|DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID|
|The neighbors downstairs are ruining my life. Well, not my entire life, but the at home, serene, enjoying the crisp, fall air and listening to the birds part of my life that I so cherish... I'm sad about that.
These two yahoos are all about the smoking, and the staying up late. They don't want to stink up their apartment, so they go on the front porch to smoke. The smoke stench goes up, and right into my front room through the sliding glass door.
Ya know what? I smoked for 20 years. I smoked indoors like a true American. My apartment stunk because I smoked. I don't see the logic behind willfully ruining one's health, creating a personal body stank from the smoke, and yet living in some kind of smoker's denial - "oh, we dont' want our posessions to smell of cigarettes" Why not, YOU stink of 'em!
I don't want to have to sit like some trapped animal, all closed up in my apartment because they choose to blow their stupid smoke rings outside! I already went through nicotine withdrawl - and believe me, it WASN'T pretty. I certainly do not deserve to smell their second-hand stench now.
In addition, because they are young and have excess energy, they are up all hours of the night. Porch lights ablaze. So, my owl buddy has found another place to hoot. Between the not-so sliding glass door opening every frikkin hour on the hour, and the bright lights, and the incessant giggling - he's outa here...
There's not much I can do to stop them. They're not creating a big enough problem - no fighting, except the one at 4 a.m. this past week - he smashed something and broke it - (crack anyone?) and she was crying. Smoking cigarettes on one's own balcony with the lights on is not something they can get in trouble for...
So, I'm just sad. I loved my apartment in the trees. I loved hearing the birdies all night. Now, I only hear THEM I hate them.
SLAY ON BUFFY!!
|Buh Bye! |
October 05, 2008
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One Last Bitchfest for the Road
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I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
|Marriage is love.|