Dirty Laundry 37

"He's using a picture I took of him? How did he even get it? I don't even have any photos left from then."

Sister-:"Calm down. You're acting like a lunatic."

Me-:"Then why did you even tell me?"

Sister-:"I don't know!"

One of my sister's co-workers was going on about her new boyfriend who happens to be Wiccan. They met online, and she showed my sister his picture.  It was --- one of my ex-boyfriends. My sister called me, though not right away, she's known for about a week.

Sister-:"You haven't seen him or talked to him in like what, seven years? What's the big deal?"

Me-:"F***, I don't know."  Which is true, I have no idea what the big deal was. The more I think about it, the less it really matters.

Sister-:"Are you even trying to meet anyone?"

Me-:"Does it matter?"

Sister-:"You're turning into mom. And that's just not right. Go out, join a dating site..."

Me-:"Done those. They never worked for me..."

Sister-:"Isn't that how you met ----, -----, -----?"

Me-:"Exactly. None of them worked, they were all cheating slime balls. Not going to do that again."

Sister-:"Oh my god. Okay you know what, no, you need to get over it. You're boring. You never used to be this boring. And you're being a shithead. I saw Walsh at the kids football game the other day, and he's right you know, you've got to get over your whatever this stupidity is. Suck it up! You're not that old for god's sakes! Grow up!"

Me-:"Thanks for the pep talk."

She made a noise then that sounded like something a cat would make. "I'm never talking to you again."

Dirty Laundry 36

Was making dinner, when the phone buzzed. It was my cousin Walsh. "Are you home?"

Me-:"Yeah."

Walsh-:"I've been ringing your buzzer for five minutes."

Me-:"They still haven't fixed it."  I went out to the main lobby of the building and let him in. "What's up?"

He followed me back down the two long hallways to my apartment not saying anything. My cousin went from room to room checking the place out.  "You're still not unpacked?"

Me-:"I need to get some more book shelves, and stuff. Everything okay?"

He nodded opening and closing the cupboards in the kitchen. "Yeah. What were you going on about last night for? I caught up with the fairy tale and the piece you wrote last night was good."

Me-:"That short piece took me three hours to crank out. I'm hitting that wall again."

Walsh-:"You're over thinking it."

Me-:"Always. So, what's going on?"

He shrugged. "You said you needed to talk last night. So...did you?"

Me-:"And you are referring to?"

Walsh-:"I don't understand why you insist on being so stupid? Talk to him. That's what the internet is for, breaking down the whole famous thing."

Me-:"Well, with your theory, goes both ways. If a famous person wants to talk to their fans, specially if he's as you believe Mr. Scratchy, then he knows how to get a hold of me."

Walsh-:"You believe it too."

Me-:"Tell you what. I'll give him till the next ppv. Then...I give up completely."

He looked at me sideways as he reached for his cigarettes. "Can I smoke here or is this a non-smoking building?"

Me-:"You can smoke in the apartment."

He nodded lighting his cigarette, leaning back against the sink. "You'll give up as in take my advice or give up-give up?"

Me-:"I will find a way to find the real Mr. Scratchy. If he's still alive."

Walsh-:"Yeah, that didn't answer my question. And you know, you know Mad Hatter is the real Mr. Scratchy. You're just being a douche about it."  We heard a door slam and a male voice screaming about something, not in English. "Home sweet home."

Me-:"I think he's having an affair."

Walsh-:"Mr. Scratchy?"

Me-:"The dude in the hallway. I think he's cheating on his wife. She was out there all morning crying."

Walsh shrugged again butting out his cigarette in a candle holder I had sitting on the kitchen table. "Okay. Just stopped by to see what you had done with the new place. I have to go get my oldest, she's at a friend's place. Have you made any new friends?" he smiled at me, blushing like he does.

Me-:"I'm too old to make friends."

Walsh-:"Na, you're just too scared. Never too old." he ducked out the side door before I could say anything else.

The Desperate Housewife

I woke this morning to the sounds of a female voice in the hallway screaming. Peaking out through the peeper, I saw this young chick standing there banging on the door two doors down from me, in her nightgown, screaming at whomever was inside. The door opened a few minutes later and a male voice screamed something back. Not in English.
That was at 7am.

Decided to make myself a cup of coffee cause, wide awake by that, and grabbed the tarot cards. The sound of a door slamming again and the female voice talking rapidly again. Once again, not English. She's been in the hallway for the last three hours, crying, into her cell phone.

Twice the neighbours have come out and spoken to her. Once to ask if she was alright, and once to tell her to shut up she's disrupting things. She told the second guy she was locked out and waiting for the manager to bring a key. That was the only English she's spoken all morning.

