of the duplex. I happened to have recently purchased a new shower curtain rod and as I passed under them on the sidewalk on my way inside from shopping, I used said rod to push the offending BVD's back up onto the roof. I'm hoping that it doesn't rain too hard anytime soon or they'll be hanging down again and most likely dripping with rain water. I would rather fish my eyeballs out of my head with a spoon than walk underneath a strange pair of mens undergarments which is dripping rain water and the good Lord only knows what else down upon my head. I've considered turning in a work request to have someone from Maintenance get them down, but after the last work request (shot glass in garbage disposal rendered it useless), I figure it's best to just ride it out.

- There's a dirty black pregnant cat running about that my roommate has befriended. I think it might bear its babies in our hedges and am very, very afraid.

- The roommate is currently very agitated at the "Spicwasher and Spicdryer" (her words, not mine) that ate her sassy, sheer red bra and failed to dry her clothes adequately. Apparently, one really, really must have a sheer red bra (to take off) in order to succeed sexually.

That's it. That's all there is to tell. See why I haven't posted??? It's just sad. I guess I can just start making stuff up, since I don't use anyone's real names and it can't be called slander or libel. I'll look into that if things don't start improving around here. That is my pledge to you.

The New Digs
Okay. The moving process, which is extremely time-consuming and tedious, has now been completed and I have moved away from the apartment where I unabashedly ridiculed my neighbors for the past two and a half years. While I'm sure they're relieved that I've packed up my stuff and taken my sadistic tendencies and harsh words elsewhere, my new neighbors have no idea what they're in for.

So far I've only met one of the new neighbors, as I now live in a duplex and only really have occasion to meet the person living on the other side of the wall. I won't go too far into this, as he seems like a n-n-n-n-nice man. You see where this is going. I'm going to st-st-st-stop now. He shouldn't be causing any sleepless nights due to wild parties anytime soon, that's for s-s-s-s-sure. He did make sure to mention that he's a musician and has very sensitive hearing, which I believe is his way of letting me know that he expects us to be quiet little mice.

The next building over houses a man in the military whose marital status I haven't assessed as of yet, but will not be pursuing as he is somewhat paternal, both in age and appearance. On the other side of his wall are at least two girls (probably three) who look to be in school still and sometimes peel out when they're pulling out of the parking lot (in their hot-rod Intrepid, no less).

The duplexes sit on the border of the property line between our complex and another, less desirable one. The neighboring complex promises many stories, I'm sure, as every time I've been outside there has been someone outside without a shirt on yelling for the kids to "get inside, NOW!" There are always at least five children outside playing, and by "playing" what I really mean is screaming bloody murder and running amock. There's also a lot of car repair going on over there at any given point, mostly done by the light of the bright red porch light bulb. Good times.

I'll put my nose to the grindstone and get busy digging up some stories to post.

My Neighbor's Thoughts on Politics
I posted about this on the One Time blog too because I wanted to make sure everyone saw this. It's awesome. No explanation necessary.

Unmentionable
There are a lot of things I'd accidentally drop on my way from my car to my apartment...an empty Coke can, a piece of mail, my keys...

There is one thing that I can promise with almost 100% certainty that I will NOT be dropping anytime soon, and that is any of my unmentionables. I've been over this many times in my head and even though I want to believe that it was just washed and accidentally fell out of the laundry basket, I know that's not true. How do I know that's not true? Because this particular unmentionable lay in the parking lot for about a week. I'm not sure if the owner (possibly the guy in the Cutlass with the skanky thong on the front seat? -- reference entry "New Shiznit" on September 4, 2003) eventually realized it was missing or if a dog carried it off.

For those of you with poor vision, I'll go ahead and tell you that it is indeed a leopard print bra with padded cups so stiff they'd give tits to a brick wall. If this is yours, I apologize for bagging on you. Next time put the unmentionables in the BOTTOM of the laundry basket.

The End is Nigh...
Mood:  spacey
I'm sure that my current neighbors will be happy to note that I will be moving away in a couple of months to a new place closer to my job.

