Crankypantsing

Not Crankypantsing About Mr. Upstairs

1. The Bumpasses, bless their hearts, decided to watch the 11:00 news last night at a volume that surely made their ears bleed, because mine were dangerously close to bursting. The television finally went off around 12:30, which is way past my bedtime.

2. The complex I live in is made up of two horseshoe shaped courts. At the center of each horseshoe is a parking lot, which the apartments in that court all face. In my court, there are two families living on opposite sides of the parking lot who do not understand that patios (the concrete slabs in back of the apartments, yaknow?) are for partying. These two families–complete with squealing children–are stoop-sitters and party out front. They also like to communicate with each other by yelling across the parking lot, at the tops of their lungs. I find this behavior thoroughly baffling. It’s like they are partying together, yet separately. And loudly!

3. On my way to the laundry room last night, I noticed that the hallway smelled like bleach (not that unusual) and that the carpet outside the Bumpasses apartment was stained and soaking wet (very unusual). Should we be looking for a body?

4. I came home one day last week to find that one of my across-the-court neighbors had cranked up his stereo so loudly that I could hear it inside my apartment. I can’t even hear thunder or sirens inside my apartment, so that’s no mean feat. Double-paned windows and brick facade, you have failed me!

5. One of my neighbors owns a big-assed Cadillac (complete with fancified rims and a muffler that’s strapped into place with an old jump rope). The car is so ginormous that it does not fit into normal sized parking spaces. It hangs half-way over the sidewalk, and the other end still sticks out into the through-way. Yesterday, it was parked in the spot perpendicular to mine, with its ass end blocking my car, so that I could not pull out.

6. Number 5 is the same car that is often parked in the fire lane. Sometimes its evil twin from across the court, the acid green Cadillac, is parked there instead.

Random notes

1. I have not seen Mr. White Pit Bull (or the dog herself) in a couple of weeks. I wonder if he moved out? Or did he just get rid of his dog?

2. I have decided that Mr. Upstairs looks more like Rumpelstiltskin than Milton. Don’t ask me how I know what Rumpelstiltskin looks like, I just do.

A work-related rant:

One of my coworkers recently sold her house and is moving into a mobile home. Why, I’m not sure, but that’s not really any of my business. Except it is, because she’s done most of the realtor-ing from work, while she was on the clock. Not cool. It’s one thing to take care of the odd personal problem while you’re working (that’s what breaks are for!), but another to save it all up and treat work like it’s your own personal office.

Anyway, yesterday, when she returned from her morning break, she decided to take care of switching over her utilities. First, it was a 15 minute call to the water company. That made a certain amount of sense, because they are only open during work hours. Except, my coworker has a flex schedule and only works half days on Fridays, so she could have dealt with the water company then, instead of waiting until Monday.

After the water company, she called AT&T. WTF? Not only can you change/add/disconnect service with them online, but they have 24/7 phone support. There is no reasonable excuse for calling the phone company during work hours. She was on the phone with them for almost an hour, setting up phone, DSL, and satellite television service.

When she finally got off the phone, she commented that she was glad the call was finished before noon, because it was time for lunch. I think that’s when my head exploded. It must be nice to get paid to take care of personal business, plus getting to take a lunch (and breaks!) on top of it.

The mind wobbles!

Crankypantsing

Update

I have returned from hunting and gathering, and I have acquired the new Harry Potter book. In doing so, I managed to break a nail. Shopping is hard work. Y’all remember that the next time you are tempted to pick on Paris Hilton.

Now, do I try to finish re-reading the 5th and 6th books, or do I just dive into the new one?

Also, there is more Hoovering going on upstairs. How much vacuuming does a 700 square foot apartment require? A lot, apparently.

Crankypantsing, Music

Bad Touch Bob

I woke up this morning to someone out in the parking lot singing–at the top of his lungs–the chorus from Bob Seger’s Fire Down Below. Oh my. I really, really, really do not like Bob Seger. He grosses me out in a greasy, foul, lecherous old guy way. Bad touch!

Anyway, that wasn’t such a good way to wake up. I am hopeful that a little Harry Potter therapy will bleach the memory from my brain.

In other news, I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of much vacuuming, stomping, and hammering. I can’t imagine why anyone would suddenly get the urge to start hammering at midnight on a Thursday. The mind, it doth wobble.

That is all. As you were, comrades.

Crankypantsing

Smell-O-Vision

This is the week of the big outside consultants’ evaluation. This means there are lots of meetings and lots of people to-ing and fro-ing and wandering through our department on their way to and from the conference room. Not at all distracting! Ahem.

Anyway, the consultants began the week with a library-wide presentation. I hate being crammed into a huge lecture hall with a bunch of strangers, mostly because it’s inevitable that someone obnoxious will sit next to me. I thought I was going to be lucky this time, though. There were a few stragglers, but no one took the seat next to mine. And then, about halfway through the presentation, it happened. There was one last straggler.

Oh. My. God. I have never smelled anything quite like the olfactory cloud enveloping the woman who sat next to me. It was a mixture of rancid onions and garlic, with an undertone of something equally rank but unidentifiable. I turned half-way toward the person on my other side, covered my nose with my hand, and I still could not escape the smell. It was just awful.

But, wait, it gets worse! I was crammed all the way into the far side of my seat, but the woman kept elbowing me and hitting me with her foot. I’m sorry, but she had no business invading my seat space. She was in the end seat and had plenty of room to lean out into the aisle, so there was no need for her to take up any of my space. Hrmf!

