How Are Your Neighbors?

My next-door neighbors finally cut their lawn today. I nearly fell over at the surprise. These three college/grad-school age guys live there. They aren't too old or feeble to cut their lawn. We have a plethora of old ladies who live in the neighborhood (I'm talking mid-70s, plus) who manage their lawns on their own, but these three able-bodied dudes haven't managed to cut their grass since April. While I may only get the lawn done every two weeks, they are horrible--but they still aren't as bad as the guy on the other side. I've still not forgiven him for leaving his cat out the night Katrina hit (I took her in--the idea of a cat being flung around in 75+mph winds didn't sit right with me) and he's always revving his motorcycle at midnight in the middle of the week. He hasn't cut his backyard since sometime last summer. The grass/weed combo he's got going on has actually grown over his kid's swingset (she's now about 14 and doesn't use it) and the log-sized branch that fell from a tree that sticks up out of the ground has so many vines growing on it, it actually looks like a kinda-cool topiary. He really needs to live somewhere where there is no lawn. So far I've taken a "how wild will it get" approach--kind of like a science project. But if I see one creepy-crawly come out of his yard into mine, I'm calling the city's nuisance line. :lol

I don't know I think apartments are kind of haven for wackos. I think when you live on top of people you just get to see peoples problems more then you would be with a neighbor in a burb.

I really have countless stories. Here are some of the other things that have happened.

[mod edit]

Even though my apartment is messy, acutally it was quite clean now. I guess hers was worse. There was cockroaches leaking through the sealing. The problem with Cockraoches is when you see one there is bound to me a lot more.

I use to live in apartment complex across the street when I first moved in. There was another coke addict in that building. [multiple edits] She once invited me for dinner, I said no thanks! After awhile, she was kind of scaring me. I had another neighbor who was "rough around the edges" and she had a nice talk with her. I never had any more problems with her. She later got evicted.

I haven't seen this woman in awhile, but she was a skitsophrenic(I don't think she lives in the building anymore) and she once started SCREAMING at me out of no where, how Bush is ruining the world(She had a point, but she was mental)

I talk to the town crier, so I know a lot of gossip. I wonder what she says about me?? They probably think I am nuts, I leave gay magazines outside my door. I talked about this in another thread. Well, people keep taking the magazines(I am on the 4th magazine now), so I finally left a note on the magazine so no one would take it it said: Justin, thanks for letting me borrow the magazine. Todd. I woke up the next morning and I went outside the dorr and I thought who the hell is Todd??(lol)

There is a lady who suffers from depression in the building I asked how she was to the town crier. She told me she recently got fired from her job and told people at the place that she worked, she planned on "killing them" I think I will stay away from her.

There was a lady in the other building I lived on who smoked pot on the hour. Nice, but a little wacked out. [mod edit]

Hmm. Down the hall. There is a guy who ran for Mayor of the burb I live in. He is also very creepy. I made sure to vote, just to make sure he wouldn't be elected.

Another guy in my building onced had an Elvis costumer on. Maybe it was a side job, but still weird.

I use to give rides to people in my building, no more. I have had people knock at my door asking for rides to work. I mean if I am out and about, its different. But coming to my door is just downright rude.

The Wackos outway the normal people. There are some nice people but I dismiss them, its fun to concentrate on the Wackos.

My old roommate was a wacko too. That was about 5 years ago. He was actually a nice kid, but was strange. He had Garfield coloring books.

[multiple edits]

Everyone in my building thinks I am nice guy. I am. But a little nutty myself.

OMG Snark, between Aunt Ruth and your neighbors you could write a hysterical book.

Now don't forget that Challah and don't get the raisens or the double loaf now either. Just make sure its FRESH!!!! :lol That post had me just :rofl

We once had a stabbing at my building. Only 4 apartments and we lived upstairs. I came down for work and found massive and I do mean massive amounts of blood on the porch and down the door of one of the downstairs apartments. I called the police, they came, they followed the trail of blood for a while, they talked to the person in the apt. (she had a night job. One that involved clients and money). We had had a lot of problems with her and had complained to the landlord. Us and the other tenets were quiet people with regular jobs and they had complained too. I got in my car that day, drove to the landlord's office and had him come get in my car and drove him to the building to see the lake of blood on the porch. She was asked to leave right after that.
That is probably the worst apt. neighbor experience I ever had.
And they never did find out what happened and who it was that got stabbed. Just assuming stabbed as that's what the cops theorized. I've never seen so much blood in my life.

