Written on 10:49 PM by Kristen
Never fear comrades.. it is once again safe for persons of normal temperature to enter my apartment. My apartment handy-dudes came by again to fix the air conditioning after last months book club disaster, and it's been coolin' ever since. I have decided to move, but I haven't told the apartment complex yet. Instead I asked the manager of the complex for some kind of compensation on my electric bills, since the A/C was running non stop. I ended up getting a 150 dollar credit towards August rent. Now I'll tell them I'm moving... mwaaa haaa haaaaa
Which leads to my next story of the time I supposed my car alignment was off, and Firestone said it was not, just that I probably had a wanky tire. So I went to discount tire and told them they sold me a bad tire, and I wanted a new one. When they said they couldnt tell which if any tires were internally faulty, I said, that's OK because I want you to replace the tire on the other side too, since it wore out the tread unevenly. Then they proceeded to spend an hour rotating all the tires around multiple times trying to figure out which one it was so they'd only have to give me one tire.
They sent some poor 16 year old fool to tell me the bad news, that they would only replace one, but really weren't sure which one it was. The young lad had no chance, I argued so well and said I didnt have time to waste to have them keep trying to figure it out, so they better just replace all 3 tires that were worn.
Yes ladies and gentlemen, I left that day with 3 brand new tires.
Which leads me to my blog title and ultimate question..... Why can't I ever get a warning from a police officer. I've been pulled over like 7 times probably and always gotten a ticket. Even when I was just barely 16 and my mom was in the car with me. One time I was actually crying real tears b/c i thought my parents were gonna ground me. No Dice. I have no luck when it comes to that. Any tips????
Posted in
apartments,
persuasion,
police
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Written on 9:49 PM by Kristen
Sorry for the scary bad writing, grammar, literary devices etc... but I really don't care.
Once again I find myself alone in my apartment, whilst some tragedy unfolds before my helpless non-handyman hands. The first plot point to this tragedy was the night I moved into my beauty-ful apartment, and the pipe behind the toilet starts leaking all over the floor. Fate provided a foil lasagna pan which held the water until morning light. Then I had to stand around all Saturday morning in my skeezy unshowered moving PJ's while a stranger fixed my toilet. Awkward, Princess.!
Tragedy plot point number two was when the power kept randomly going off in my apartment, like a crafty lightning bug messing with my pizz-ower. No one believed tragic apartment Rapunzel, they accused her of optical delusions. The electricity proceeded to disappear for over 24 hours, a week later, throughout the entire kingdom of "Building 10". Chaos, Calamity, and Cursing could be heard over all the land. Now who's laughing ye snooty apartment office wenches.??
Tonight I sit and await handy dude number 2 to avenge the evil blinky alarm monster.
(handy dude #2 is much younger than handy dude #1 coincidentally)
Prologue:
I have no alarm system set up.
I have no alarm code.
I have no intruders.
My alarm system starts beeping at random intervals for no particular reason during American Idol (well played alarm) ... Then all bazookie breaks loose and it's a wailing siren. Thanks neighbors for coming to check on me (not). Turning the breakers off has absolutely no effect. I call the handy dude helpline which calls me back and instructs me to disconnect the battery in my closet.
FYI to all intruders, go to my closet first to turn off the alarm. Neato. So this battery looks like a small car battery with two connectors on top. Both of them are stuck I discover through my rubber gloves. Hey, I don't wanna die alone and electro-fried lying face down in my Croc's collection.
So handy dude shows up and realizes there's a second part that has to be disconnected. Handy dude doesnt know batteries but he's kinda cute. Handy dude's gonna come replace something on Friday when the part comes in.
I think its a date!
Posted in
apartments
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Written on 1:40 AM by Kristen
Ok, this may not be the best put together blog on the planet, but it's 2 in the morning on a tuesday night. I have two issues keeping me awake, one is not funny, the other is hil-aaaaaa-rious. I've had a strange unidentified pain in my neck for going on 3 days now. It seems to wake me up around now when the pain medicine wears off and I'm in totally agony.
..."but Kristen?" you ask. "If you're in total agony, how are you writing this fantastic blog?"
Well Friends, we seem to have what is called in the sticks, or Dallas Swat, take your pick, a domestic disturbance! This has awoken me from my slumber a tad earlier than planned, my children of the night.... mwaaaaa haaaaaa haaaaaaaa!!!!
As you may well know, I just moved to a new apartment in the far north of a pretty snobby city. I assumed and expected that this would alleviate the normal pitfalls of apartment life ie... scary people, redneck neighbors and their dogs/kids, yuppie shenanigans.
I came home tonight to find a pretty nice truck with a trailer attached to the back blocking my normal parking area. I parked adjacent to the building on the other side and continued my way upstairs, chinese take out in hand. Up the stairs I go to find a guy approximately my age, two kids that clearly he is NOT the father, and some of their stuff in the hallway. This was about 8pm. When I was ready go to go bed around 10:30 I hear what I thought was a TV program through my window. I listened for a minute, clearly this must be HBO to have such foul language. No wait, maybe MTV based on the education level of the speaker and the slight valley girl speech impediment. Ohhhh sweet mother, it's someone outside!
So I turn my lights off so I can more unobtrusively spy on my neighbors. Where did this trashy siren wench come from? Its as if she was spawned from the trailer under a cold dark night in October to spew forth Righteous Truths. That's right girl, guys are morons. Yell it louder!
Oh wait. She and her husband are both morons. Let down.
They have chosen to yell and scream at each other sitting in the flat of the open trailer, instead of the nice cozy truck interior with the doors shut like normal people. "Not in front of the kids, Honey"
"but Kristen?" you ask, "Wasn't that at 10:30? Why are you up at 2" Well my pretties, have you ever heard a blood curdling scream? really though,,,... and with a raspy voice out in the cold? To the effect of "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"
This chick is screeeeaming at the guy now. I think he was trying to make her get in the car. She's like "how can you do this to me?" My guess is he broke up with her and was trying to get her to an institution, but I'm no expert. I believe there was a struggle and then all fell silent.
I don't even want to know. I normally woulda told them to shut up myself, but seeing as how they are a few crayons short of a picasso, I opted not to piss off the new redneck neighbors.
Back to bed. Waiting for the Aleve to kick in again...
Posted in
apartments,
illness,
rednecks,
stupid people
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