Once again I have found a way to shorten a stay in yet another dwelling. Over the past 14 or 15 years I have moved several times. Ever since I moved into the college dorms back in 1991 in Tampa at USF I have averaged about one move every year.
The breakdown (where and why I moved):
1991 Moved to USF (to get an edubacation)
1992 Moved into different dorm (could not afford the expensive dorm any longer)
1993 Moved into seedy apartments in Tampa next to Nebraska Ave. (could not stand my fraternity crazed roomate any longer--gunshots every night were worth it)
1994 Moved to University Townhouse Apartments across from USF (wanted to live in an apartment that had a bar on the premises)
1995 Moved to studio apartment still in Tampa (left crazy girlfriend for new girlfriend)
1995 Moved to another apartment (ex-crazy girlfriend stalking us)
1996 Moved into townhouse with 4 other guys and lived on the floor (drunk)
1996 Moved into yet another apartment in Tampa with my roomate (still drunk)
1997 Moved to Orlando with my sister Sunny in the house she's still in (pursued Masters Degree--still a little drunk)
2002 Moved to Houston, Texas for a year in a house on the ocean (wanted to torture myself)
2003 Moved back to Orlando into my parents house (swam across the Gulf of Mexico to get away from George Bush and all of his friends in Houston)
2003 Moved into a house in Downtown Orlando (strategically aligning myself to collide with the love of my wife)
2004 Moved into an apartment where I would fall in love with, marry and conceive a baby with Susie (a.k.a. The Mayan Ruins)
2005 Moved into another apartment where Jack was born and I would have the most difficult year of my life (bringing us to the present)
2006 We now have to move in July because the owner of our complex is very wealthy and does not want the headache of two people complaining about a moldy apartment or their ceiling that creates it's own afternoon showers...she wrote us a letter indicating that she is sorry for what we have gone through, disowned any responsibility for what transpired, and told us our lease would not be renewed due to my using the "F" Bomb...in actuality, I just found out that the apartments we live in are going to turn condo anyway and no leases will be renewed. The woman just wanted to make us feel bad further bolstering my contention that she is simply MEAN!!! It's all for the best.
But, once again, I'm moving. A tumbleweed.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
My New Favorite Picture
This was shot last month at Jack's second wedding in a week. This is moments before his pants fell off.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
The Pool and The Food
This message is to officially announce....Jack is swimming! Well, at least he's getting in the pool. Everyday for about a week now, Jack goes for a swim at around 3:30. He loves playing on the ledge splashing around. After about 30 minutes, he then eats his dinner (solid foods) outside while drying off until going inside for a bath and then a bottle. This ends with him going to bed at or around 6pm. He usually wakes up a few times but fusses back to sleep all by himself typically waking at or around 6am. Then he goes in his swing while Susie and I attempt to squeeze in another hour of sleep.
Anyway, the boy is growing up and, I must say, has become very pleasant these days. Pictures of pool time to follow soon. He has also mastered the art of sitting, can eat Cheerios and mushy things off our plates, and seems to love to make us laugh with a fake cough which he finds hilarious. He also can apparently eat batteries or so he thinks...the other day Susie and I watched as he chewed on something while sitting in his walker. At some point Susie said, "what is he chewing on". I said, "I dunno", thinking nothing of it. Susie got up and moved in closer, "I think it's a...", I stood up and moved in as like a cat ready to pounce. Susie finished her sentence "...a battery!" Jack had figured out a way to open his a toy and pull a battery out and, of course, eat it. Susie worried he may have already swallowed one or two looked to see if the rest were still in the toy.
Jack's taking this solid thing way too far but for the most part it is going well. We love our boy!!!
Anyway, the boy is growing up and, I must say, has become very pleasant these days. Pictures of pool time to follow soon. He has also mastered the art of sitting, can eat Cheerios and mushy things off our plates, and seems to love to make us laugh with a fake cough which he finds hilarious. He also can apparently eat batteries or so he thinks...the other day Susie and I watched as he chewed on something while sitting in his walker. At some point Susie said, "what is he chewing on". I said, "I dunno", thinking nothing of it. Susie got up and moved in closer, "I think it's a...", I stood up and moved in as like a cat ready to pounce. Susie finished her sentence "...a battery!" Jack had figured out a way to open his a toy and pull a battery out and, of course, eat it. Susie worried he may have already swallowed one or two looked to see if the rest were still in the toy.
Jack's taking this solid thing way too far but for the most part it is going well. We love our boy!!!
Monday, April 17, 2006
Whatever Happened To Aunt Jane?
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Home | U.S. | World | Politics | SciTech | Health | Entertainment
The Odd Truth, Apr. 18, 2006
NEW YORK, Apr. 18, 2006
Angry Woman Targets Lobster Divers
Miami, Fla. - A woman who was upset about lobster divers in the canal near her house, The Lindgren House, famed for Keith and Susie Raskin’s million dollar wedding in 2005, was arrested after allegedly shooting at them with a handgun. Jane Priscilla Pyle fired a shot near a pontoon boat Thursday as others warned divers participating in the state's annual two-day sport lobster hunt, witnesses told investigators.
No one was injured aside for a few innocent chickens and the crazed woman’s husband, Cornel Kramer. Kramer is recovering in a local hospital and has been informed he can go home but he insists upon staying saying only, “She’s crazy, you can’t make me go back, she’s crazy!”