Later in the day, I walked past the cubicle cluster where she works, and the same smell was present. It had radiated a full 15-20 feet from were she was sitting. I feel sorry for her cube neighbors.

As for the presentation, the first half was fine. I have absolutely no idea what was covered in the second half. I was a little distracted.

Also, y’all should be thankful that there is no smell-o-vision. My eyes were literally watering.

Crankypantsing

The Point

The point of my “busy weekend” story was that I have not yet read, or even purchased, the new Harry Potter book. I won’t be able to get to it until this weekend, at the earliest. I expect the big surprise will be ruined for me, by then, but I’m trying to stay away from spoilers1. And, to be honest, I’d like to finish re-reading the other books before I start the final one. I’m about half-way through The Order of the Phoenix, so I’ve got a ways to go, yet.

And, no, I still haven’t managed to see the movie. Hrmf!

In other news, Tammy Faye passed away over the weekend. I had a huge soft spot for her. She always struck me as a genuinely good sort of person. So, goodbye, Tammy Faye. I hope you finally get to have your hamburger.

_____________________________________
1 Which may not be as easy as one might think. While I was quietly working on the computer yesterday, Mr. Upstairs turned on the news. They were discussing the new Harry Potter book2, so I quickly put on some music to block out any possible spoilers. This is going to be a long, long week.

2Well of course the volume was so loud I could hear every word. DUH.

Crankypantsing

Excessive is…

Thirty-seven subject headings in a single item record. Seriously. That’s beyond overkill.

At the other end of the spectrum is a classed together monographic series that is not identified on the book and has not been included in the bib record. How the heck am I supposed to know that this item is from that series? Magic? ESP? Reading the entrails of a suckling pig at midnight on the vernal equinox?

Crankypantsing

O Ick

I woke up this morning with a sore throat. I think it’s just allergies, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying. Ugh. And, I don’t imagine that the lack of sleep, from which I am only slowly recovering, has helped one little bit. Even though I tried to go to bed at a reasonable hour on Sunday night, there were so many fireworks (still!) that it was a lost cause. It started with the Bumpasses, who were lighting bottle rockets in the back field, and ended up with someone from the other side of the court setting off ginormous wads of firecrackers in the parking lot. Every 30 minutes. Until 2am. When I went out to walk the dog Monday morning, there was a mass of red firecracker debris in the parking lot, mounded up right behind my car.

Now, tell me, what sort of jerk sets off firecrackers in the middle of the night, in a densely populated area, right next to someone’s car? I’d be seriously pissed off if my car were damaged by fireworks.

And then, of course, because I only got a couple of hours of sleep on Sunday night, Mr. Upstairs kept me up most of Monday night. Aieee! He does seem to be getting a little better, though, so I’m trying not to let myself get too irritated with him. He’s not blasting his television quite so loudly, and when he does have it on, it’s during sane hours. He’s also stopped jogging on the treadmill at 3am, for which I am deeply grateful. That said, he spent most of last night stomping around, and even with a box fan on high for white noise, he woke me up several times.

Which brings me to my amusing link of the day: The Astoria Notes. I read these awhile back, when I stumbled across a link to them on another blog. They were mentioned again, in comments at Passive Aggressive Notes, so I thought I’d share.

Crankypantsing, Meta

Flickr

My Flickr Pro account expired today, so everything has reverted to freebie account status. I’m seriously tempted to ditch Flickr completely, because they are tied to the heinous Yahoo-SBC-AT&T megacorporateclusterfuck. Every interaction I’ve had with AT&T has been worse than the last, so I’m really not interested in giving another penny to them or to any company they have assimilated.

On the other hand, Flickr is a great networking opportunity. On the other-other hand, I’m not using it to its advantage, so why bother? And, it’s not like I need the web space, because my host provides a metric butt load of it.

(Guess what? It’s 9:59 pm and it sounds like Mr. Upstairs is finally getting out of bed. This means he should be hitting the treadmill by about 2am. The treadmill is, I may or may not have previously mentioned, directly above my bed. I have to get up at 4am. That’s not gonna happen if he wakes me up again. I know that, because every day this week I’ve slept through my alarm and been about 30 minutes late for work. I expect I’ll be late tomorrow, too. I ought to send him a bill for missed work hours.)

Crankypantsing

Ramblings

Somehow, the last two weeks have managed to slip by without me noticing them. I missed the solstice. I will, however, attest to the fact that summer has well and truly arrived in southern Indiana. It is right some Jesus hot outside today, and muggy, too. O gross. This is, however, the first time ever that I have had central AC, so I’m not going to complain too much about the unholy weather. It is made all the sweeter by the fact that I have to do zero mowing. I’m sure y’all are pleased about that, too, as I recall spending a good portion of last summer (and the one before, too, probably) endlessly whinging about the endless goddamn mowing.

Speaking of central AC, one thing I have noticed is that I don’t need (or even like) the temperature to be very cool. With a window unit, the air remained pretty humid, so it never felt cool, no matter how long the AC ran. What I notice now is that the air is dry in my apartment, not that it is particularly cool. I do not have gills, so dry is good, and it is cool enough to be comfortable.

Finger update: All is well! The scab, such as it was (mostly, it wasn’t), is long gone, and in its place is a weird, Grand Canyon sort of scar. The edges of the scar are peeling at each layer, which is kind of funky. I was worried for a few days, because the skin around the cut hardened and I lost sensation in that area. The nerves must be fine, though, because the feeling has returned to normal.

I may actually have the time, the ability, and the inclination to do some arting this weekend. Finally!