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In news that not even my cat cares about (because she can’t read), the new chapter of Risk is up over here. (MoC, that’s a link. It’s bold. And green).  On the first page, I saw yet another 90’s reference. It’s killing me not to fix it, but I promised myself that I wouldn’t edit it (for the 30th time). Who am I kidding? I break promises to myself every day.

I’ve become addicted to HGTV. So addicted, in fact, that I got online and started looking for condos and/or townhouses. The sudden desire to find a new place to live has as much to do with watching House Hunters and Property Virgins on HGTV as it does with the fact that a couple weeks ago, one of the guys in the apartment building next door walked around to the back of the building (on my side) and peed against the wall. I openly stared at him and if he had turned around, I would have waved at him.

My apartment doesn’t have windows at the front of the house (my bedroom closet is against that outside wall), so I can’t see anything that goes on in the street. But I hear a lot. This weekend a big festival was going on about 2 blocks from my house. Saturday evening, I was in my computer room and I heard one of the women in the apartments next door scream, “HEY! What the fuck do you think you’re doing? We have KIDS over here! Get out of here!”

And then I heard a man say, “I’m sorry, ma’am, I just really had to go.”

To which she replied, “I don’t give a shit* how bad you had to go – get the fuck out of here!”

*Thank God he didn’t give a shit, either, but only a piss.

And then it occurred to me … in order for her to see him, he had to have been peeing against the side of my house.

Saturday morning I dragged MoC on a condo hunt. I’m not ready to seriously consider buying property right now, but I want to see what’s available. As we were leaving her apartment and getting into her car, we saw her neighbor’s boyfriend on the patio smoking. Unless no one is home, there is always a pile of shoes outside the neighbor’s door. Which I guess makes for clean carpet inside, but still strikes me as a bit … controlling. So MoC and I get in the car and MoC says, “Poor guy. He can’t wear his shoes in the house. He has to smoke outside. I bet she makes him sit down to pee.”

I bet MoC is right.

Back to the condo hunt. We drove around to a couple different ‘burbs and I didn’t find anything I fell in love with – which is good, because you may or may not have noticed that I am slightly obsessive and if I had found something I loved, it would have a disastrous outcome at this point.

In another post, somewhere in my deep dark past, I explained that I live about fifteen minutes from the Missouri River. One of the colloquialisms of this area is that we call anything north of the river, “up north” – which includes two counties and three cities. We don’t call places south of the river “down south” or “out south” – there is only “up north” and then everything else. My favorite condo was “up north” and I saved it for last. MoC printed out directions – but I gave her the wrong address. Instead of NE, I told her NW and the street number. Which makes a HUGE difference. So we got lost, of course. But we’re persistent and we finally figured it out – after I asked for directions and then flipped off every single car who tailgated me because I was driving slow.  But I flipped them off below the dashboard so MoC wouldn’t get shot by an irate driver. I know, I’m really considerate.

Anyway, the pictures on the website looked better than the building itself – but I haven’t ruled it out. I LOVE the pictures of the inside, but I don’t want to go look at it for myself until I’m in a better position financially (because I am IMPULSIVE and OBSESSIVE). It’s in a good area and it would be easy to get to any part of the city from there.

In the meantime, I still have neighbors peeing everywhere and my new neighbors in the house downstairs are still very nice – and very loud (but apparently potty-trained). With 5 people, it’s hard to be quiet and I was spoiled for the three years I’ve lived here with only one person to deal with in the house.

I have the same decibel problem at school. People talk to each other, the instructors help other students (and they kind of have to talk in order to do that), and I’m easily distracted. It’s hard to study at home because of the noise from the neighbors, but MoC came up with a solution (as usual). She told me to buy earplugs. I laughed at her at first because, come on, nothing is that simple! So I bought some, just to prove her wrong.

Only, I can’t. Because she was right.

ear plugs

Sweet, sweet silence!

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