And to think I would just get upset if my neighbor played the music too long and too loud!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by snarkattack;2565192;

Well, people keep taking the magazines(I am on the 4th magazine now), so I finally left a note on the magazine so no one would take it it said: Justin, thanks for letting me borrow the magazine. Todd. I woke up the next morning and I went outside the dorr and I thought who the hell is Todd??(lol)

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:rofl :rofl
snark, this cracked me up! Thanks for all the giggles today!

Quote:

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Originally Posted by famita;2565349;

And to think I would just get upset if my neighbor played the music too long and too loud!

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We had that p roblem with her too, but the scene from Nightmare on Elm Street was what finally put us all over the edge.

Snarkattack, that's one wild building you live in. Sounds more entertaining than 80% of what's on TV.

I am a "live and let live" and "to each his own" kind of person. The apartment I live in has been my home for twenty years. I have seen wackos come and go, and quite often was sorry to see them go. I don't mind loud music, indeed have cranked it up many a night myself. But my neighbor downstairs doesn't play loud music. He plays a drum machine, and mostly the same repetitive beat for hours at a time. It's every evening, every night, every morning, and on the weekends, it's 24/7. The loudness of the beat is beyond ridiculous. Imagine being in a room, subjected to the tick of a metronome for hours on end. That has been used as a method of torture, and to break people down, because it works. Living above this guy is like living above an amplified metronome. After nearly four years of this near constant, monotonous "boom...boomboom...boom...boom boom" (and the slight variations thereof), I am seriously losing my grip. I can't enjoy TV anymore, except for when he's gone, or unless I turn the volume all the way up. That is not a fun way to watch TV, so I usually tape everything and wait for the first opportunity. Renting movies is a thing of the past. Having people over for dinner on a Saturday night...unthinkable. We would have to leave, and just eat out. He runs my life, I'm on his schedule. He's my alarm clock. Tired as I may be, I can't go to bed at night until he decides it's time for bed. All of this I am willing to accept...that's the way it goes sometimes, you get a pain in the ass for a neighbor. Get in line and join the club.

But what I'm having trouble dealing with, aside from the fact that he has invaded and impacted my grieving process, is that he hinders a creative endeavor that I enjoy doing. I tried to talk to him, telling him that I'm all for his right to pursue his creative endeavor, but that I had the same right as well, and his endeavor was impeding mine. He told me, flat out, "I don't care about your endeavor". I told him I wasn't asking him to care about the endeavor itself, but to have respect enough for my right to pursue it. He just repeated, "I don't care". No matter how loud I could ever type, I will not impede his progress, his creativity. Yet he has forced me into working with ear-plugged ears, topped with headphones, which are turned all the way up and blasting a classical music station, topped with wash clothes between my ears and the headphones, so I won't blow out my eardrums. Still, the beat comes through the floor, so what I may succeed in drowning out, I will still feel. Boom...boomboom...boom...boomb oom. I wish my desk and I could levitate. This endeavor of mine involves writing in rhyme. It's hard to find the rhythm of a verse when you have a beat placed into your brain that is not jiving with the words you're trying to put together. I don't want to rhyme to his beat, but that beat screws with my head so bad, it makes it tough to concentrate. When I have some peace and quiet, the rhyming is fun and easy, but when he sucks the fun out of it, it becomes very, very hard. It fatigues my brain, which means it's not functioning where it could be, and I'm not doing the best I could do. I think this is so unfair, and it is depressing. This endeavor is suppose to be a help to me, a positive way to divert sad thoughts, and he is robing me of my ability to take care of myself. My dear husband just surprised me with $150.00 "Extreme Isolation" headphones, so there is a ray of hope that maybe this next round of work can be called what I have the right to call it...a round of fun. But I'm braced for a maddening exercise in sheer and utter frustration, because the guy downstairs is good for it.

Damn, that felt good. I couldn't keep it in any longer, the occasional sarcastic aside in the Fun and Games threads just wasn't cutting it anymore.

[QUOTE=lopevian;2565830;]Snarkattack, that's one wild building you live in. Sounds more entertaining than 80% of what's on TV.
QUOTE]

It is crazy. But I am also good at retaining useless info

The thing is the apartment is right in between 2 middle-upper middle class area, but the burb I live in is mostly businesses, and is very congested. The school systems are very good, and the location is good, so I think that's why a lot of people pick it.

Even though I joke about these people. I generally like them. Most people have issues. I have lots. If I was going through a rough time, I could tell some of these so called "wackos" what was up. And they would be understanding. Growing up in a middle-upper middle class background. You sort of learn to be judgemental of what others have and won't they do not have. I am no longer like this. The school system I went to was 80-85% jewish. I use to think the whole world was "jewish" Quite the opposite. Most people come from money. I use to think for years that everyone "had money" In truth, a great deal of people just "live pay check to pay check" You can become very sheltered living in the community I use to, if you want to be.

