It’s jazz hour at Club Upstairs. Not only that, but it’s audience participation night. There’s nothing quite like wacky jazz with random xylophone accompaniment.
Tag: Milton
It’s Random Monday
1. My new computer will be here on Thursday, assuming that FedEx can find my apartment in a timely manner.
2. Traffic on Hwy45, between B-ton and Unionville is kind of crazy. And by crazy, I mean that the drivers might actually be legit insane.
3. In a fit of collaging mania, I finished the Balancing Equations art journal over the weekend. It has about 20 two-page spreads, in all, so it’s not a huge journal. It’s a nice size, though, so I think I’ll probably make the next one in the same basic dimensions and with the same number of pages. If everything goes well (see #1), I should have scans by Friday or Saturday.
4. I hate my bank. I tried to make an ATM deposit this morning, but they were out of envelopes at one of the main branches. Hrmf. I could see if it were a stand-alone ATM, because those are more difficult for them to keep an eye on. An ATM that is actually attached to a bank ought to be monitored more closely than that, though.
5. Mr. Upstairs has taken to sleeping all day long, and watching television at night. I’m sure you can just imagine how, um, happy this makes me. And by happy, I mean possessed of an aneurysm-inducing level of irritation. Also, hemorrhaging ear drums. I hate having to complain to the management folks about him, and I really don’t want to get someone evicted for being an asswagon, but I prefer my brain and ears to be aneurysm and hemorrhage free, thankyouverymuch.
6. Speaking of Mr. Upstairs, he has now added a couple of random notes to his keyboard scales. Not the same random notes two scales in a row, mind you, and I’m not sure the extemporizing is a good idea, but it does make for a bit of variety. I think he should stop listening to the jazz music channel, though, because it appears to be giving him the strange notion that he is some sort of jazz musician.
7. Via Andy, Bush has a bald head fetish. Also, a turkey fetish. Kink one is okay, but kink 2, not so much.
8. Also via Andy, YMCA. I’ve seen this one before, but had forgotten about it.
9. I got polled by the CBS Evening News. It was a surprisingly thorough–taking about 30 minutes. Most of the questions were about immigration, with some about Chimpy McFlightsuit and his merry band of thugs. Polls are misleading, and if you take enough of them, you start to see how easily they can be manipulated. Still, I can’t help but appreciate that someone actually asked my random opinion on the world events. The results of the poll will be on the CBS Evening News Wednesday night, and on the CBS and New York Times websites Thursday morning.
Mystery Solved
Do you ever have one of those days that should be skipped? When you know you should just go back to bed and try again tomorrow? Well, it’s early yet, but today seems to be heading down that path.
I got up this morning–after being kept awake half the night by Mr. Upstairs stomping around his apartment–to find that some jerk had parked a U-Haul behind my car. What the hell?! So I had to wander around the apartment complex, looking for a likely suspect. Knocking on strangers’ doors is not on my to-do list, and having to do so at 6am is enough to make my head implodiate. I did finally find our neighborhood asschapeau, though, by knocking on doors of apartments without curtains.
Speaking of Mr. Upstairs, I had to call and complain about him again. The office person said that the complaints do go in his file, and that after so many (she didn’t quantify “so many”) they will take action. She didn’t say if action meant fines or eviction or what, and I didn’t ask, because I was too cranky. It was good to find out that he really is being given written notification of each complaint, and that they are anonymous. Not that he couldn’t figure out that I’m the irritated party, but still.
In better news, Miss Brown received another compliment on her deportment. I believe the exact words were “What a good dog!” Ha! She is charming, for sure, but believe me, it is all a carefully calculated act. Also, while outside on her tie-out, she played peek-a-boo with my across-the-hall neighbor, who said it was very cute. Neighbor said she went out on her patio, and Harriet had her head craned around the end of the privacy fence partition, watching her. She called to Harriet, who ducked back around to our side of the partition. I was watching Harriet from inside my apartment, and it was pretty darned cute.
And speaking of my across-the-hall neighbor, she solved the Mr. Raccoon mystery! She puts out food for the stray cats, and Mr. Raccoon has been thieving it for years. He’s apparently quite brazen, and will hang around her patio and even peer into her window at dinner time.
Also, three more two-page spreads in the Equations art journal. If I keep this up, I may finish it before next Giftmas!
Milton Sighting
Folks, I just saw Milton, getting out of his car. In the light of day. And guess what? He has one of those piercingly loud car alarm arm/disarm thingumies. Shocking, I know, that he’d have a loud, obnoxious car. And he’s arming/disarming it every frigging time he goes to the car for another load of groceries! WTF? When I bring in things from the car, I leave the back door hanging wide open. I can’t imagine that our tiny apartment complex is teeming with thieves, but even if it were, if someone wanted my toilet paper and rice badly enough to steal it, then they probably need it worse than I do, and they’re welcome to it.
Also, I’m 99% positive, based on where that car is usually parked, that it’s the one whose alarm has gone off several nights in a row. Milton must sleep with earplugs, because it took him about half an hour to get his ass outside to turn it off, last time. How anyone withing a mile radius of here escaped without bleeding ears is a mystery.
Happy National Library Workers’ Day
It’s National Library Workers’ Day, and as a token of appreciation, the dean’s office handed out sport bottles with the li-barry logo on them. As I was not expecting anything, I suppose I shouldn’t complain. However, somehow, I am underwhelmed. Maybe I’d be more impressed if the water here didn’t taste like it was filtered through an old gym shoe? It’s absolutely undrinkable, unless you add Emergen-C to it, to freshen it up.