In a telephone interview Saturday with The Associated Press, Pyle said she fired into the water and could see the bullet's downward path.
"That's my canal, and they have no business in there," an enraged Priscilla said. "They was taking the lobster, and we're not going to have no more lobsters."
Ms. Pyle, of an undisclosed, post-menopausal age, told police she had a .38-caliber handgun under her pillow. Officers confiscated the gun, a handheld flare gun and a BB gun.
She was charged Thursday with aggravated assault and discharging a firearm in public. She smiled for her mug shot (see picture above) which she also insisted include her cat and all of the books she owns because she wants to appear, “unignorant” to all of her students at Miami Dade where she has been teaching since 5 days after she was born. She spent the night in the Monroe County Jail and was released Friday.
A new county ordinance bars hunters from catching spiny lobsters within 300 feet of a residence outside the city of Key West. Pyle says she doesn’t care if she lives in another country from Key West, “stay away from my lobsters”. She added that she prefers if people refer to her as “Ant Crazie from the great Grundy County”. Then she spit in a can.
"People come from out of town and everything. It's just a big scam for the hotels to make money, and we have enough traffic down here as it is," she said. "I'm going to fight it to the doggone end." “I hate doctors, babies, doctors’ babies, and babies that are doctors in that order, oh, and lobster hunters”:
Home | U.S. | World | Politics | SciTech | Health | Entertainment
The Odd Truth, Apr. 18, 2006
NEW YORK, Apr. 18, 2006
Angry Woman Targets Lobster Divers
Miami, Fla. - A woman who was upset about lobster divers in the canal near her house, The Lindgren House, famed for Keith and Susie Raskin’s million dollar wedding in 2005, was arrested after allegedly shooting at them with a handgun. Jane Priscilla Pyle fired a shot near a pontoon boat Thursday as others warned divers participating in the state's annual two-day sport lobster hunt, witnesses told investigators.
No one was injured aside for a few innocent chickens and the crazed woman’s husband, Cornel Kramer. Kramer is recovering in a local hospital and has been informed he can go home but he insists upon staying saying only, “She’s crazy, you can’t make me go back, she’s crazy!”
In a telephone interview Saturday with The Associated Press, Pyle said she fired into the water and could see the bullet's downward path.
"That's my canal, and they have no business in there," an enraged Priscilla said. "They was taking the lobster, and we're not going to have no more lobsters."
Ms. Pyle, of an undisclosed, post-menopausal age, told police she had a .38-caliber handgun under her pillow. Officers confiscated the gun, a handheld flare gun and a BB gun.
She was charged Thursday with aggravated assault and discharging a firearm in public. She smiled for her mug shot (see picture above) which she also insisted include her cat and all of the books she owns because she wants to appear, “unignorant” to all of her students at Miami Dade where she has been teaching since 5 days after she was born. She spent the night in the Monroe County Jail and was released Friday.
A new county ordinance bars hunters from catching spiny lobsters within 300 feet of a residence outside the city of Key West. Pyle says she doesn’t care if she lives in another country from Key West, “stay away from my lobsters”. She added that she prefers if people refer to her as “Ant Crazie from the great Grundy County”. Then she spit in a can.
"People come from out of town and everything. It's just a big scam for the hotels to make money, and we have enough traffic down here as it is," she said. "I'm going to fight it to the doggone end." “I hate doctors, babies, doctors’ babies, and babies that are doctors in that order, oh, and lobster hunters”:
Jack and Tiffany and Easterly Comments
Apparently Jack likes stained glass and especially giant cathedral sized stained glass. This weekend we wandered into a museum in Winter Park that had free admission due to it being Easter Sunday. Susie, Jack, and I, along with two friends, Stef and Jason, took Jack to see what was inside. We found a strange museum filled with a huge collection of stained glass on display. Jack decided to sing songs for each piece depending on how the colors and there meticulous arrangements inspired him. He developed a very gothic sounding song named, "I Got Your Ooooh and Your Ahhh Right Here Jesus!" while wandering through model chapel decorated with a glass chandelier created by Tiffany himself. Anyway, I guess Jack will like Europe so if anyone wants to purchase him a trip to Europe for his birthday I think he would like that, oh, and his parents would need to go along as chaperones as he is still very young and likely to get into trouble without us.
Side note regarding Easter, a.k.a. "Zombie Day", if I may borrow a phrase coined by one of my readers who will remain anonymous unless of course she chooses to claim it; I was reminded this weekend of the marginilizing powers of religion when I told the story of my early experiences with Catholicism and Judaism to our friends Stef and Jay. The story goes something like what follows:
At around 6 or 7 years of age, I would frequently attend Catholic church with my neighbor and his family, willingly! The reason I wanted to attend had very little to do with the entertaining services and everything to do with the free donuts immediately following services. Somehow this was worth the strange feelings of alienation provoked by sitting in the pews while "real" Catholics took communion. Often, my sister Sunny and I were left sitting in an aisle all alone like abandoned children by those "going to heaven". We knew that this had something to do with us not being Catholic, and, therefore, we were going to hell in everyone elses eyes. This never seemed to bother anyone in the church as no member of the church nor clergyman ever took the time out to either console or explain any of this to us. We just figured it out...we were doomed because our father was Jewish.
