Saturday, November 20, 2004

I only hate a few people now

A follow-up to this post and a few others...

As instructed, I called my old building's management office again on Thursday at 10 am. Then again an hour later. Then again at 4:30. I never spoke to the phantom "Eric," but by the end of the day I was kindly told that there had been a miscommunication of some kind, and that I could expect my check by December 1st. I was so tired of the whole thing I didn't point out that I had been told November 1 on October 15, November 15 on November 1, and now I was being told December 1 on November 18. There's clearly a pattern here. We'll see what happens. It's almost a shame I'm working full time during normal people hours again, or I'd plan on schlepping out to their office on the 1st and camping out until I get my money.

On the bright side, I made all these calls from our land-line, which is working just fine. And in an odd twist of fate, I called a friend who lives in the neighborhood later that day, and it turns out we have her old number! She never took it out of her cell phone so I came up on her caller ID as "Home" and freaked her out pretty thoroughly. Fun!


In other home news, I made what I hope to be my last trip to Ikea this morning. You all know how I love the Ikea, but I'm over it. They didn't have the blinds we wanted for our bedroom last time I went, but since it's the bedroom and those windows really need to be covered, we got something cheap and temporary. It looked pretty assy, so I've been checking the stock availability online and went back today for what we really wanted, plus some more hooks on which to hang kitchen things. I figured I'd attempt to return the old ones too, even though I didn't have the packaging and left some of the hardware on my walls to save time installing the new ones, and to my great surprise they gave me a full refund (on my card, not even store credit!). Of course, the store was a madhouse and I think I may have killed a slow-moving woman and her screaming baby, so I'm staying away for a while.


Then there are the crazy downstairs neighbors. We still haven't met our poltergeist, and we hadn't heard from the whackos downstairs since we moved in. Until last night, when someone banged on our floor while I wasn't making any noise. I was sitting on the kitchen floor cleaning our metal baker's rack, and I ran the sponge across it in a way that made the metal sort of ring. But it was a soft sound, sort of nice in my opinion, like something from a Mickey Hart album. And I'm sure it reverberated down through the floor, but it was like a second, before 8 pm on a Saturday night, in a room where I assume no one was sleeping. And they banged on the ceiling? For the rest of the night every time I bumped something I paused, actually hoping they'd come to the door or bang again so I could go down and say, "Hi, I dropped a feather duster and I'm barefoot and the TV is off so you need to chill the fuck out." Earlier this week Boy ran into our upstairs neighbor in the elevator and he said, "I've been meaning to come down and apologize... I have 2 little girls and sometimes I can't stop them from running around." We'd noticed of course, and it was very sweet of him to say something, but if it's not moving huge oak furniture at 2 am or blasting the stereo at ear-bleeding volume, a little noise is just a part of apartment living. We hear the footsteps from above, and the TV from next door, and sometimes voices from the building across the way, and even the subway when the wind is right. Get over it.

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