My last electric bill was $280. This is what my electric bill was in 1974 and 1975. These old bills were in my ex-boyfriend's stuff that he sent me before he died.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
"Alan, Alan, excuse me."
It was the nice young lady who rents the front apartment. I stood up, strategically placing the dustpan in front of me.
"What's up Ms. Tenantinthefront?"
"Our air conditioning isn't working, and I smell something burning."
Yes, there was a smoky smell in the apartment, and yes, the air conditioner was not working, and yes, I did put on some pants before I went over there to investigate. What I wasn't ready for, was spending three thousand dollars on a new air conditioning system. They came and installed it yesterday. At least it has stopped raining.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Yesterday though, there was one car that stood out. It came barreling down the street as I was walking Sasha. As it came close I gave the signal. My hand, palm down, moving towards the pavement in little increments while I looked the driver in the eyes. He didn't seem to care and continued speeding towards us, so I screamed out, "Slow down!" as he passed. A skinny arm came out of the drivers side window, at the end of that arm was a fist with one finger sticking up.
The next day I asked the 'mayor' of 17th Terrace, Miss Diane, if she knew of anybody with a black Mustang. Miss Diane has lived on that street since 1956. She knows everything going on down there.
"Oh sure, that's Mr. Smith. They live down there by that basketball hoop next to the driveway."
So Sasha and I took a little walk down that way. Just as we got near that house, the black Mustang came pulling up in the driveway.
"Do you always give people the finger?" I said as the man got out of his car.
"Were you driving this car yesterday. Somebody was speeding down here in that car, and gave me the finger when I yelled at them to slow down."
"My son had the car yesterday. What did he do?"
"Speeding. Gave me the finger."
I was a little asshole when I was a teenager. I once told a neighbor that I could speed down our street because there was no posted speed. He about blew an artery. He told my dad, and my dad said to me, "What the hell's wrong with you, you stupid asshole. It's a goddamned residential street. The fucking speed limit is twenty, you moron."
So I was very happy yesterday to have returned the favor. Unfortunately I doubt if that kids dad will have the flowery language my dad had.
Monday, June 25, 2012
That of course means I have to go out and get the mail. So I went out to the mail box, and, well hooray, there is no mail. That means there are no bills, and no junk mail in the mail box. You remember the mail box, the single one that the crazy mailman wouldn't let us replace with one for each address on the building.
"You no can have. You get my permission. I say what mail box you have."
Said the crazy mailman who can't speak English, and I suspect cannot even read English.
The next day.
"Did you get the mail?"
Once again, there is no mail. The next day, the same thing except that this time Mark noticed something.
"Where the hell is my Netflix? Netflix is never late. I should have got my movie in the mail two days ago."
Which got me to thinking. One of my tenants has gone away on vacation for two weeks, and he mentioned that he put his mail on hold at the post office. So I called the post office, and asked.
"Do you have mail on hold for #### NE ##th Street?"
Ten minutes later.
"Yes we do. We have mail on hold for Mr. R. Oh, and we also have some mail for Mark and Alan, oh, and also Mr. and Mrs. Tenantinthefront."
So I asked.
"Was the mail put on hold for everyone in the building?"
Surely Mr. R. didn't do that I thought. That would be quite stupid.
"No, no, it's only on hold for Mr. R."
So once again, our crazy mailman has screwed with us. That really pisses me off, but what pisses me off even more, is that the lady at the post office snickered when she told me that our stupid mailman had held everyone's mail.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
"Is that one of the tomatoes from your garden?"
"You bought a tomato?"
"You have tomatoes on the vine out there. Why don't you use those?"
So I grabbed a pair of clippers, and went out to the garden. In two minutes I had three tomatoes, and a bowl of peppers.
"Here, use these. I don't know why you even bother with that goddamned garden. All the money you spend out there, and then you just let everything rot."
That was last week, and that was the moment I decided that I wasn't going to waste anymore expensive water on Mark's garden. Switch to yesterday morning. I was sitting in my office staring out the window (A very effective way of dreaming up these little stories.), and I noticed that there were still a few tomatoes ripening out in the garden. I hadn't been out there in a few days, and in that time the spiders had woven an gigantic web throughout the garden. After beating back the spiders, and tearing into their web, I managed to reach in for the ripest tomato. My hand stuck to it as if it were covered in glue. But it wasn't glue, it was whitefly poop. The entire garden was doused with whitefly poop, making everything out there inedible.
"Why is my garden dead? Why haven't you been watering it?"
"Whitefly poop. Everything is covered in whitefly poop. You don't want to eat whitefly poop do you?"