Meanwhile, my grandfather would ask my father if Sunny and I wanted to attend Temple services with him and my grandmother. My father would tell us that we were going without any choice in the matter and would then send us with our grandparents. The forcing was necessary as there were no donuts in Temple and I had to dawn a yamaka each and every time I went and was not going to go voluntarily, ever! At temple, Sunny and I were always the youngest in attendance by at least 40 years. Each and every time we went, I dreaded the inevitable comment that sounded something like this sarcastically toned, "Look at the cute little German kids", hands reaching out from all directions to pinch our cheeks and pat our bleach blonde heads or hold us like we were dolls from their childhood. Then someone in the crowd always said, "Is their mother Jewish or their father?", followed by sighs and coughs and an "oh well" when my grandparents disappointedly would respond, "their father". Suddenly, all eyes shifted to the Tora as we were no longer worthy of attention. Fact is we are part German on my mother's side and certainly not German Jew. I knew this meant we weren't Jewish and definitely not Catholic. I guess this is how the Unitarian Church was eventually formed...I don't think they serve donuts but I think you could bring your own and noone would mind.
I guess what I learned from all of this as a child is how to spell the words Yamaka, from Judaism, and Pew, from Catholicism. I looked them up to see if I spelled them correct and I did. Thanks priests and rabbis. However, I did not go to temple enough apparently to learn how to spell Tora correctly as it is Torah.
Note to Jack, "stay golden pony boy". It's gonna got a little weird. Maybe not just a little.
Side note regarding Easter, a.k.a. "Zombie Day", if I may borrow a phrase coined by one of my readers who will remain anonymous unless of course she chooses to claim it; I was reminded this weekend of the marginilizing powers of religion when I told the story of my early experiences with Catholicism and Judaism to our friends Stef and Jay. The story goes something like what follows:
At around 6 or 7 years of age, I would frequently attend Catholic church with my neighbor and his family, willingly! The reason I wanted to attend had very little to do with the entertaining services and everything to do with the free donuts immediately following services. Somehow this was worth the strange feelings of alienation provoked by sitting in the pews while "real" Catholics took communion. Often, my sister Sunny and I were left sitting in an aisle all alone like abandoned children by those "going to heaven". We knew that this had something to do with us not being Catholic, and, therefore, we were going to hell in everyone elses eyes. This never seemed to bother anyone in the church as no member of the church nor clergyman ever took the time out to either console or explain any of this to us. We just figured it out...we were doomed because our father was Jewish.
Meanwhile, my grandfather would ask my father if Sunny and I wanted to attend Temple services with him and my grandmother. My father would tell us that we were going without any choice in the matter and would then send us with our grandparents. The forcing was necessary as there were no donuts in Temple and I had to dawn a yamaka each and every time I went and was not going to go voluntarily, ever! At temple, Sunny and I were always the youngest in attendance by at least 40 years. Each and every time we went, I dreaded the inevitable comment that sounded something like this sarcastically toned, "Look at the cute little German kids", hands reaching out from all directions to pinch our cheeks and pat our bleach blonde heads or hold us like we were dolls from their childhood. Then someone in the crowd always said, "Is their mother Jewish or their father?", followed by sighs and coughs and an "oh well" when my grandparents disappointedly would respond, "their father". Suddenly, all eyes shifted to the Tora as we were no longer worthy of attention. Fact is we are part German on my mother's side and certainly not German Jew. I knew this meant we weren't Jewish and definitely not Catholic. I guess this is how the Unitarian Church was eventually formed...I don't think they serve donuts but I think you could bring your own and noone would mind.
I guess what I learned from all of this as a child is how to spell the words Yamaka, from Judaism, and Pew, from Catholicism. I looked them up to see if I spelled them correct and I did. Thanks priests and rabbis. However, I did not go to temple enough apparently to learn how to spell Tora correctly as it is Torah.
Note to Jack, "stay golden pony boy". It's gonna got a little weird. Maybe not just a little.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Happy 29th Birthday Susie Blue
It ain't easy to plan a birthday celebration when Jack's around. The day before Susie's big day, Jack and I went to the mall. I had full intention of shopping for Susie. However, Jack decided not to nap all day and fuss everytime I stopped to look at anything. I ended up walking around the mall for several hours until Susie met us and finally, Jack fell asleep. By that time I had managed to buy Susie one gift, a Clinique gift set, which I would notice while walking with Susie would have come with a free gift if bought at Dillards rather than Macy's. It was too late as Jack had taken the wind out of my sails early on Saturday leaving me with no gusto for shopping later that evening.
Jack got his picture taken with the Easter Bunny, a scary one with big black eyes. The kid before him freaked out right before it was his turn and the parents had to turn back after waiting in line. Jack, however, smiled for his picture oblivious to the giant rabbit all together seemingly.
After Jack went to bed, it was off to get all the things I planned to get earlier in the day. At this point it was about 7:30pm. By 12am I was finally in bed, presents wrapped, yellow tulips scattered around the house, balloons taped to the walls, picnic foods and basket readied for travel, and cards written, including Jack's card to his mom written in grean beans.