While it does cause me great sadness that I won't be able to rag on these people, whom I have been observing now for almost two and a half years, but for 60 more days, I am excited about the prospect of a whole new cast. Much like MTV's The Real World changes their cast and location once a year to keep the subject matter fresh, I feel that the new place will be a breath of fresh air for the Neighbor Blog.

Stay tuned for a few more posts from Season One and for the introduction of the cast of Season Two!!!

Long Time No Post
Mood:  spacey
Now Playing: Lose My Breath - Destiny's Child
It's been nine months since I last posted...enough time for me to have gestated and birthed a child, although that's not how I've been using my time. Truth be told, there just really hasn't been much to report on the neighbors and even if there was, I really haven't had time to post, what with my busy schedule of working and then sleeping. Oh, and watching The Sopranos.

Nonetheless, I will throw you folks a bone. Thanks for your patience and continued patronage.

As the most recent entries reflect, Estella moved out. My roomie and I were hopeful that two hot firemen would move in next door and have a perpetual short supply of sugar or eggs, forcing them to visit us on a regular basis. A moving truck showed up one day and the movers started carting furniture and possessions up the stairs to Estella's old stomping ground. I like to consider myself a connoisseur of furnishings and, like a well-weathered psychic reading tea leaves, I have honed my ability to spot-judge someone based solely on their decor. My first impression was that we might be in luck, as the items being hauled up the stairs were "well-loved" in that Mom-and-Dad-bought-new-furniture-and-gave-me-their-old-crap kind of way. Nothing matched and a few things looked as though they'd only survived the move because their owner(s) love of duct tape.

I was about to go throw on some clothes and makeup to go out and meet the new potentially hot-guy neighbors when Roomie informed me that I shouldn't waste my time. Turns out it was a brother and sister combo, both in their early to late 30's / 40's. Good call, Roomie. I went out later to take out a bag of trash when I thought it was safe to venture out and came back to the apartment to find the next door brother hanging out waiting for me so we could meet. We'll just say that my hopes were dashed against the rocks of life's shore as they have been so many times in the past. He called Sister out to meet me, who, upon discovering what I do for a living, yanked me into their apartment to give her my opinion of how to arrange their living room furniture.

I've never been very good at hiding my feelings and I guess this instance was no exception, as Brother registered slight embarrassment and told Sister that he was sure I had other things to do and to let me go back home. I politely excused myself with the promise to help out later once they got settled in. I haven't been back since.

Next post will be about the Day of the Martinis when I lost about seven hours of time. If you see my seven hours, please send them back to me because I want to know what happened...

Drama
Okay, so ever since my roommate has moved in, all hell has broken loose: Estella's been evicted, the cops are at our complex all the time, I went to the hospital, etc. The drama reached new heights over the weekend. Sunday night, I went to see Along Came Polly with the roommate and another friend. When we got home, there were two police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck in the parking lot outside our apartment and a small group of neighbors huddled together close by. We got out of the car and I went up to the cluster-o-neighbors and asked what was going on. Apparently, a woman a few doors down had tried to kill herself earlier in the afternoon and upon failing, her friends left her alone to contemplate (and try to perfect) her method (great idea, friends). She had tried again and had done a better job, hence all the emergency vehicles (she still didn't completely succeed, at least not as of the time they were loading her stretcher in the ambulance). It apparently had something to do with her significant other, whom she called her Fiance while he called himself her Boyfriend, because there was a laundry basket and mens clothing all over the hedge outside that apartment. The Cluster all stood around chatting about it and we introduced ourselves to each other and then spent the next hour outside talking and gossiping about the other neighbors who weren't outside with us.

Apparently all of us at one time or another have called the Popo on Estella, which is comforting to me. Smokey was talking about how the folks that live under her are really odd and won't come outside if anyone is outside when they open the door...The girl used to live in the complex but was evicted, so her boyfriend managed to get an apartment that she now lives in, illegally, but they get away with it by telling the office that she's his "brain tumor nurse." Wow. I was making fun of Smokey because the last time a fire truck was in the parking lot it was because she'd burned some food...as I was giving her a hard time about thinking that was why they were here this time when we pulled up, her husband (yes, that's right, he's her husband - finally we find out) said, "Hey, we live right next to you and we hear your smoke alarm going off like five times a day, you're not one to talk..." Hehe. He's right, the smoke detectors DO go off a lot, but that's just b/c we need to clean out our oven, not b/c we're starting actual fires.