That is such a great excuse, I just might use it next year. Only earlier.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Geez my feet were hurting. All afternoon yesterday it seemed as though my feet wanted to go their own way. I have a problem with my feet caused by chemo-therapy. It's called peripheral neuropathy. Some days are worse than others, so when I noticed increased pain in my toes, and pressure on the bottom of my feet, it didn't surprise me. The only thing was that all my usual ways of dealing with the pain wasn't working. I took some aspirin, then I sat back in my recliner chair, and still my feet didn't feel right. I took off my little Nike slipper thingys that my mom bought me, and that gave me some relief, but as soon as I put them back on the discomfort continued. Finally, at around five in the evening, when I was preparing to walk Chandler, I went to take off my slipper thingys, and put on my shoes. When I looked down at my feet, the reason for all the discomfort became evident.
Monday, June 18, 2012
So it had come to that, we're just friends. Well I don't want another friend, I want a good, honest, mechanic within walking distance to my house. Now I have to go through that whole rigmarole again of one day stands, trying out new guy after new guy. I'll have to leave the car with a total stranger, and trust that he will be kind, and not overcharge me.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
So this morning I was walking Chandler, and we came to his favorite pooping grounds down by the church. As usual Chandler sniffed and snorted his way along the fence, searching for that perfect spot to drop his poo pile. This morning however, I noticed that there was a mocking bird in the bushes above Chandler, making odd noises. It kept dancing from branch to branch, until it came flying out of the bush straight for my head. It was very Hitchcock like. Then, just as Chandler had finally found his spot, and got into his squat to take a crap, another bird came zooming down from the utility wires above and pecked him on the ass. Chandler immediately jumped up from the pooping position, and spun around, looking for the culprit. That's when both birds came swooping down, one aiming for my head, and the other for Chandler's butt. Obviously there was a nest nearby. Either that, or they were playing their own version of Angry Birds.
Monday, June 11, 2012
"This looks so much better than that thing you have out on the porch now. I'm going to buy it."
"Sure, it'll look so much better, and I'll pay for it. All you have to do is put it up."
"Oh, it's heavy. Help me put it in the cart."
Well, that thing sat on the floor of our living room for over two weeks before I finally gave in and installed it. The job wasn't easy, and I gave my neighbors a new lesson in how many ways to use curse words, but it's up. So now, after two hours of working in ninety degree heat, and ninety percent humidity, not to mention the hoards of mosquito's drilling into my skin, the cats now have a new fan. The only problem is that even on high speed it seems to barely move the air. The poor cats are laying out on the porch, under that fan, sweating their little asses off. It does light the porch up nicely at night though. In fact it has the brightest light that I have ever seen on a ceiling fan. Just the thing to attract more of those blood thirsty mosquito's.
Friday, June 8, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
I've battled iguanas, rats, possums, and various other odd critters over the years, but this white crap was something new. I mentioned it to the nice lesbian down the street, and she immediately said, "White flies, you have white flies. I've been cleaning up that mess out of our pool all week."
So I looked it up on the Google, and sure enough, we are infested with white flies. Spiraling white flies to be specific. The worst part about it is that there appears to be no known remedy for the little bastards. As for the frog eggs, I find that if I over chlorinate the pool it keeps them from hatching. Unfortunately it does not make them go away. So if anybody enjoys swimming in a nice pool with a thin layer of weird goo on top of the water, this is the place. The only other alternative I can think of is a catfish farm. Yum, fresh catfish right outside my door.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
That was last week. Seeing that horror finally caused me to do something about this pile of lard wrapped in skin that I am. This week I now have a beautiful stationary bike sitting in my office that I bought from Walmart. I purchased it on line because I can't stand the smell inside an actual Walmart. The reviews on line were all glowing, and for once a product that I have purchased, that was made in China, and I had to put together myself, is actually of high quality. It is rugged, and stable. It does everything that was promised, and it can also be folded away. Of course I will never fold it away, it has already become a handy place to hang Alicia's clothes.
Monday, June 4, 2012
A friend of mine told me about how he came home from work and found one of his kitchen cabinets laying on the floor of the kitchen. It had ripped away from the wall and smashed onto the floor. He said there were broken dishes and stuff all over the place. I mean, have you ever even considered such a thing happening in your house? Anyway, I thought it was a bit humorous that his house was falling down around him. A week later I talked to him again, and he mentioned that the cabinet was still on the floor, and that he had to keep walking around it every time he went in the kitchen. Suddenly the situation went from humorous to sad. It did get me to thinking though. I put up our kitchen cabinets just over ten years ago. I used three inch long screws, and fastened them securely into a two by six stud that ran across the entire kitchen wall. Certainly I have nothing to worry about.
Then I opened the cabinets, and took a closer look. I forgot that I live with a hoarder.
Then I opened the cabinets, and took a closer look. I forgot that I live with a hoarder.
There must be a couple of hundred pounds of canned goods in the one on the right alone.