Flakeville

I think we live in flake land. We had five visits lined up yesterday, two were late and three didn't show up at all. We tried something different this weekend, we asked the prospective renters to visit at a convenient time for THEM, and they still don't bother to come. Is it just a pastime like ding dong ditch? Schedule apartment visits and then flake on them? Weird. (In the way discovering a turd in your bed in the morning is weird.)

Would that sunrises would pay the bills. The guy upstairs hasn't paid his rent yet, and with the three empty apartments and flakiness, the fear is all around me looking for a crack in my armor. This usually happens at about three in the morning, when I wake up and upstairs guy decides to do his laundry. My mind swirls with hate and fear and sleep is unreattainable. Today, we have to confront him again.

And that welfare girl? Hey we do have a heart. We set up a time for her to look at the apartment, and you guessed it, she didn't show up. Like Woody Allen said, 90 % of success is showing up.

Another gorgeous Saturday sunrise

I think once things get sorted out, I'm really going to dig living here.

Snippets

* Apparently, fish do feel pain.

* Never buy any kind of tape at the dollar store. It will always vex you later.

* I am a junior, thus my father shares my name.

* If Pluto's not a planet, what are its three moons revolving around?

* Here's a little secret about me: I score poorly on reading comprehension tests. Moreover, I usually disagree with what I'm told are the correct answers.

* Stupid people leave messages like this when looking for an apartment:

- Hi, my name is Jack, I'm calling about the apartment. Please call me back. Thank you. (What's your phone # numbnuts?)

- (squalling babies in the background) Hi I'm very interested in the apt for rent, I'm single and have three kids. I'm on welfare, but I can borrow the money for a deposit. Please call back at xxx-xxxx.

- Um, uhhh, I'm calling on the apartment, because well, um, uhhh I need one. (Heavy sigh) My number is xxx-xxxx.

* With troubled times comes learning. Lately I've learned that no matter how busy I think I am, I am always capable of accomplishing more.

* If facts can be misleading, why do we give them so much credit?

* I bet you can't say the name "Peggy Babcock" three times fast.

Bath balls and rubber

Spouse and I had a moment of discord over the weekend. Throughout all of this saga, we have been each other's support, but amidst all the stress, we were bound to snap at one another eventually.

He had prepared a bath and placed candles around it. We were going to take our first bath in years! (Our last place only had a shower.) As we nestled into the tub together we started talking about the flaky renters and how we should proceed. And somewhere in there I said, "You need to grow some balls."

Yes, I can be a vicious son of a bitch too. It should be no surprise that bathtime ended rather abruptly. I really blew that one.

He did, however, produce the balls of which I spoke and phoned the leaseless (deadbeat) tenant to tell him he had 24 hours to pay or we'd empty his apartment of his things.

The tenant showed up a half hour later with a check. We were mollified although the check couldn't be cashed until Tuesday, after the holiday weekend.

Whaddaya know but the guy showed up at midnight Monday night and moved all his stuff out.

I smell rubber.

Living in perpetual angst

2 months ago, we started to look for an investment. Little did we know that we'd move to a new place and disrupt our lives so fundamentally. They say it's good to get out of your comfort zone and take risks. Okay, maybe, but it sure isn't feeling good.

It seems like we've been waiting perpetually for the other shoe to drop and we're in Imelda Marcos' closet during an earthquake.

I suppose with 7 (gasp) rental units, this would be expected, the constant running after the late paying renters and all their "concerns".

When I used to wait tables, I could leave work and completely forget about it. Now, I feel like this "business" we've embarked on takes up all my brain's real estate making me distracted at my job, unfocused at home, and banal on the blog.

Fried, burned out and broke. Plus it's Wednesday. Sigh.

Question of the day

Of all the courses I've ever taken from elementary to University, the most useful class I ever took was 7th grade typing. As I recall, I couldn't get into my preferred electives, so I chose typing as the booby prize. But the teacher was good - and ruthless. I didn't like him which is why I can't remember his name. He MADE us learn even if we didn't want to. But I can safely say that now, it is the one skill that I appreciate daily. It is amazing to me how many people use the two finger method. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

What about you? I know that the Calculus, History of Slavic Civilization, Costume Design (I was a drama major haha) and Civics classes that I took don't really come into relevance much in the day to day. What class do you most appreciate from your educative history?