Next morning Susie slept in whilst I fed the beast. She opened her presents from Jack first. He got her a...sippy cup (one for him and one for her even though I told him she had practically mastered drinking out of cups already), a Wolverine Pez dispenser (it's what he grabbed when I told him to pick something out for his mom), and a pair of swimming pants (so he won't pee on his mother in the pool as we plan to go for our first swim in the next week). From me Susie got an outfit from Express and the Clinique gift set, both of which must be returned...oh well. I wanted to get us plane tickets to Europe but held off due to the impending check-up on Jack's cyst next month.
After the gifts were all opened, it was time to get ready for our trip to Wekiwa State Park where I had a big picnic planned. From here the day went well. We sat with our feet, Jack's included, in the springs. We hiked down a trail through the woods. We had a picnic on a grassy slope with our birthday hats on while drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade. Then we went back down the trail while Jack took a nap and I attempted to light Susie's cake in the woods, on the ground, illegally, until a pack of wild hippies snuck up behind us and I was forced to have Susie blow the candles out before they were all lit as we didn't know the hippies were not Forest Police or Smokey The Bear.
The day was perfect as the weather was cool after the previous evening rain. The colors were extra vibrant as a result of the rain and made for a very pleasant picnic and hike. By the time we left, we were exhausted but had a great time on Jack and Susie's first trip to Wekiwa Springs, on Susie's 29th Birthday.
Jack got his picture taken with the Easter Bunny, a scary one with big black eyes. The kid before him freaked out right before it was his turn and the parents had to turn back after waiting in line. Jack, however, smiled for his picture oblivious to the giant rabbit all together seemingly.
After Jack went to bed, it was off to get all the things I planned to get earlier in the day. At this point it was about 7:30pm. By 12am I was finally in bed, presents wrapped, yellow tulips scattered around the house, balloons taped to the walls, picnic foods and basket readied for travel, and cards written, including Jack's card to his mom written in grean beans.
Next morning Susie slept in whilst I fed the beast. She opened her presents from Jack first. He got her a...sippy cup (one for him and one for her even though I told him she had practically mastered drinking out of cups already), a Wolverine Pez dispenser (it's what he grabbed when I told him to pick something out for his mom), and a pair of swimming pants (so he won't pee on his mother in the pool as we plan to go for our first swim in the next week). From me Susie got an outfit from Express and the Clinique gift set, both of which must be returned...oh well. I wanted to get us plane tickets to Europe but held off due to the impending check-up on Jack's cyst next month.
After the gifts were all opened, it was time to get ready for our trip to Wekiwa State Park where I had a big picnic planned. From here the day went well. We sat with our feet, Jack's included, in the springs. We hiked down a trail through the woods. We had a picnic on a grassy slope with our birthday hats on while drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade. Then we went back down the trail while Jack took a nap and I attempted to light Susie's cake in the woods, on the ground, illegally, until a pack of wild hippies snuck up behind us and I was forced to have Susie blow the candles out before they were all lit as we didn't know the hippies were not Forest Police or Smokey The Bear.
The day was perfect as the weather was cool after the previous evening rain. The colors were extra vibrant as a result of the rain and made for a very pleasant picnic and hike. By the time we left, we were exhausted but had a great time on Jack and Susie's first trip to Wekiwa Springs, on Susie's 29th Birthday.
Friday, April 7, 2006
The People of Lake Crest (Our Neighbors)
I'm sitting in the bedroom, at the computer, Friday evening. Susie is feeding Jack dinner and getting ready to put him to bed as we start her Birthday Weekend as I was informed by her that when a birthday falls on the weekend then you get a "birthday weekend". Anyway, as I sit here the neighbor is walking his dog, Snowball.
Snowball is a little curly haired, poodlish dog...I'm not good with dog breads. Snowballs dad, the man that walks Snowball, is a recovering alcoholic and born-again who enjoys "helping people"...code for missionary work. Anyway, everyday Snowball's dad walks her while talking in very high pitched dog language. He does not wear a shirt so everyone can see his ex-beer gut. He's overweight by quite a few pounds and is balding with quite a few gray hairs and more chest hair than myself...that's a great deal of chest hair. He's probably in his late 50's to early 60's but maybe older. He is...jovial...you might say. His little khaki shorts barely hang on to his lower half as he meanders in front of our windows and walks the dog in the grass next to the lake we live on. The picture would be shocking if I hadn't seen it already 100 times.
Recently, Snowball's dad has made friends with the womam from the other side, known as, the lady in the pit from Silence of the Lambs that "puts the lotion in the basket". Not only does this woman resemble the woman from that movie but she also has an identical dog to Snowball and the dog in the movie, white and poodly, named Precious...like the dog in Silence of the Lambs!!!
Some other people in our complex are, the couple in their 20's next door including a man from Virginia that cheats on and I suspect knocks around his girlfriend, a couple in their late 30's upstairs who is very nice even when they are giving our bed a shower with their washing machine, and an old lady we've named "Peanut Butter" because she walks around chewing food and talking with her mouth open allowing us to see what always resembles, you guessed it, the butter of peanuts. This woman I might add has lived here for almost 50 years. For the longest time she would ask, "Do you like it here?" We always said yes but wondered why she kept asking this until in conversation we found out she has lived here since The War, raised kids here, and lost her late husband here as well. Now we know why she was so concerned that we like it here...this is her place! Speaking of Peanut Butter, there she goes. She always wears a moo-moo (Susie says it is mu-mu and she knows this because she has "read alot of books") around the complex with slippers and always says, "hello", in what sounds like a German accent. I like her. I even enjoy talking to her. Those of you that know me well know this is not a regular thing, for me to enjoy talking to people.
