It seems I post a lot about how I'm busy. While it may be true, it's not very entertaining.
When classes ended in May, we went to Minnesota. When with my in-laws, I play the role of spectator. They'll happily engage their sister in various whatevers and disappear with my children. I may perhaps receive a cursory glance. Most (not all, mind you) of the time I feel like Bruce Willis in The Sixth Sense. I think I'm interacting with people, but really I'm just haunting the place.
Mind you, this is not a bad thing. It does, however, take a day or so to get used to.
Upon returning home it was decided that we needed to find a new home in Buffalo. We moved in 3 years ago with no kids, and now we have 2 (and all the furniture that requires). We had one month to find and secure a place, pack everything, and move it. Oh, and I was stuck taking a required course over the summer. I've had more pleasant trips to the dentist. The only good thing about the entire ordeal was the end of it. It's a higher quality home in a better neighborhood.
Yea, summer courses. When 3 of the classes I want in the fall require a class I couldn't take in the spring, summer courses are the only option. On the one hand, campus is almost empty. I like that. On the other hand, I don't have much of a vacation.
About ten years ago, I had so many strange and vivid dreams. I still remember most of them to this day. These days, I can't remember my dreams at all. I don't like waking up like that.
Showing posts with label apartment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label apartment. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Sunday, September 6, 2009
fire water burn
School started last Monday. Remember the schedule I posted? At some point, I'm gonna completely freak out and start to kill people.
Female company started her new job. Her sister arrived, my office is moved out into the front room... and I still have no ceiling. Looks like 'ol "ownerofthehousethatneedstorepairtheplace" is gonna have to work around it.
Speaking of the repairs: it's all been outdoor so far. Working on the roof and side wall. A large pile of debris formed in front of the house. It was mostly collected before the weekend started, but alas, it wouldn't all fit in the truck.
"Oh, I can get that Tuesday morning when we get started again" thinks Mr Landlord.
It used to be a reasonably small pile of wood and assorted crap. I used to be almost asleep in the back of the house. It wasn't her voice that got me, it was the sound of her rushing through the house that first got my attention. It was in that subtle, yet alarming state of mind that says "something's not right" that arouses the senses while the rest of my body fights it off. Of course, her bursting through the door was the cavalry that aided my brain in overcoming my poor self and brought me to a disgruntled state of mostly-aware.
"THEWOODINFRONTOFTHEHOUSEISONFIRE"
"...what wood?"
As I stood in front of the house, I saw the pile of wood engulfed in flame. Some blamed a tossed cigarette butt, others blamed a bored opportunist. It reeked of smoke more-so than foul play. Either way, it was universally agreed that such things could be avoided by not having piles of wood laying about next to the sidewalk.
(On a side note: this is why I love rain in the summer and the winter cold. It keeps such bored opportunists indoors and away from me)
"No way am I using my fire extinguisher for this"
It was far enough away from the house to not be a worry, but still... A bucket brigade was my only option, until a much welcomed neighbor brought a garden hose. Someone called the fire department (not I, nor did I request it). A fire truck arrived in time to watch a pajama clad barefoot night auditor hosing off a pile of ash and smoke. In a moment of levity odd for such a moment, I turned to my sister in law and with a big grin, said:
"Welcome to Buffalo!"
Female company started her new job. Her sister arrived, my office is moved out into the front room... and I still have no ceiling. Looks like 'ol "ownerofthehousethatneedstorepairtheplace" is gonna have to work around it.
Speaking of the repairs: it's all been outdoor so far. Working on the roof and side wall. A large pile of debris formed in front of the house. It was mostly collected before the weekend started, but alas, it wouldn't all fit in the truck.
"Oh, I can get that Tuesday morning when we get started again" thinks Mr Landlord.
It used to be a reasonably small pile of wood and assorted crap. I used to be almost asleep in the back of the house. It wasn't her voice that got me, it was the sound of her rushing through the house that first got my attention. It was in that subtle, yet alarming state of mind that says "something's not right" that arouses the senses while the rest of my body fights it off. Of course, her bursting through the door was the cavalry that aided my brain in overcoming my poor self and brought me to a disgruntled state of mostly-aware.
"THEWOODINFRONTOFTHEHOUSEISONFIRE"
"...what wood?"
As I stood in front of the house, I saw the pile of wood engulfed in flame. Some blamed a tossed cigarette butt, others blamed a bored opportunist. It reeked of smoke more-so than foul play. Either way, it was universally agreed that such things could be avoided by not having piles of wood laying about next to the sidewalk.