So now I'm trying to figure out if this means I'm not allowed to make fun of the ones I met anymore or not...? It just seems wrong, now that we've bonded over the community tragedy.

On a side note, I walked past the apartment of Suicide Girl the day after it happened and happened to look over as the Boyfriend/Fiance closed the door. I saw that he had seven or eight people over and they were inside laughing and drinking beers, probably even as his Girlfriend/Fiance lay in the hospital dying or something. Great guy. I may stop by later and see if he's considering himself single now.

The Eviction of Estella
I've posted a few entries about Estella, the chick next door. She seems like a sweet enough kid, but she's young and immature and impressionable. I hadn't been having any problems with them until she let one of her friends (we'll call him Darnell) move in temporarily. The evening he moved in, I was trying to go to sleep and was having some issues with that because Darnell was bumping the bass while he unpacked.

Now, I get up pretty early of a morning so I can be at work by 7:00. Because of that, I go to bed at a pretty early hour as well. I was trying to be a good neighbor and keep in mind that just because I go to bed at 9:30 on weeknights does not mean that my neighbors should have to tip-toe around their apartment in order to not disturb me. However, once the party rages on past 11:30 on a weeknight, I get a little perturbed.

After much soul-searching, a cup of chamomile tea, and two CD's on my discman later, and amidst great emotional turmoil, I finally decided to bang on the wall. I banged three times and held my breath while I waited for the bass to quiet down. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes lapsed. The music bumped on. I rationalized that if the music was that loud in my apartment, it must be CRUNK over there and they must not have heard me knocking, so I banged again, three times, much harder and louder and resumed waiting. After thirty more minutes, I finally realized that Darnell didn't really give a damn that I was banging on the wall, so I grabbed my phone and speed dialed Courtesy Patrol. Thirty minutes later, I heard a knock next door and the thumping ceased. Nothing was ever said about the incident.

I thought maybe that would be enough warning for them to settle down and I really did believe that they'd chilled out...partially because I'm in the back and can't hear what goes on up front and partially because my hearing sucks due to ceaseless ear infections. My fantasy was shattered after my new roommate, B, moved into the front bedroom, which is just off Estella's living room. Apparently, the night B moved in (and Estella knew that B had moved in because I'd told her and because she saw us moving all B's stuff up the stairs), they threw B a Welcoming Party but forgot to invite her. She said they were up until 6:00 am with the music pounding all night long.

I wrote Estella a polite note asking her to keep in mind that B had moved in and was right next to their entertainment system that they kept blaring until all hours of the morning and could she please tone it down after 1:00 am, which we thought was a reasonable request. She got the note, but apparently didn't really give a shit. The partying didn't stop. Since then, we've called Courtesy Patrol at least three times and have called the police at least three times. On New Years Eve, they had another little gathering, which we were going to be nice and ignore. However, I do feel it necessary to mention that around 2:00 am, the police stopped by (not because we called them) and pounded on the door, demanding that Estella open up, as they had a warrant for the arrest of one of her guests. Awesome.

I finally snapped. It's one thing to have a party every now and then, but to party EVERY SINGLE NIGHT, ALL NIGHT LONG is completely socially retarded. When rent came due, I put a little note in with the check to management to let them know that this apartment alone has called C.P. and the cops a whopping six times, minimum, in the last two weeks and that not only am I afraid for my safety with all the drunken debauchery taking place next door, but I'm effing sick and tired of not getting any damn sleep. These assholes have these huge parties and the idiot teenage girls who are in attendance come outside on the front balcony to talk on their cell phones to their boo's and smoke cigarettes that they probably had to ask someone to buy for them. They don't care that they're standing right outside B's window for their little gossip sessions at 3:00 effing am in the morning.