Few minutes ago, I heard the door open and slam shut again, and fighting. Looking through the peeper again, I saw the man come out of the apartment dressed and telling her something, once again not in English and walk away.

She's been sitting on the floor of the hallway, still on the phone, still in her nightgown, still crying.

Dirty Laundry 35

I sent a message to my cousin Walsh. "I've lost it! Totally gone."

The phoned buzzed a few seconds later.  "What? Was this for me?"

Oh crap! I sent it not to my cousin but to my Naked Neighbour. His number was next to my cousin's.

Me-:"Sorry. No not for you. Sorry."

NN-:"No worries. How are you?"

Me-:"Good. You?"

NN-:"Not bad. Would be better if I had more beer. So what did you loose?"

Me-:"Uh...nothing."

I tried again sending the message to my cousin Walsh, double checking this time.

Walsh-:"????"

Me-:"My muse. Gone! Have you been reading the fairy tale lately? I don't know what I'm doing, it's turned to crap and I need to talk."

Walsh-:"No, haven't had a chance with work. I'll check later. How can your muse be gone? I thought you were totally inspired by Mad Hatter and them?"

Me-:"Was. Now...nothing. It's like dried dirt."

Walsh-:"Haha! That would be dust."

Me-:"Exactly."

Walsh-:"Well, maybe you just need to stop for awhile and write something else?"

Me-:"Why didn't I think of that? Oh right cause nothing is coming to me! At all. I tried that and got two sentences in an entire day. I can't go through writer's block again! Last time it was over two years with it and I can't..."

He went silent and I started flipping channels till I got to the Food Network. Just sort of zoned out and had a cup of tea, waiting. Writer's block has become an issue for me the way not having enough money to pay bills does for other people. It sends me into such a panic, and the longer I can't seem to break out of it, the more it weighs on me. 

Phone buzzed again with a message from Walsh. "I think you should talk to him."

Me-:"Don't start. Did you read it yet?"

Walsh-:"No, will later. Facebook, Twitter..."

Me-:"Shut up! That's creepy."

Walsh-:"It's what it's there for. For fans to stalk their heroes. Haha!"

Me-:"You're not helping. I need inspiration."

Walsh-:"That would inspire me, talking to my favourite wrestler."

Me-:"I'm not you."

Walsh-:"Coward."

Fine, I'm a coward, a big coward.  Big coward with writer's block.

3:54pm Aug 20th

Why is it you always bump into someone cute when you look like crap?  That is the unspoken rule isn't it?  Mom had a doctor's appointment this morning,  like early this morning. So here's me, barely rolled out of bed, looking like something you find on the bottom of your shoe, sitting in an overly packed waiting room with her, when the door to one of the exam rooms opens and the hottest guy this side of  Toronto walked out. 
Dark rimmed glasses, short sandy-brown hair, about 5 '10, a smile that would melt butter, and dimples. Couldn't have been more then about 26-27 years old.  Dressed in scrubs.

Oh my, he's a doctor! Well, it ended up he was an assistant, but clearly he's got the brains to go with that beauty.

I spotted him grab a chart, look around for his patient, and I couldn't think. Brain went numb. He looked at me sitting there in the doctor's waiting room, nodded, smiled and proceeded to call his next patient.

Brain still numb. I was caught staring at him. Watched him walk to the far side of the room to check if there was another free exam room, and he looked up, caught me looking at him and smiled again. Well that was more like a smirk, but you know what I mean.  I seriously don't know what was going through his mind, other then what a mess I must have looked.

He nodded and smiled again when he past me again going back to the original exam room with his patient. I felt flush, noticed even; in a good way. Might even say smug for about three seconds.
Then I noticed all the nurses come off their coffee break.  All of them not much more then about 23 years old, slim tiny stick figures, perfect hair, perfect skin. You know the types. And I slunk down in my seat suddenly feeling old and less then. I couldn't compete with girls like that when I was young, let alone now.

Anyways, sitting there with mom for almost two hours, just waiting when I went to ask how much longer.  The hot guy walked out of his exam room again and over to where I was standing, leaned on the desk, didn't talk to anyone, just stood there butt in the air, stood back up straight, picked up a file, put it back down, picked it up again played with the edge of it and put it back down. When the secretary at the desk asked what he was needing he said he didn't need anything. 

Cool part, none; none of the young stick figures were standing around.  You know that made me feel good.

Then it was my mom's turn to see the doctor and sadly, that was that. Smart men never looked that good when I was that age.