Anyway, another problem we have in the building is the fire alarm goes off every other week. This is terrible of me, but I never go down anymore. Because its usually is a false alarm. The thing there has been a few small fires.

Once a lady cooking on her grill and wasn't being very careful. The other time a guy came home drunk, was smoking and forgot about it. That one could of been a lot worse. That one I slept through the next day a ton of people asked me about and I said I had no idea.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by lopevian;2565830;

Snarkattack, that's one wild building you live in. Sounds more entertaining than 80% of what's on TV.

I am a "live and let live" and "to each his own" kind of person. The apartment I live in has been my home for twenty years. I have seen wackos come and go, and quite often was sorry to see them go. I don't mind loud music, indeed have cranked it up many a night myself. But my neighbor downstairs doesn't play loud music. He plays a drum machine, and mostly the same repetitive beat for hours at a time. It's every evening, every night, every morning, and on the weekends, it's 24/7. The loudness of the beat is beyond ridiculous. Imagine being in a room, subjected to the tick of a metronome for hours on end. That has been used as a method of torture, and to break people down, because it works. Living above this guy is like living above an amplified metronome. After nearly four years of this near constant, monotonous "boom...boomboom...boom...boom boom" (and the slight variations thereof), I am seriously losing my grip. I can't enjoy TV anymore, except for when he's gone, or unless I turn the volume all the way up. That is not a fun way to watch TV, so I usually tape everything and wait for the first opportunity. Renting movies is a thing of the past. Having people over for dinner on a Saturday night...unthinkable. We would have to leave, and just eat out. He runs my life, I'm on his schedule. He's my alarm clock. Tired as I may be, I can't go to bed at night until he decides it's time for bed. All of this I am willing to accept...that's the way it goes sometimes, you get a pain in the ass for a neighbor. Get in line and join the club.

But what I'm having trouble dealing with, aside from the fact that he has invaded and impacted my grieving process, is that he hinders a creative endeavor that I enjoy doing. I tried to talk to him, telling him that I'm all for his right to pursue his creative endeavor, but that I had the same right as well, and his endeavor was impeding mine. He told me, flat out, "I don't care about your endeavor". I told him I wasn't asking him to care about the endeavor itself, but to have respect enough for my right to pursue it. He just repeated, "I don't care". No matter how loud I could ever type, I will not impede his progress, his creativity. Yet he has forced me into working with ear-plugged ears, topped with headphones, which are turned all the way up and blasting a classical music station, topped with wash clothes between my ears and the headphones, so I won't blow out my eardrums. Still, the beat comes through the floor, so what I may succeed in drowning out, I will still feel. Boom...boomboom...boom...boomb oom. I wish my desk and I could levitate. This endeavor of mine involves writing in rhyme. It's hard to find the rhythm of a verse when you have a beat placed into your brain that is not jiving with the words you're trying to put together. I don't want to rhyme to his beat, but that beat screws with my head so bad, it makes it tough to concentrate. When I have some peace and quiet, the rhyming is fun and easy, but when he sucks the fun out of it, it becomes very, very hard. It fatigues my brain, which means it's not functioning where it could be, and I'm not doing the best I could do. I think this is so unfair, and it is depressing. This endeavor is suppose to be a help to me, a positive way to divert sad thoughts, and he is robing me of my ability to take care of myself. My dear husband just surprised me with $150.00 "Extreme Isolation" headphones, so there is a ray of hope that maybe this next round of work can be called what I have the right to call it...a round of fun. But I'm braced for a maddening exercise in sheer and utter frustration, because the guy downstairs is good for it.

Damn, that felt good. I couldn't keep it in any longer, the occasional sarcastic aside in the Fun and Games threads just wasn't cutting it anymore.

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Lopevian, it seems that you are within your rights to complain to the landlord. Just because he can have loud "music" doesn't mean he should ruin your life with it constantly. If he's bothering you, what about the people on either side of him.
Seriously, I would start lodging complaints to the landlord. If wants to be free to pursue his drumming, then maybe an apartment is not the right place for him to live.

I would have been lodging complaints the first month, after I document that the guy said I don't care. Here in Milwaukee in order to pursue anything, you need to keep a log of events, first talk to the responsible party, then if no results, the owner, then if no results you can call the police, which I believe after 2 or 3 calls they issue a ticket to the building owner.