Message in a...

My building is an odd-shaped, ancient two-story storefront building with three upstairs apartments and one porch connecting us all. I've lived here for 5 years, and the next-door neighbors have been there for almost 2 now, and the woman on the end, N, has been there, well, since the dawn of time. Until recently, her two grown sons lived with her. N's a schoolteacher in the Chicago public schools, and she does acupuncture and massage on the side. She's - well, sorta crazy. Somehow, although three different sets of occupants in the apartment between mine and N's have had terrible relations with her, she and I seem to get along OK.

N is nosy, and odd, and a little know-it-all, especially when it comes to my care of Lois. When she sees me letting Lois out in the back yard to pee (early morning), she will say things like "When I had my Shanti (a beagle, natch), I would take her for walks," and shit like that. I shrug it off.

When I moved in I noticed that N would put old food out in the back yard, attracting raccoons, possums, mice, and - when I got her - Lois. We're talking half-eaten pizzas, whole bags of stale cheese popcorn dumped from the porch, cereal, bread loaves with mold, etc. It drove me nuts, and I complained to the landlords, to her, and even phoned her once about it when Lois ate something bigger than her head that I never identified. A few years ago, at the height of my mouse problem, I'd had it - and I bought her a bird feeder and bird food, hoping this would quench her helping-the-animals thirst. That didn't really help.

Recently, she's started throwing the food onto the roof next door to our porch instead of into the yard. And the middle neighbors, who've also fought the hard mouse infestation fight, have really gotten pissed about N's food-strewing habits. They started retaliating; leaving notes, and picking up the food and putting it back, in bags, at her door. Today, though, when I was outside, I saw their best move yet:


Happy spring!

Woe.

This is a picture of my car on the day it was totalled on Lake Shore Drive, while I was driving the WX home at 7am in sub-zero weather. The accident was at the end of January, and this is pretty much what it looks like now, too, since the insurance cos are in dispute and I haven't sued anyone yet.

So, yesterday, my car was towed and impounded because someone called it in as an abandoned vehicle (some evil/uptight neighbor, I'd guess) and I have scheduled a hearing tomorrow. It's been such a drama, from the City of Chicago phone systems to going out to the pound tonight (rented an iGo car for 3 hours/$30ish) only to find out that my car is not in the 24-hour pound, but in the one that closes at 5pm. Both, of course, have the same phone number and address. I was just supposed to know this apparently.

The hearing's at 1:30 tomorrow, downtown Chicago, in the middle of a busy-ass workday in the busiest week. I have to prove it was not abandoned (that's where I always park it and I had even just moved it last week for street cleaning!) so that I won't have to pay for the tow or impoundment. Then, I might just clean all my stuff out of it and leave it there/let them auction it. I just need to get to my registration, which is in the car, I think. That's a major problem. And, I don't want anything else on my record.

It sucks cuz as soon as I had no tickets on my record, my registration was paid through December, and my city sticker was attached and valid, some beeyatch hits me and now I have to go through all of this money, time and misery. Someday, sometime, will I ever have good luck in any part of life? I gotta hope so!!

Woody's was smokin', or Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight

Fire! Well...sorta. Last night there was a fire scare directly across the street from my apartment. I'd just come home from Home Depot (more potting soil) and Petsmart (dog food and a new kong), and parked directly in front of Smokin' Woody's, a barbecue joint whose front door is directly in line with my bed window (Oh yeah, the smells on summer window-fan days are as incredible as you imagine.) It turns out Woody's was the burning building, and suddenly my street was swarming with firemen - 3 fire engines, 2 of those paddy-wagon trucks, and a big SUV supervisor truck, plus an ambulance and a couple of cop cars surrounded, my street and my car. Of course, Lois and I went down and sat on the stoop in front of our door and watched all the action. It was better than a DVD and I'm getting tired of those anyway.

My building neighbors, Steve and Alia, also came down, and my other building neighbor, Nadrine the crazy lady, was up in her window trying to talk to us, too. It's funny how many people come out for a fire. Guys on bikes and blades stopped too, asking what was up. A cute girly couple came up and petted Lois for a while. Lots of people just stood around (including many of the official men in uniform). It was nice. And a great night for a fire, weatherwise. I don't think there was any real damage.

Except that the firemen broke through the glass door of the restuarant, and maybe the funniest part of the night was how long it took them to clean up the glass - about double the whole rest of their manouevers, including the big ladder and everything.

Then, after all the engines took off, and when I was sitting in the living room, all of a sudden I heard drilling and a guy with the THICKEST CHICAGO ACCENT I have ever heard, talking about 'dis' and 'dat' and 'C'mahn, gice, let's get it over dehr!' Apparently it was the guys that came to fix the door.

Woody was probably very sad to see the whole thing this morning. But you know what? He's not the nicest man, so I actually think it might be karma. He's the kind of guy who harasses all females and then always has the "Waitress Wanted" sign in the window.