Other neighbors include, Squirrel Friend...named by Jack. He lives all by himself in the giant oak tree outside our window. There's also Hermee...a boy who came to our house once and convinced me to buy a stuffed animal to support his Christian Academy. He was determined to sell me Hermee, the worm, even though I wanted to buy Buzby. Apparently Buzby represents Satan as he warned me that I shouldn't buy him because he sins alot. He asks whenever I see him, "has Hermee been to your school yet?" and "do you use him?". Truth is I don't even know where he is but I always tell him yes. Meanwhile, Hermee, the boy not the stuffed animal, is typically falling off his bike on the sidewalk screaming and telling me that he always falls in the same place. He better pray more I suppose!
These are the people that we live with, not exactly Melrose Place. Next time maybe I'll tell you about some of our other neighbors, including, Nutella, Jelly, and Apple Butter, the girl that only wears one skirt all of the time, and the man who plays music from WWII across the lake every Sunday while burning sticks.
We like it here and hope we don't get kicked out by the Republican owners...
Snowball is a little curly haired, poodlish dog...I'm not good with dog breads. Snowballs dad, the man that walks Snowball, is a recovering alcoholic and born-again who enjoys "helping people"...code for missionary work. Anyway, everyday Snowball's dad walks her while talking in very high pitched dog language. He does not wear a shirt so everyone can see his ex-beer gut. He's overweight by quite a few pounds and is balding with quite a few gray hairs and more chest hair than myself...that's a great deal of chest hair. He's probably in his late 50's to early 60's but maybe older. He is...jovial...you might say. His little khaki shorts barely hang on to his lower half as he meanders in front of our windows and walks the dog in the grass next to the lake we live on. The picture would be shocking if I hadn't seen it already 100 times.
Recently, Snowball's dad has made friends with the womam from the other side, known as, the lady in the pit from Silence of the Lambs that "puts the lotion in the basket". Not only does this woman resemble the woman from that movie but she also has an identical dog to Snowball and the dog in the movie, white and poodly, named Precious...like the dog in Silence of the Lambs!!!
Some other people in our complex are, the couple in their 20's next door including a man from Virginia that cheats on and I suspect knocks around his girlfriend, a couple in their late 30's upstairs who is very nice even when they are giving our bed a shower with their washing machine, and an old lady we've named "Peanut Butter" because she walks around chewing food and talking with her mouth open allowing us to see what always resembles, you guessed it, the butter of peanuts. This woman I might add has lived here for almost 50 years. For the longest time she would ask, "Do you like it here?" We always said yes but wondered why she kept asking this until in conversation we found out she has lived here since The War, raised kids here, and lost her late husband here as well. Now we know why she was so concerned that we like it here...this is her place! Speaking of Peanut Butter, there she goes. She always wears a moo-moo (Susie says it is mu-mu and she knows this because she has "read alot of books") around the complex with slippers and always says, "hello", in what sounds like a German accent. I like her. I even enjoy talking to her. Those of you that know me well know this is not a regular thing, for me to enjoy talking to people.
Other neighbors include, Squirrel Friend...named by Jack. He lives all by himself in the giant oak tree outside our window. There's also Hermee...a boy who came to our house once and convinced me to buy a stuffed animal to support his Christian Academy. He was determined to sell me Hermee, the worm, even though I wanted to buy Buzby. Apparently Buzby represents Satan as he warned me that I shouldn't buy him because he sins alot. He asks whenever I see him, "has Hermee been to your school yet?" and "do you use him?". Truth is I don't even know where he is but I always tell him yes. Meanwhile, Hermee, the boy not the stuffed animal, is typically falling off his bike on the sidewalk screaming and telling me that he always falls in the same place. He better pray more I suppose!
These are the people that we live with, not exactly Melrose Place. Next time maybe I'll tell you about some of our other neighbors, including, Nutella, Jelly, and Apple Butter, the girl that only wears one skirt all of the time, and the man who plays music from WWII across the lake every Sunday while burning sticks.
We like it here and hope we don't get kicked out by the Republican owners...
Tuesday, April 4, 2006
The Sky Is Falling
Yes, the sky finally fell on us. It was only a matter of time I suppose considering the year we've had.
On Wednesday afternoon, 4 days after Susie and I's first wedding anniversary and 1 day before my very stressful,yearly family event at the school I work within, our upstairs neighbors decided to end the drought in Orlando and called for torential downpours...in our bedroom!!! It went something like this:
I got home at around 3pm to Susie feeding Jack in the living room. Zip, the cat came running down the hall as I said hello to both of them, looking somewhat disheveled. Faintly, I could hear a strange sound coming from the end of the hallway. As I moved closer, I began to think the bathtub or sink was running as the sound resembled water. I said something to Susie like, "do you hear that?" She responded with something like, "What? Oh, yeah. What is it?" As I moved down the hall, I began to anticipate something bad as the sound was too loud to be a little bit of water. I said to Susie, "I don't know, but it isn't good", while turning the corner towards our bedroom. In front of me was our bed, taking a shower. Water poured from the ceiling from one side of the room to the other. Susie and I began grabbing everything and moving it out of the room as Jack layed in his crib.
