Some odds, ends and my own wars at home

Boy. It sure has been awhile. No excuses.

Actually...

Here's some excuses (updates of what's been going on with Joey D.):

1. I've been sick as a frickin' dog: I'm currently working on day-10 of a cold, which is a load of B.S. since I usually kick these things in five-to-seven days. I'm fully functional. It's not like I'm bed-ridden or anything. It's just that the clogged sinuses are lingering longer than I'd like. Guh.

2. Our asshole white-trash neighbors: In July, a young couple moved next door to us to replace the previous young couple (Brad and Heather). Brad and Heather had two dogs, a cat, a turtle, a bird, and god knows what else. The new young couple has a three-year old kid. Guess which neighbors were quieter...

For recreation, the new couple (they kept to themselves so much that we never did learn their names) have taken to getting shit-faced and screaming at each other. This could happen any day, Sunday thru Saturday, and always occurs between 2:00 and 6:00 a.m. Jen has called the police on them twice, and inevitably, police visits are followed by a 250-percent increase in the volume of their screaming. The screaming usually involves death threats to friends, neighbors, family and each other, all while their child cries, completely forgotten, in the background.

Our apartment manager served them with an eviction notice last Wednesday. They're supposed to be gone by the end of the month. I hope their next residence is either a quiet house in the country or The Overlook Hotel. I don't think either one of them works. Maybe a job as the winter caretaker of a Colorado Hotel would be just what they need to cut down on the spousal and child abuse.

I'm not being completely flip about that last line. Yes. The proper agencies have been notified anonymously. Seriously though, I think that kid is already screwed for life, and it's entirely his parents' fault.

3. Our War at Home: As Jen completes her Landscape Architecture degree at Chatham, we've decided to dig in and live for the next three years in our current place. The complex really is idyllic. We're always against rush hour traffic. It's quiet (or will be once the neighbors leave). It's right off of a park with woods in which our dog can crap unfettered (I have never, nor will I ever, follow my dog around with a plastic poop bag).

The only problem is that the walls are painted a high-gloss manilla folder color. It's not so bad in the daylight, but come winter, when it's always dark and our lamps are on, it just feels dark and dirty and depressing.

Since we'll be here awhile longer, we've decided to just go white. Clean. Bright. The problem is, while we paint, the place is a wreck. Nothing's where it belongs, and there's still a lot of work to do. I can't wait until it's done. Because right now, I put in eight hours at a crappy job and come home to a place that's even more stressful. Each day is another step towards sanity, though. I just keep telling myself that.

4. The actual War at Home: Don't worry. I have the last two episodes on tape. I haven't forgotten about them. I intend to get up to date, and thanks to a Steelers bye-week, I'm certain I can getterdone, as the saying goes. Your patience is appreciated.

5. Let's get out of this on a high note: I just scored a 121,490 in Pac Man. Hells... yeah...