(On a side note: this is why I love rain in the summer and the winter cold. It keeps such bored opportunists indoors and away from me)
"No way am I using my fire extinguisher for this"
It was far enough away from the house to not be a worry, but still... A bucket brigade was my only option, until a much welcomed neighbor brought a garden hose. Someone called the fire department (not I, nor did I request it). A fire truck arrived in time to watch a pajama clad barefoot night auditor hosing off a pile of ash and smoke. In a moment of levity odd for such a moment, I turned to my sister in law and with a big grin, said:
"Welcome to Buffalo!"
Friday, August 21, 2009
drip drip crash
A couple weeks ago, it rained rather heavily. A small drip appeared in my ceiling below the upstairs neighbors terrace, where their outer wall sits. An e-mail was sent to the landlord, and Mr fix-it took a look.
Found nothing.
Next rainstorm, again came the drip. He didn't come. My upstairs neighbor was experiencing a good deal of unwanted H two Oh herself.
Next rainstorm. Now the drip was FOUR FEET WIDE sending half my front room into a much wetter state than I prefer. My landlord's response to this was that he was under the impression it had been worked on, and was going to see to it.
That was last night. I went to work. Then, I came home. I got the bad news right away. That part of the ceiling was so water logged that it had collapsed.
The ceiling was on the floor. (Note: that is not where it belongs)
I decided to forgo my usual "e-mail the problem away" approach and called him. Within 2 hours, he was actually at my apartment-
Ok, I need to cut here. This is the man that took my deposit check and disappeared. I never saw him the first 11 months I lived in this house. Every other issue was delegated to someone with a beard, so this struck me as significant.
*ahem*
He was actually at my apartment with his fix-it guy, cleaning, examining, and diagnosing. I am now told that by Monday, my apartment will no longer look like said leak had occurred. The leak is "fixed" (a temporary fix, he says, so it won't leak between now and Monday when he has that section of the house overhauled).
My upstairs neighbor pretty much lost a couch. Color me lucky on that one.
gee, thanks. It's not like I have enough to worry about already.
Found nothing.
Next rainstorm, again came the drip. He didn't come. My upstairs neighbor was experiencing a good deal of unwanted H two Oh herself.
Next rainstorm. Now the drip was FOUR FEET WIDE sending half my front room into a much wetter state than I prefer. My landlord's response to this was that he was under the impression it had been worked on, and was going to see to it.
That was last night. I went to work. Then, I came home. I got the bad news right away. That part of the ceiling was so water logged that it had collapsed.
The ceiling was on the floor. (Note: that is not where it belongs)
I decided to forgo my usual "e-mail the problem away" approach and called him. Within 2 hours, he was actually at my apartment-
Ok, I need to cut here. This is the man that took my deposit check and disappeared. I never saw him the first 11 months I lived in this house. Every other issue was delegated to someone with a beard, so this struck me as significant.
*ahem*
He was actually at my apartment with his fix-it guy, cleaning, examining, and diagnosing. I am now told that by Monday, my apartment will no longer look like said leak had occurred. The leak is "fixed" (a temporary fix, he says, so it won't leak between now and Monday when he has that section of the house overhauled).
My upstairs neighbor pretty much lost a couch. Color me lucky on that one.
gee, thanks. It's not like I have enough to worry about already.
August
So, August is ending. The semester starts on the 31st. I work nights (11PM - 7AM). I learn days. (8AM - 2PM) I sleep... maybe.
Female company landed* a job in a school in Alden. Starts the 1st of September. Her work hours would keep her out of the house somewhere around when I'm also gone. That would be fine... if there wasn't one massive detail putting a kink in that schedule. Though I'm assured that her sister is more than willing to help out. Problem there is that her sister is on the other side of the Mayo clinic.
Ok, no problem. I'll just move my office into the front room of the house. It's empty anyway. Still, this all starts in less than two weeks, and I'm the obsessive type that wants to make sure everything is set up before my schedule keeps me busy 22 hours a day.
But by saying this in a public forum, I have doomed myself to the inevitable monkey wrench getting tossed at me.
*by landed, I mean they keep telling her they want her, but haven't actually solidified it yet. Yay for school bureaucracy.