I ran down to the front office, but noone was to be found. I decided to go to the apartment above us to see if anyone was there, only to find the neighbors hysterically attempting to mop their apartment not knowing where the office staff was either. They indicated that their washer had never shut off leaking all over the apartment and ours.
Like the government responding to a natural disaster, finally the apartment maintenance appeared.
Awhile back we had begun to notice mold in our apartment in the bathroom, around our windows and IN OUR BABIES CRIB! This resulted in a letter to the front office asking for immediate attention to the problem. They caulked the windows but never did any of the other things they had said they were going to do. Meanwhile, we still had mold growing in the bathroom. Needless to say, when water began pouring into our apartment, I was concerned that we may end up living with mold all around. I spoke to the office assistant, Kim, who indicated she couldn't tell me anything regarding timeframes as to when or how the cleanup of the new mess would begin. My blood boiled as I discussed the need for quick action and my need to know the plan as I was trying to plan my life with a baby. Further, I asked if the apartment owners would be putting us up with a place to stay...meanwhile, the water still dripped from the ceiling, bedroom carpets were soaked, water began leaking into the closet and laundry room and our stuff was everywhere.
Kim said she understood, but this was neither here nor there considering she did not have the power to make any decisions. She called, Jennifer, the property manager and daughter of the owner. Jennifer indicated through Kim that emergency carpet people were called and on their way. Kim told me this after hanging up the phone...she added that we would not be given a place to stay as "you live in a two bedroom apartment and therefore it is not warranted" as relayed to Kim by Jennifer by some unknown entity at this point. Further, Kim added, she did not know any information as to timeframes regarding cleanup.
It was time for me to lose it again apparently. I ran through the list of things that never happened regarding taking care of the mold in the apartment which I added was still in the bathroom and growing. Further, I indicated that I wanted to speak with someone who was making decisions. At that point Kim decided to call Jennifer and let her know I wanted to talk to her. Jennifer was called and the phone was given to me. Jennifer proceeded to let me know that I was wrong with regard to what she had told Susie. She indicated that she asked Susie to schedule to have certain things done. When I told Jennifer that, regardless of the fact that this was not Susie's impression after their meeting together, we had attempted on several occasions over the past 2 months to get the ball rolling by asking Kim (the only person whom we are able to reach but who wields no power and often tells us she will get back to us) only to result in more waiting and the eventual message that the baseboards would be changed in April...3 months after the initial complaint and no mention of the mold in the bathroom which Kim had looked at, as ordered to do each time we complained, with no cleanup. Jennifer had no response when I told her that this was the result of our request to schedule an appointment and that her indication that they were waiting on us to schedule a time convenient for us simply did not fit with the sequence of events. Needless to say, by this point I was pretty heated. No apology was offered for our situation and no assistance was offered for our new predicament including a crass decision that we would need to stay in the apartment even before anyone looked at the apartment.
The conversation with Jennifer went horrible throughout the phone call and, in fact, ended with her "losing the connection" which I think was actually her hanging up. I refused to leave the front office at this point as it was Wednesday at 5pm and I was not willing to chance nothing being done until the next day or whenever. I told Kim that I was sorry for her placement in the middle of all of this and she indicated she understood. After about 15 minutes, Jennifer showed up and we proceeded to get in an argument over what transpired regarding the mold issue as she acted as if the meeting with her and Susie was an aboration and indicated that the reason the carpenter was not coming to do the baseboards until April, which we did not ask them to do in the first place by the way, was due to emergencies in other apartments over the course of March. The initial complaint was made in January which she had no response to. When adding that we are trying to live with our baby and schedule our life around these things, she said that she had lived through worse situations with her baby. We went around in circles as we discussed the new issues while I tried to surmize as to when this would be taken care of and why nothing was being done to help us in the meantime. She finally indicated that she could not do anything as to this situation as it was her parents that had made the decision rather than herself. I asked her to leave and asked her to send someone who could actually make decisions.
Enter the owner. While walking Jack around the complex sometime around 7:30, two and half hours past his bedtime, after dehumidifiers were placed in our bedroom by the emergency carpet man, the owner of the complex showed up. I knew it was her as she got out of her car, a Lexus SUV, with a perma-frown glued to her face. She seemed to know it was me probably from my disheveled look and the baby I was wearing on my chest. She said, "Are you A-15?", a perfect predictor of the way I would be treated in the moments to follow. I answered that I was and she said, "Let me take care of the cat and I will be right down." Susie and I and Jack waited for her return at a picnic table as the noise in the apartment was too loud for Jack to fall asleep. Finally, she appeared and we walked up, just the two of us to the office where we began discussing the situation. I prefaced the entire discussion with, "please understand that we don't want to cause problems, in fact, we like living here...we simply want these issues addressed and to know when they will be addressed". That would be about the last civil exchange we would have.