The Guard

There is this woman, I'd say about 23 years old, who every day between noon and 1pm stands outside. She doesn't talk to anyone, doesn't acknowledge anyone when they pass her and say hi, just stands there having a smoke. Every day, for an hour.
She isn't connected to the managers or to housecleaning, so it's not like she's on her lunch break. She lives somewhere in the building, as I always see her holding keys. But it's a bit creepy. The way she seems to be guarding the building or something.

This building, it's like living in a new town, not just a new neighbourhood.

Randomness Aug 18th

Sitting here listening to the crows outside the window, wondering how I'm going to connect the next few pieces of the fairy tale. I suddenly hear this scratching noise, massively loud, and start heading towards where it is. The kitchen. Start opening cupboards, nothing. Thank god! Still hearing it. It's coming from the front door. Look through the peeper but there isn't anyone. The noise is still happening, and louder. Dare to open the door and find, someone's dog on a broken leash in the hallway.

This little kid comes running down the hall with the other half of the broken leash in his hand, and something that I think is jello smeared on his face. Might have been jam, or lolli? Who knows. He stops, tucks himself next to the wall all shy and quickly runs over to grab the broken leash.  Only the dog runs from him thinking it's a game.  Dog runs down the hall barely clearing the corner as he does, runs back, runs down the hall around the corner again. The whole time the little boy looks like he's going to cry.

He starts to run after him then stop, turns and does that open hand-closed hand wave kids do. Then back down the hall and disappears around the corner.

And now, the heavy scent of peanut butter and fried food seems to be coming from somewhere in the hallway as I close the door and go back into my place.

And I still have no clue how to piece together the next part of the fairy tale?

Post it note 16th Aug

Dear Herman:

Saw the show last night, Mad Hatter will never heal if he doesn't take a few weeks off.

Anyways, Mr. Scratchy, the Knight of Cups keeps popping up. I think that's suppose to be you. Every time lately that I use the tarot, the same card appears. There is a message there somewhere.

I imagine you checking in today, sandwich hanging out of your mouth, a baseball cap on backwards, bit of mustard on your face from your sandwich, dressed in a plain t-shirt, maybe a faded grey one, and shorts.  And you're thinking that I was right, Mad Hatter should have picked a barbed wire match for tomorrow's ppv.

Smile, smirk and snarl.

Sign here

There was a knock at the door a half hour ago. Which, given it was not even 7:30am, was a bit unnerving. Checking the peeper (finally, not having to just take a chance when opening the door like at the old place) I saw two guys standing there with a clipboard.
I recognized the one guy as being the neighbour down the hall who helped me move in the first night, so I opened the door. (the very nice East Indian man my Naked Neighbour from the old apartment was catty about)

"We need you to sign here please...you don't have a dog do you?"  this was the other guy with him.

Me-:"No, no dog."

Second Guy-:"Very good. Please, sign this as we are trying to get the manager to remove the dog in that apartment."   he pointed to the nearest door on the right. "They never take their dog out at night and it poops everywhere."

I have to admit, I was a little shocked few days ago to find what looks like pee stains on the rug of the hallway when I went to check the mail.

First Guy-:"We're not trying to get all pets removed from the building, just that one."

I looked at it, saw there were four names already and wondered who do I want to anger more? The person with the dog or these other guys?

Me-:"I've only been here a few days, they haven't bothered me...yet, so I don't know if I really want to be part of this?"

Second Guy-:"There are twenty apartments on this floor, and we need all the other nineteen to sign for that one to be dealt with."

First Guy-:"We're going to be late for work."

Me-:"Sorry. Just don't think I..."

The door to the main street opened, and this guy came in with four little dogs. He didn't say anything, didn't look at anyone, just went on past with the dogs, and knocked on the door of the neighbour in question. We stood there like idiots just waiting.
The door opened and two more little dogs ran out into the hallway as this guy made his way into the apartment with the four leashed ones before calling for the two that were now in the hallway.  The one little fluffy white one peed on the wall by the maintenance room door.

Me-:"That's not all his right?"

Second Guy-:"No idea. I just know the two that came out of the apartment, he never takes them out."

Me-:"Wow! I can't believe I just saw that." 

I signed it.  If I hadn't of seen it happen right there in front of me, I wouldn't have, but there it was. Dog owner just not caring.  Starting to think I traded in one type of apartment hell for another.

post it note saturday aug 9th

Dear Herman:

How you doing today?  It's a melt where you sit day here with a +26C and +33C humidex.  I've said it before, I'm not designed for hot weather.

Thought I'd drop a note just cause I haven't written you one in awhile. 

I imagine you checking in today, chewing on some mint gum, having just gotten your hair cut, listening to a playlist that includes Pantera. Like from twenty years ago, like Cowboys from Hell, dressed in shorts...wait, unless you're one of those wrestlers who waxes/shaves his legs? Shorts if you are man enough to leave them hairy, jeans if you're one of those wrestlers who bows to trying to look tv pretty. And a yellow t-shirt. I like yellow shirts, I have no real idea why, just always have.