I am also T-I-R-E-D. Mr. Upstairs woke me up at the ass crack of dawn yesterday, with his television blasting away. It was my one morning to sleep in, of course. I got up and got ready to take Harriet out. As I was sitting on the couch, putting on my shoes, I heard the upstairs sliding door open. When Harriet and I went outside, there was a big splat of liquid on my patio. The jackass had dumped something over the edge of his balcony again.
Grrr. It looks like I’ll need to call again to complain. And while I’m at it, I’m tempted to bitch about the hummense Cadillac that is always parked in the fire lane. I counted no fewer than 16 empty spots this morning, when I was out with the dog, so it’s not like the car’s owner is parking illegally because there are no available spots. He just likes to park in the fire lane. The problem is that A) that’s dangerous and B) everyone who parks perpendicular to the fire lane has trouble backing out. I had to do a three point turn just to back out this morning, and even then, I very nearly clipped his tail end. Fuckwit! And, parking there creates a bottleneck, so that two cars cannot pass each other.
I mentioned that I’m tired? There’s not enough caffeine in the world to keep me awake today, so I have a feeling that I’ll be doing sleep dips soon. Hrmf!
(Photo: Electric Pole 1 April 2007)
YouTube Gems
Before going to bed last night, I took out the dog and called the weather line. The temperature was 46F. Anyone want to guess whose air conditioner was running?
This has been floating around for awhile now, but just in case there is anyone out there who missed the darling otters, check it out. Right now.
And if you need a chaser for all that cuteness, there ya’ go. Never before have I been faced with the realities of simultaneously peeing my pants with laughter whilst vomiting. And, on second thought, perhaps that explains the laughing gnome? Hmmm.
Mr. Upstairs Update
Sunlight on Rain Drops on Wood Post
I think he may have received his noisy bastard letter. His radio was blasting jazz when I got home, then it switched to blathering pundits, but by 7:00 he’d turned it off entirely, and he was quiet for the rest of the evening. It’s almost too good to be true. I guess the acid test will be how much noise he makes over the weekend.
And while I’m crankypantsing, I recently downgraded to the one-at-a-time Netflix plan. I noticed that they seem to think that means I don’t want my fil-ums as quickly, because an extra day has been added to the turn-around time. Not cool! I returned Tideland on Tuesday, and will supposedly receive my next disc today. I should have received it yesterday. Waaah!
Lovebird Feathers and Puppy Teeth
Andy sent me some puppy teeth and feathers from their lovebirds. Um, the feathers are from their lovebirds, and the teeth belonged to a visiting puppy. The feathers are bitty, but I think I’ll be able to incorporate them into something.
In other news, I finally managed to get fed up enough to complain about Mr. Upstairs. Boy did I not want to do that, but I really didn’t have a choice. Yesterday, I was treated to the twin blarings of his television and jazz music. I’m sorry, but I draw the line at being invaded by a jazz band. The office manager’s response to Mr. Upstairs dumping random crap on my patio was “Eeeew!” She said they’d send him a letter, so hopefully within a day or two, the noise level will drop, and things stop falling from the sky.
Department of Complaints Department
It’s supposed to get up to 78F today, with storms late in the afternoon. Tonight, the low is supposed to be 28F. It was a little chilly last night (I’m guessing it was about 50F when I got up). Too cool for a fan, but too warm not to have it on. Unfortunate, because the fan provides white noise, which masks some of the weird, random sounds that come from upstairs during the night.
Which brings me to my complaint o’ the day. Why, oh why, is it necessary for Mr. Upstairs to practice scales at 4am? Up-up-up-up-up, down-down-down-down-down. I usually get up at 4:30, so I didn’t appreciate being waked up a half hour early by him plunking on the keyboard. And stomping in time with the, um, “music.” That went on until I left at 5:45.
He’s also added an early evening session of step aerobics to his routine, of which I approve in theory (exercise is good!) but cannot abide in practice (step aerobics is noisy!).
I’m going to have to complain to the management folks. I don’t want to. Really, really, really, I don’t. I have a feeling that the guy has bigger issues than just being an asshole, and it’s probably not fair to expect him to have any concept of what constitutes socially acceptable behavior. But, damnit, he’s driving me to tears!
In other crazy neighbor news, a new tenant moved into the apartment above the Bumpases. He’s got a cute little white Pit Bull, but she’s an obnoxious pain in the ass. He left her out on the balcony most of the day on Sunday, and she bark-bark-barked at every little thing. And when I took Harriet out for her afternoon potty break, she snarled and growled and flung herself at the balcony railing, trying to get to Harriet. Not good. She’s up on the third floor, and I’d hate to see her fall. I also think she’s awfully young to be exhibiting that level of dog aggression, even for a Pit Bull. They usually don’t get snarky until they’re a year or two old, and this girl is maybe 4-5 months old.
Yesterday’s Doodle
Doodle
RoseArt gel pen on 90lb Stonehenge paper
7 1/2 x 5 5/8 inches
I’m really starting to wonder if Milton might have a developmental disability. He threw the mother of all non-verbal screaming fits this morning, complete with stomping and throwing things. If he does, that might explain his behavior, though it doesn’t do a damned thing to make my life any easier.
red paper boat 