In my note, I let mgmt know how many times we've had to call in complaints, how the complaints never make a difference, that they've managed to break their front door lockset, their front bedroom window is still broken out, and they punched a hole in the wall of their hallway (another tidbit Estella shared with me in one of her Tourette's moments), that the police have been by with warrants, and that we were tired of not sleeping. When B and I went in a couple of days later to add B to the lease, the manager mentioned that she'd be "taking care of the problem." I happened to mention that Estella was all right, but that ever since Darnell had moved in, things had gone south in a big way. Apparently, Estella didn't check with management to see if it was okay for Darnell to move in. This was the straw that broke the camel's back. I've since found out that as of shortly after receiving my note, management asked Estella to vacate the premises. She has until the end of January.

B and I would be excited if that didn't mean that now Estella is free to party with wild abandon...I mean, what are they gonna do, kick her out? We've called the cops a couple of times since then, which only pisses Estella and her posse off even more. When I was in the hospital last week (see One Time Blog), B came home Thursday night and pulled into a spot next to a white car that two chicks were sitting in it. She got out and went upstairs, the girls watching her all the way. They backed out and had pulled up even with the tail end of B's car and watched her as she walked into our apartment, then pulled away as she closed the door. Her sixth sense told her something shady was up, so she went and grabbed the phone and went back to the front. She walked out the front door just in time to see that the car had pulled around again and were sitting behind her car. As soon as they realized she'd come back outside, they took off. Sooo...we had to call Courtesy Patrol (again) to come over and hang out while B moved her car to a safer location because there was no way I was having her move her car and walk back to the apartment alone with me in the hospital where I wouldn't know if she didn't make it in safely.

We're biding our time until the 31st rolls around, praying with all our might that whoever takes Estella's place is a) 21 or older, b) not a fan of loud, thumping rap music, and c) not overly vocal in bed. I mean, it must be that apartment. Sheezy.

11.26.03
I noticed yesterday as I walked up the stairs to my apartment that, due to a recent cold front, my next door neighbors (remember, the ones who broke their front window to get into their apartment b/c they'd broken their key off in the lock?) had stuffed towels in the hole in the window to keep cold air out. How long ago did they break that glass? And it's still not fixed? First of all, do you WANT someone to break into your house??? Second, it's winter. It's cold. Third, it can't cost that much. Sheez. I thought about calling and getting a cost estimate to find out how much it would run to replace the glass and writing it on a piece of paper, along with the company's name and phone number, and taping it to their door. I'm already a little scared someone will break into my house and my windows aren't broken out. At least while their window is broken I won't have to worry about anyone hitting my place.

In other news, I'm keeping Bek's cat and dog, Bailey and Chloe (respectively) while she and her husband and kid are out of town for Thanksgiving. I think my cat Pete is gay, so I wasn't really worried about him not getting along with Bailey, but I was a bit scared about how Bailey would react to Pete. I brought them home with me last night and as soon as I walked into my apartment, Bailey started growling and hissing. It only got worse from there. I ended up separating them all after less than 30 minutes of interaction because Chloe was running around starting shit with the two cats just for fun. Bailey now resides in the guest room, Chloe is in my room, and Pete has the rest of the apartment. Anytime I want to go in or out of my room, I go into the bathroom from the hall and then into the bedroom from the bathroom...kind of like a canal system. It ensures that no animals will ever come face to face.

Chloe is a pretty sweet little dog...she's a Pomeranian, which I used to think of as "one of those annoying little yippy dogs," but she's very well behaved. Bek's got her kennel trained and house trained so I really don't have to do much. She only yips occasionally and even then it's only one, single yip. I went to bed last night and she jumped up on the bed and curled up by my feet and went to sleep. Good dog.

Work is boring today b/c everyone else took off. I thought I'd be a trooper and stay until 2:00, but it's looking like no. I'm going home now.

Happy Turkey Day, folks...

11.20.03 - rev.2
I forgot to mention that the back left tire on Estella's ride is a donut. It's been on there since she moved in. Okay, that's all.