She proceded over the next hour to tell me, "you complain too much (despite my indication that I was simply following up over the course of 3 months on the same one complaint that was never addressed in the manner we were told it would be), we will not be changing the cabinets (despite her daughters indication that they would despite our lack of request regarding this), it seems you will never be happy no matter what we do (despite my repeated indications that I would be happy if everything was done in a timely manner and the mold situation was addressed to the point of everything being cleaned up and areas of previous and current water damage being checked and monitored), you're a big boy so you'll figure it out (when I asked how we were supposed to plan our life with our baby without knowing when things would be taken care of and who to talk to...on top of her open defiance towards a commitment towards regular contact with one another until the issue was addressed). The evening with the owner ended with Susie finally asking her to leave as she attempted to tell her that she was insulting us and not being reasonable. You know it is bad when the kindest, gentlest person I know throws you out.
So that's that then! That's that! And the worst part, we like living in this place and don't want to move.
The next morning I left at around 6:30am as my big Family Fun Night was to be that evening at 6pm. Over 130 people showed up for free food, games, and fun all arranged by me. Jack and Susie came too. The day was non-stop without a break until I drove home at around 8:30pm.
On Friday night, we moved our stuff back in the bedroom as things got done relatively fast. The mold which awaited cleanup for 2 months was clean and the bathroom was painted. The carpet was dry and put back down. Meanwhile, the bedroom awaits paint and popcorn. I was forced to ask Kim to please have whomever paints to close the door to the room they paint as the house was filled with fumes for an entire day as a result of the bathroom being painted without the doors being closed or windows opened.
Yesterday, the air condition person came out while Susie and I were at work. I came home to a house that was freezing cold as the thermostat was left on 50 degrees. I asked Kim if this was on purpose in the case the air condition people were testing the unit. She laughed and said that it was not and it was a mistake and that the air conditioner was fine contrary to the owner's suggestion that she thought it was broken or something due to the lack of noticeable circulation in the bedroom. I guess I can't get in enough complaining.
Question: How should I continue to advocate to take care of my house and family without continuing to be perceived as a problem and in the process placating to those who obviously want us to disappear?
The current plan: Continue to await the rest of the work to be done as it seems to be happening relatively fast now. Then, I plan to write a letter regarding our appreciation for taking care of the matter and adding an apology for the sequence of events that resulted in the heated exchanges on the day the roof caved in.
Question: How do I write an apology letter without somehow making the owner and daughter feel justified in their inappropriate and insulting methods of dealing with this throughout?
On Wednesday afternoon, 4 days after Susie and I's first wedding anniversary and 1 day before my very stressful,yearly family event at the school I work within, our upstairs neighbors decided to end the drought in Orlando and called for torential downpours...in our bedroom!!! It went something like this:
I got home at around 3pm to Susie feeding Jack in the living room. Zip, the cat came running down the hall as I said hello to both of them, looking somewhat disheveled. Faintly, I could hear a strange sound coming from the end of the hallway. As I moved closer, I began to think the bathtub or sink was running as the sound resembled water. I said something to Susie like, "do you hear that?" She responded with something like, "What? Oh, yeah. What is it?" As I moved down the hall, I began to anticipate something bad as the sound was too loud to be a little bit of water. I said to Susie, "I don't know, but it isn't good", while turning the corner towards our bedroom. In front of me was our bed, taking a shower. Water poured from the ceiling from one side of the room to the other. Susie and I began grabbing everything and moving it out of the room as Jack layed in his crib.
I ran down to the front office, but noone was to be found. I decided to go to the apartment above us to see if anyone was there, only to find the neighbors hysterically attempting to mop their apartment not knowing where the office staff was either. They indicated that their washer had never shut off leaking all over the apartment and ours.
Like the government responding to a natural disaster, finally the apartment maintenance appeared.
Awhile back we had begun to notice mold in our apartment in the bathroom, around our windows and IN OUR BABIES CRIB! This resulted in a letter to the front office asking for immediate attention to the problem. They caulked the windows but never did any of the other things they had said they were going to do. Meanwhile, we still had mold growing in the bathroom. Needless to say, when water began pouring into our apartment, I was concerned that we may end up living with mold all around. I spoke to the office assistant, Kim, who indicated she couldn't tell me anything regarding timeframes as to when or how the cleanup of the new mess would begin. My blood boiled as I discussed the need for quick action and my need to know the plan as I was trying to plan my life with a baby. Further, I asked if the apartment owners would be putting us up with a place to stay...meanwhile, the water still dripped from the ceiling, bedroom carpets were soaked, water began leaking into the closet and laundry room and our stuff was everywhere.
Kim said she understood, but this was neither here nor there considering she did not have the power to make any decisions. She called, Jennifer, the property manager and daughter of the owner. Jennifer indicated through Kim that emergency carpet people were called and on their way. Kim told me this after hanging up the phone...she added that we would not be given a place to stay as "you live in a two bedroom apartment and therefore it is not warranted" as relayed to Kim by Jennifer by some unknown entity at this point. Further, Kim added, she did not know any information as to timeframes regarding cleanup.