Happy Thanksgiving slash Columbus Day

Last night the little couple from France came up and asked to get out of their lease. In a stunning move included in the chapter "how not to be a landlord", we acquiesced saying only that they were on the hook until we found someone else. They're kind of nit picky anyway, so it's not all bad news. Oh and they saw a mouse. I guess we have mice. Great, now I have to murder creatures.

I could get all worked up about things around here, but then I remember there are the daily sunrises. I spent my adolescence in a room that had a sunrise view. I grew to loathe that sun, even going so far as to put velcro strips around the window and affixing an opaque vinyl sheet to block out all light. But now, the daily sunrise is like a gift, unfolding and changing imperceptibly until it crowns the horizon. So easy to be grateful when viewing such majesty.


I ran across the street to capture this more unobstructed view than we have from our patio. It's funny, it really is hard to tell a sunrise from a sunset in a photo, isn't it?

Sky talk and riddle answer

Here's a live view from the patio this morning. I can't wait for the top of that center tree to lose its leaves. That mountain in the distance is about 20 miles away. So grateful I am for this big chunk of sky I have to look at now. Oh and incidentally, I would define sky as "everything that appears above you while you are outside looking up on this planet". If you are up in the space shuttle, do you consider yourself to be "in the sky"? I don't know. But the stars are certainly in the sky.

Spouse and I and Mother in law spent all day yesterday fixing up our old place, cleaning and painting. We've got to go back and finish it today. Two prospective renters are coming to look at it at 3, so it would behoove us to get going asap. (I just wanted to use the word behoove, otherwise I would have dumped that sentence)

Okay, the answer to yesterday's riddle. The one question that you could ask either guard in order to accurately know which door leads to heaven is:

"If I were to ask you which door leads to heaven, what would your answer be?"

Truthtelling guard always tells the truth, and lie telling guard couldn't answer with the lie he would say if asked that question, so he "lies" which makes him reveal the true door to heaven.

Enjoy this wonderful autumn day!

A riddle

Imagine you've died and awoken in a room with 2 doors. One of the doors leads to heaven and the other leads to hell. Neither door is marked. A guard stands next to each door. One of the guards always tells the truth and the other always lies. You are permitted to ask only one question to one of the guards before choosing a door to go through. What is the one question you could ask to be sure that you will know which door leads to heaven?

Snippets

* People are like mushrooms. All mushrooms share similarities though still exhibit wide variations. You've got black, brown, white. A few are magical, many delicious and still others deadly. Sometimes they grow on you.

* Quebecers eat more Kraft mac and cheese per capita than any other society in the world.

* Cancer is just your own cells turning against you.

* I just learned of a small religious cult here in Montreal whose leader claims to be the reincarnation of Jesus Christ. I wouldn't mind chatting with this fellow.

* We all long for a quick and painless death when the time comes yet most of us wouldn't have the cajones to ensure it. (a gun to the head for example)

* I was accosted by a religious fanatic the other day. For ten minutes she worked on me to accept Jesus Christ as my saviour. I marveled at her zeal.

* Jobs you've got to wonder why people are drawn to: proctologist, embalmer, roofer.

* There is no knowing, there is only believing.

* I don't understand faking an orgasm. It's like faking eating or faking shitting, I mean what's the point?

* In Japan, the terminal patient does not know his/her condition. The family is told and it is up to them to reveal or conceal the news. Tradition dictates that it be concealed most of the time.

* Define "sky". Not as easy as it seems, is it?

Wednesday sightings

Today I saw a woman struggling to walk. The excess lard from her thighs appeared to have descended and collected around her ankles. The tightness of her black dress testified to what must have been a morning workout for her. As she boarded the bus, her face, full of sigh, looked beseechingly around. I gave her my seat.

Today I saw a girl, hair in pigtails and rings hanging from her nostrils. She was reading "Remembrance of things past".

Today I saw an old woman, old as a redwood, singing a song in the metro corridor. Her voiced crackled and sputtered, nearly masking the melody completely. As she stood there swaying with her eyes closed, strangers placed coins in an old hat placed before her on the ground.

Today I saw a woman chastising her child in the stroller. As the child's voice rose, so did the brusqueness with which she pushed on the stroller. In the end, fear took over the child, and he fell silent.