Female company landed* a job in a school in Alden. Starts the 1st of September. Her work hours would keep her out of the house somewhere around when I'm also gone. That would be fine... if there wasn't one massive detail putting a kink in that schedule. Though I'm assured that her sister is more than willing to help out. Problem there is that her sister is on the other side of the Mayo clinic.
Ok, no problem. I'll just move my office into the front room of the house. It's empty anyway. Still, this all starts in less than two weeks, and I'm the obsessive type that wants to make sure everything is set up before my schedule keeps me busy 22 hours a day.
But by saying this in a public forum, I have doomed myself to the inevitable monkey wrench getting tossed at me.
*by landed, I mean they keep telling her they want her, but haven't actually solidified it yet. Yay for school bureaucracy.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
No reason to fear...
So... I get home from work this morning to find the window on the side door broken and the door slightly open.
!
I go through to the stairwell to check my kitchen door, glad it's still secure. So I go around to the front door and find my neighbors door in a similar state. Window broken, door open.
"Oh, wonderful. My new neighbor has a psychotic ex boyfriend and now she's lying in a pool of blood upstairs. I hope it doesn't seep through the floor, that would be gross"
I later find my neighbor cleaning glass.
"Let's play a game called, what the heck happened last night?"
The lock on her front door was always very difficult to work. I tried it myself and it's a real pain to turn. It finally broke on her, leaving her stranded outside at 4:30 in the morning. So she tried the side door, and whomped on it, breaking the glass. She didn't have her key to the inner kitchen door, so she was just as stuck. Knowing her roomie wasn't coming back until a day or so later, she just gave up and wailed on the glass on her front door and proved how insecure her apartment really is.
She's outside fixing the damage as I type.
I go through to the stairwell to check my kitchen door, glad it's still secure. So I go around to the front door and find my neighbors door in a similar state. Window broken, door open.
"Oh, wonderful. My new neighbor has a psychotic ex boyfriend and now she's lying in a pool of blood upstairs. I hope it doesn't seep through the floor, that would be gross"
I later find my neighbor cleaning glass.
"Let's play a game called, what the heck happened last night?"
The lock on her front door was always very difficult to work. I tried it myself and it's a real pain to turn. It finally broke on her, leaving her stranded outside at 4:30 in the morning. So she tried the side door, and whomped on it, breaking the glass. She didn't have her key to the inner kitchen door, so she was just as stuck. Knowing her roomie wasn't coming back until a day or so later, she just gave up and wailed on the glass on her front door and proved how insecure her apartment really is.
She's outside fixing the damage as I type.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Indoor suburban exploring
So... I haven't had anything to do all week. I got back into Buffalo last Sunday, and there was nothing. Sure, UB threw a party, but that was one day. Out of seven. It's been very... very... quiet.
My apartment is the bottom floor of a house. The upper apartment is vacant right now. I'm not sure anyone is moving in, because classes start Monday, and nobody's there yet. Unless they plan on moving in Sunday, I don't have a neighbor. It's somewhat surreal, though. The house, I mean. The basement is a dark pit of the loathsome. A dank hole at best. The attic is just a large open space with a small room in the front of the house. Neither apartment lays claim to these spaces. Anyone can use them. Why anyone would want to I'm not sure. The attic room has a few pages of a gaming magazine taped to the walls, and it looks like an art student started something. I'll try to get some pics, the lighting is terrible up there. The walls in that room have giant gaping holes in them, the likes of which you think something is staring at you through. It has a little closet with a glass door. I'm surprised it's in one piece.
The basement looks like it's been abandoned for decades. It opens into a room that looks like it was once finished, but fell into deep disrepair. Three fluorescent fixtures dot the room, only one of them has a bulb. I don't know if they have any power, and the bulb looks like it's been there since the early 80's. You can tell a drop ceiling was installed at one point, but all that remains are the thin remnants pressed into place by the ancient light fixtures. The back wall appears to have been painted at one time, but it both faded and crumbled. The thin wall built to separate this room looks like it's taken a beating, but somehow still holding. Several old lamps, a stair stepper, a construction light, the wood frame from a futon, and a CRT monitor all appear to be new tenants.
The other section, the larger room, is a mess. Near the breaker boxes are a pair of extra wide closets. Dusty plywood doors open to reveal collapsing shelves. Anything that was once in there is unrecognizable. A laundry sink sits at the side of the room with an endless drip. I can't get it to stop, no amount of force turns the knob. From the looks of the sink basin, it's been dripping for a long time. It's forming a calcium mound in the spot. The utility sink nearby is covered in dust and cobwebs. It's clear nobody's touched it in years.