It was time for me to lose it again apparently. I ran through the list of things that never happened regarding taking care of the mold in the apartment which I added was still in the bathroom and growing. Further, I indicated that I wanted to speak with someone who was making decisions. At that point Kim decided to call Jennifer and let her know I wanted to talk to her. Jennifer was called and the phone was given to me. Jennifer proceeded to let me know that I was wrong with regard to what she had told Susie. She indicated that she asked Susie to schedule to have certain things done. When I told Jennifer that, regardless of the fact that this was not Susie's impression after their meeting together, we had attempted on several occasions over the past 2 months to get the ball rolling by asking Kim (the only person whom we are able to reach but who wields no power and often tells us she will get back to us) only to result in more waiting and the eventual message that the baseboards would be changed in April...3 months after the initial complaint and no mention of the mold in the bathroom which Kim had looked at, as ordered to do each time we complained, with no cleanup. Jennifer had no response when I told her that this was the result of our request to schedule an appointment and that her indication that they were waiting on us to schedule a time convenient for us simply did not fit with the sequence of events. Needless to say, by this point I was pretty heated. No apology was offered for our situation and no assistance was offered for our new predicament including a crass decision that we would need to stay in the apartment even before anyone looked at the apartment.
The conversation with Jennifer went horrible throughout the phone call and, in fact, ended with her "losing the connection" which I think was actually her hanging up. I refused to leave the front office at this point as it was Wednesday at 5pm and I was not willing to chance nothing being done until the next day or whenever. I told Kim that I was sorry for her placement in the middle of all of this and she indicated she understood. After about 15 minutes, Jennifer showed up and we proceeded to get in an argument over what transpired regarding the mold issue as she acted as if the meeting with her and Susie was an aboration and indicated that the reason the carpenter was not coming to do the baseboards until April, which we did not ask them to do in the first place by the way, was due to emergencies in other apartments over the course of March. The initial complaint was made in January which she had no response to. When adding that we are trying to live with our baby and schedule our life around these things, she said that she had lived through worse situations with her baby. We went around in circles as we discussed the new issues while I tried to surmize as to when this would be taken care of and why nothing was being done to help us in the meantime. She finally indicated that she could not do anything as to this situation as it was her parents that had made the decision rather than herself. I asked her to leave and asked her to send someone who could actually make decisions.
Enter the owner. While walking Jack around the complex sometime around 7:30, two and half hours past his bedtime, after dehumidifiers were placed in our bedroom by the emergency carpet man, the owner of the complex showed up. I knew it was her as she got out of her car, a Lexus SUV, with a perma-frown glued to her face. She seemed to know it was me probably from my disheveled look and the baby I was wearing on my chest. She said, "Are you A-15?", a perfect predictor of the way I would be treated in the moments to follow. I answered that I was and she said, "Let me take care of the cat and I will be right down." Susie and I and Jack waited for her return at a picnic table as the noise in the apartment was too loud for Jack to fall asleep. Finally, she appeared and we walked up, just the two of us to the office where we began discussing the situation. I prefaced the entire discussion with, "please understand that we don't want to cause problems, in fact, we like living here...we simply want these issues addressed and to know when they will be addressed". That would be about the last civil exchange we would have.
She proceded over the next hour to tell me, "you complain too much (despite my indication that I was simply following up over the course of 3 months on the same one complaint that was never addressed in the manner we were told it would be), we will not be changing the cabinets (despite her daughters indication that they would despite our lack of request regarding this), it seems you will never be happy no matter what we do (despite my repeated indications that I would be happy if everything was done in a timely manner and the mold situation was addressed to the point of everything being cleaned up and areas of previous and current water damage being checked and monitored), you're a big boy so you'll figure it out (when I asked how we were supposed to plan our life with our baby without knowing when things would be taken care of and who to talk to...on top of her open defiance towards a commitment towards regular contact with one another until the issue was addressed). The evening with the owner ended with Susie finally asking her to leave as she attempted to tell her that she was insulting us and not being reasonable. You know it is bad when the kindest, gentlest person I know throws you out.
So that's that then! That's that! And the worst part, we like living in this place and don't want to move.
The next morning I left at around 6:30am as my big Family Fun Night was to be that evening at 6pm. Over 130 people showed up for free food, games, and fun all arranged by me. Jack and Susie came too. The day was non-stop without a break until I drove home at around 8:30pm.
On Friday night, we moved our stuff back in the bedroom as things got done relatively fast. The mold which awaited cleanup for 2 months was clean and the bathroom was painted. The carpet was dry and put back down. Meanwhile, the bedroom awaits paint and popcorn. I was forced to ask Kim to please have whomever paints to close the door to the room they paint as the house was filled with fumes for an entire day as a result of the bathroom being painted without the doors being closed or windows opened.
Yesterday, the air condition person came out while Susie and I were at work. I came home to a house that was freezing cold as the thermostat was left on 50 degrees. I asked Kim if this was on purpose in the case the air condition people were testing the unit. She laughed and said that it was not and it was a mistake and that the air conditioner was fine contrary to the owner's suggestion that she thought it was broken or something due to the lack of noticeable circulation in the bedroom. I guess I can't get in enough complaining.
Question: How should I continue to advocate to take care of my house and family without continuing to be perceived as a problem and in the process placating to those who obviously want us to disappear?
The current plan: Continue to await the rest of the work to be done as it seems to be happening relatively fast now. Then, I plan to write a letter regarding our appreciation for taking care of the matter and adding an apology for the sequence of events that resulted in the heated exchanges on the day the roof caved in.
Question: How do I write an apology letter without somehow making the owner and daughter feel justified in their inappropriate and insulting methods of dealing with this throughout?
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