Today I saw a woman in her car putting on makeup with one hand and holding a cellphone to her ear with the other. She was steering the car with her knee.

Today I saw a woman, statuesque in the park. Standing on one foot and with her hands clasped together, she stood immobile for two minutes. I know, because I timed it.

Today I saw a woman crying. It felt like the whole world was crying. I don't even know why she was sobbing so, yet I was still moved to tears. Pain is universal.

More whining

Pornstar is awol now. This would be great news if all his stuff weren't clogging up OUR garage and OUR basement. We call, he doesn't answer, we leave messages, he doesn't return calls.

So we changed all the locks.

Oh and three of the four tenants all came up with excuses why they didn't have the rent yet. Here are the three excuses:

1. My roommate didn't get his unemployment check.
( We replied that your roommate isn't on the lease, so it's not our problem, it's yours.)
2. I twisted my ankle.
( Do you need a ride to the bank?)
3. I made a mistake and misbudgeted.
( Okay, it happens, but it's not a great way to start with the new owners.)

Looks like we have to brush up on our "tough love" skills.

I'm having a heck of a time getting caught up on blogs and finding time to write anything of note. Bear with me during this transition period.

Moving recap

It rained all day the day we moved. Despite several calls to and assurances from pornstar about move day, when our truck arrived at the new place, all of pornstar's furniture was still there. They were moving the old fashioned way - with borrowed vehicles and labor from friends. They all treated us quite frostily and complained bitterly about "having to move". When we tried to commiserate with them, (you know, since we were going through the exact same hell that is moving) they insisted that their misery was more severe. It was a tension filled afternoon, needless to say.

At the end of the day, all of his things were out of our apartment, but the garage and patio were still full of his stuff. Promises were made to come back on Monday to finish. I can now say that that promise was broken.

But I didn't forget about you guys. I made a video at the end of moving day. We were pretty punchy.

Snippets

* This sculpture figures prominently at one of my worksites. I'm always fixated on the three breasts.

* Sometimes life is like a University of Pain. It's the extracurricular activities that bring joy and love.

* The thing about "coming out" is this: Life is ultimately easier to live when you have nothing to hide. This is the most compelling argument I can offer.

* Jobs that reward dishonesty: salesperson, politician, lobbyist, evangelist.

* You learn by doing, not by reading. Until you do it, it's only a supposition.

* I've noticed that trees generally lose their leaves from the top down. In spring, the leaves appear first at the bottom and then rise to the top. So. The lower leaves "live" longer.

* A fly lives but 10 days. It seems cruel to squash them.

* I have seen a sprite.

* Proverbially, you mustn't:
- count chickens prior to their hatching
- judge a book by its cover
- disturb a sleeping dog
- fix something that isn't broken
- put all of one's eggs into a single basket
- put the cart before the horse
- call a kettle black (particularly if you are a pot)

* Every great advance in science has been subsequently disproven. Makes you wonder about the term "scientific fact."

* I have bungee jumped, ridden in a glider and performed the duties of a jury foreman.

* The same guy who designed Central Park in New York also designed Montreal's Mount Royal Park. Frederick Law Olmsted.

* I really can't fathom the importance of whether or not someone "believes" in God. Yet some people believe this distinction is worth killing for. (Or at the very least, casting aspersion.)

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Just a note to let you know that due to the move, I'll be taking a short break from the puter. I wish everyone a wonderful weekend and I'll see you sometime next week. (I'm shooting for Tuesday.) Ciao!

Mini rant

So last week when we came to realize that we had to buy a new fridge for the tenants, we went on line and ordered from Home Depot. The next day, we were told the item was "backordered". So I went on foot to shop and found one that could be delivered Wednesday at the earliest. (yesterday) The one I wanted (and which was the same price) had two separate doors for the freezer and fridge components. It, however, was on backorder. The one I then selected had the freezer inside the fridge, which we all know is less desirable. Availability was the deciding factor, and since it was, I bought it.

They delivered the wrong fridge. The one they delivered had no freezer inside. The tenants called. We called the store. They gave us the warehouse number. We called and will now have to wait until Friday or Saturday for them to rectify the error.

In addition, the tenants complained that the fridge would have a freezer inside instead of separate. We have been breaking our backs bending over to lick these kids asses, and this is what you get.