Okay Herman, that's all for now.

Smile, smirk and snarl.

Mr. Pebbles

"Hey I'm here!" tink tink tink. "Can you not hear me?" tink tink tink. "I can smell curry! Hello!"

This was what was happening outside my front window for the last few minutes. This guy, mid-50's, overly tanned to the point he looked like a burned hot dog, and dressed in a pair of shorts and a black hustler t-shirt, with a really bad porn-stache, was screaming up at the person/people who live right above me.
Same dude was here at 2am two nights ago doing the same thing. Chucking pebbles up at their window.

Honestly, I've only ever seen that done in movies and in real life by four year olds who didn't know better. I'd hate to see how big the rocks will get if Mr. Pebbles is ever angry.

Checking in

On my way in with an armful of groceries, when my phone buzzed. There was a message from my cousin Walsh. Haven't heard from him in a while, thought he was pissed off at me.

Walsh-:"How's it going? Any bad neighbours?"

Me-:"Spiffy. So far, nothing serious."

Walsh-:"You going to the BBQ?"

Me-:"Nope. No point, vegetarian besides...I don't want to see your sister."

Walsh-:"Okay. Did you see the show last night?"

Me-:"Yes. You?"

Walsh-:"Yeah. So taking bets on what your man is going to choose?"

Me-:"Barbed wire! I want it to be barbed wire!"

Walsh-:"I knew you were going to say that! Haha! Too dangerous. Ladders maybe?"

Me-:"Most likely. Wait, were we actually betting anything?"

Walsh-:"You want to?"

Me-:"Na. Let's just see which of us is right."

Walsh-:"So, you going to get the new website thing now that it's available in Canada?"

Me-:"Thinking about it. Depends on if it's actually offered here or not. I don't think we are even a city that gets that cable company...are we?"

Walsh-:"Don't know. Would be cool if we did. I know they bought out the phone company, so who knows for sure. But anyways, just thought I'd check in, see how you are doing. Dad said he helped you do some of the moving last week. Thought I'd check in, see if you have any crazy neighbours?"

Me-:"So far so good."

Return of the Naked Neighbour

I had asked my brother in law, if he could help put my futon together few days ago. He said no. Too busy. 
Okay, I can figure something out. Though I had no clue what. Then, as I was standing there dumping large bags of trash in the hallway so that I wouldn't trip over them while moving the rest of my stuff; it got figured out for me.

My across the hall neighbour came out of his apartment, grabbed the trash for me without saying anything and taking it out to the bins for me. When he came back into the building, I asked him for help.

Okay, first off, I have an issue asking for help in general if I'm not needing medical attention. Second, I didn't know him from a hole in the ground. We've maybe said "hi/bye/it's raining out" when bumping into each other coming or going over the whole time he's lived there. The biggest conversation to that point was the day I bumped into him like a month ago when I offered to sell the bass.

He said sure, not a problem. He'd help in exchange for the bass.

It took 6 hours over the course of two nights to get the thing together.  The instructions said "half hour assembly time".  Really? A short half hour, for who the Flash?
It might have taken less, like say 4 hours if it hadn't been for the fact my neighbour's cell phone kept binging every few minutes. He'd just joined a dating site and seemed very popular.

Me-:"I thought you were in a relationship?"

Neighbour-:"Was. We broke up...sort of. We've got a kid together, but the last year, totally unhappy so..." he shrugged as the phone binged again.

That would explain some of the flirting he was up to the other day.  After the second night and finally getting the futon to work, he just sat there. For like an hour, doing nothing but playing with the bass, badly. I had to kick him out, he just wouldn't leave.

Yes, there was a brief moment where I thought he might just be waiting for an invite to stay, but with all the comments he was making about some of the women on the dating site, I knew that wasn't where I wanted to be. Besides, he's still really hung up on his ex, plus he's got a kid.  Not my idea of fun.
But as he was leaving, two things happened. He commented on the fact that when he had first arrived, one of the new neighbours in my new building, a very nice East Indian guy, was helping me bring bags and boxes in so that I didn't block the front door too long. And, he told me anytime I needed anything, just call him.

Call.  Not text. Which for any man that I've ever known, is an oddity in itself. Other then relatives, I haven't had a man "call" in years. They always text. Seems to be a safety net for them or something.

So as I sit here now, in my new apartment, surrounded by half unpacked boxes and cardboard pieces; I'm wondering what's next? And why did my old neighbour seem a bit...catty?