There are two desks down here. Old, dusty, and each one holding up spare windows the landlord brought in.
The furnaces and water tanks are in the middle of the room, and right by the entrance, so it blocks off the area behind it. Nothing is back there, so there's no reason to go there. Venturing back, I found what looks like an old cabinet mounted on the wall. Some writing here and there, but empty and broken. The door hangs loosely. Next to it is a window to the outside. Faded orange curtains (clearly 70's issue) block the view, and the dust is so thick on the cobwebs that I wouldn't dare try to open them.
I clearly did not take the basement into consideration when choosing this apartment.
This leads me to the machines. My landlord had some company install laundry machines down there. That's good. I have to put quarters into it. That's bad. This company maintains the machines. That's good. They draw water and power from MY UTILITIES. That's bad. I'm already paying to run the machine, why should I then pay to run the machine while someone else runs off with my quarters? My landlord never intended to tell me this. I learned the details after I discovered where the hookups were and shot him a rather... strong e-mail about it.
The last thing I want to do is have my laundry in that basement anyway. I closed the water valve and hit the switch on the breaker. If I have a neighbor, they'll likely not want to use those machines either. Especially since they won't run.
This old house goes bump in the night.
My apartment is the bottom floor of a house. The upper apartment is vacant right now. I'm not sure anyone is moving in, because classes start Monday, and nobody's there yet. Unless they plan on moving in Sunday, I don't have a neighbor. It's somewhat surreal, though. The house, I mean. The basement is a dark pit of the loathsome. A dank hole at best. The attic is just a large open space with a small room in the front of the house. Neither apartment lays claim to these spaces. Anyone can use them. Why anyone would want to I'm not sure. The attic room has a few pages of a gaming magazine taped to the walls, and it looks like an art student started something. I'll try to get some pics, the lighting is terrible up there. The walls in that room have giant gaping holes in them, the likes of which you think something is staring at you through. It has a little closet with a glass door. I'm surprised it's in one piece.
The basement looks like it's been abandoned for decades. It opens into a room that looks like it was once finished, but fell into deep disrepair. Three fluorescent fixtures dot the room, only one of them has a bulb. I don't know if they have any power, and the bulb looks like it's been there since the early 80's. You can tell a drop ceiling was installed at one point, but all that remains are the thin remnants pressed into place by the ancient light fixtures. The back wall appears to have been painted at one time, but it both faded and crumbled. The thin wall built to separate this room looks like it's taken a beating, but somehow still holding. Several old lamps, a stair stepper, a construction light, the wood frame from a futon, and a CRT monitor all appear to be new tenants.
The other section, the larger room, is a mess. Near the breaker boxes are a pair of extra wide closets. Dusty plywood doors open to reveal collapsing shelves. Anything that was once in there is unrecognizable. A laundry sink sits at the side of the room with an endless drip. I can't get it to stop, no amount of force turns the knob. From the looks of the sink basin, it's been dripping for a long time. It's forming a calcium mound in the spot. The utility sink nearby is covered in dust and cobwebs. It's clear nobody's touched it in years.
There are two desks down here. Old, dusty, and each one holding up spare windows the landlord brought in.
The furnaces and water tanks are in the middle of the room, and right by the entrance, so it blocks off the area behind it. Nothing is back there, so there's no reason to go there. Venturing back, I found what looks like an old cabinet mounted on the wall. Some writing here and there, but empty and broken. The door hangs loosely. Next to it is a window to the outside. Faded orange curtains (clearly 70's issue) block the view, and the dust is so thick on the cobwebs that I wouldn't dare try to open them.
I clearly did not take the basement into consideration when choosing this apartment.
This leads me to the machines. My landlord had some company install laundry machines down there. That's good. I have to put quarters into it. That's bad. This company maintains the machines. That's good. They draw water and power from MY UTILITIES. That's bad. I'm already paying to run the machine, why should I then pay to run the machine while someone else runs off with my quarters? My landlord never intended to tell me this. I learned the details after I discovered where the hookups were and shot him a rather... strong e-mail about it.
The last thing I want to do is have my laundry in that basement anyway. I closed the water valve and hit the switch on the breaker. If I have a neighbor, they'll likely not want to use those machines either. Especially since they won't run.
This old house goes bump in the night.
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