Sometimes, you just can't win.

The state of things

The house is a shambles. Boxes everywhere. The fridge is bare and the pantry contents are boxed up. It's times like this I loathe being a consumer. There are still unopened boxes in the basement from when we moved here two years ago and now we're going to lug them over to the new place. Anybody want a complete set of encyclopedia? They seem obsolete now that we've got Wikipedia online.

I can't believe we procrastinated for two years on fixing up this place. We've put in about 20 hours each and are almost done. Especially considering that I had two months off this summer (and last).
Every time I move, I say to myself, "This is the last time."

It never is though.

Procrastinator

I have six minutes to complete this post. I've prepared nothing, nor have I anything in mind on which to pontificate. I'd love to regale you with more tales of pornstar, or rant about the landslide of things that need to be done before we move Sunday, but (now there's four minutes) details are really not that important.

It's like school. I don't remember most of the details I learned in school. Mostly, I learned how to manage my time, how to do someone else's bidding, how to change my behaviour in different environments. (say Gymclass vs Biology)

I'm rallying those skills I learned way back when in order to accomplish everything . And I still have no need for the details. Dates of wars, the impact of the industrial revolution, mitochondria and the mechanics of recession do not aid so much in real life.

Now why wasn't there a class on avoiding procrastination? (I'm done now, with 4 seconds to spare.)

I get hate mail

Every once in a while, I find some hystrionic tirade in my inbox. It's always an anonymous commenter of course, and sometimes I have trouble finding which post the comment was left on. This was the case this morning. What I find over and over again is that the most vicious of comments are always replete with spelling errors and exude closed-mindedness.

Here are some gems:

* If your a left wing communist loser that loves to rape children up there ass because your gay, than Montreal is the place for you.

Wow, four errors in one sentence. And the sentiment just warms the cockles (I said cock, tee hee) of my heart.

* I could go on and on, but I must say Quebec women are sluts, putes, all have AIDS, ugly, disgusting, they look like men with lipstick, and we are a disgusting melting pot

Ten bucks says you're single and bitter.

* And oh by the way, the Anglos used to control Montreal when it was prosperous; lets just say downtown Montreal is equivalent to bombed out Iraq

All I see downtown is new construction and working people. I would use the word "vibrant" to describe it. Your comparison is like saying broccoli is equivalent to ice cream.

If you want to read the full text of the comment, it's on the post from Sep 6th.

While I'm horrified at the sentiment, I'm also grateful for this morning's blog fodder that it supplied.

In contention for boringest post

What to write about. Hmmm. The weather? Always good for a laugh, that. (It's muggy and rainy.) There is a report of Bin Laden's death being played down by world leaders. Seems he got sick with the typhoid. If true, that would mean he had ingested feces-tainted water containing Salmonella bacteria. It's probably untrue though, we'll see.

The renovation continues, as does the unstaunchable flow of dollars. It seems my old nemesis Visa and I have reconciled, and I keep trying to reassure myself by saying, "At least you're getting airmiles." Today, we've got a few places to sand and reputty, and a few more baseboards and moldings to put up, and then we're all done but the painting.

We scheduled the moving truck for next Sunday. We don't even have any boxes yet. And there's this piddly little matter of working all week. Looks like we'll have to pull all this together next Saturday. (This is a paragraph I would normally delete, but since we're competing for boringest post....)

Woke up at 3am this morning and then stayed in bed, flipping this way and that, spouse having fallen asleep on the couch. He is actually getting up right now as I type, the earliest I think I've ever seen him rise. Good. Time to get to work. Good Sunday everyone.

I'm not always PC

Once I said to a coworker, "Why are you acting like such a selfish bitch?" Okay, maybe I shouted it within earshot of her customers. She burst into tears and ran off the floor. (This is restaurant speak for leaving the public serving area.) Management had to service her tables for a while before she was able to regain her composure.

It was New Year's Eve.

At the end of my shift, the owner wished to speak to me. I was given a warning and told that calling another employee a bitch was grounds for termination. I explained what had led up to my outburst (owner then realized how tame the word bitch was in this situation) and pointed out that I hadn't called her a bitch, I had only questioned why her behaviour resembled that of a bitch.

The owner smiled and even stifled a laugh and tore up the written warning.

Now, I can't even remember the bitch's name.