Only anarchists are pretty...

Friday: Started drinking at 5 p.m. Ended at 1 or 2 a.m. Encore, Clark Street Ale House, Garrett Ripley's, Howl At The Moon (so awful), and The Continental. Never really ate dinner along the way. But did manage to meet a band of firemen from Ireland at Clark Street Ale House, in town for Chicago's St. Patrick's Day festivities. They (OK, I admit, 1 in particular) were responsible for my late night out. And that's all I'm going to confess about that, other than to note that I did drop him off at his hotel and go home alone, feeling a nice little ego boost that's lasted for days. ;) I will, however, provide you with some nice eye candy to let you know the, er, caliber, of a couple of the firemen we met (and yes, the 1 I got to know a bit was of this caliber as well - woot!), though these aren't actual pics of them: The Dublin Fire Brigade Calendar.

Saturday: Finally saw Watchmen, and was mostly pleased with it. It really was well done visually, and very well cast for the most part. I'll be getting the DVD when it comes out. Later on, I saw The Lost Shakespeare Play, which a friend of mine is in. It was quite funny and well-acted, and I highly recommend it. It closes this weekend, so check it out. From there we stopped at Skylark, then I went to Kinetic Playground for Wax Trax night.

Sunday: Much needed day of rest. Finished Galway Bay, which I recommend for a nice, historic, epic yarn. Reminds me a bit in style of The Tea Rose, another book I love.

Been battling the insomnia monster the last couple of nights. Sleepless in Chicago, that's me. Not helping is the fact that Idiotboy upstairs has been extra noisy this week, especially last night, when he had a bunch of friends over till about 11. The stereo noise was annoying enough, but the tremendous crash at about 10:40 was reminiscent of L's stabby days. I nearly called the police at that point (after all, the last time I heard something like that from the apartment above, great bodily harm had just been inflicted), but settled for yelling what the fuck at top volume. Things quieted after that, mostly.

Adding this to my running list of things I won't miss about living in Chicago (yes, I know noisy neighbors exist everywhere, but I hope to find a nice, quiet space in GR), and especially in my at times rowdy neighborhood.

Commence bitchfest:

The thunderstorms that rolled through last night were cool, don't get me wrong, but I don't appreciate still being without power today. It's been about 16 hours now. So I slept like hell (i.e., almost not at all) last night, due to no AC, no fans, and no noise whatsoever (I'm a white noise person - it was nothing short of eerily silent in my neighborhood last night). Still no power when I got up this morning, which made getting ready for work loads of fun (especially as I have no windows in my bathroom, necessitating that I apply makeup in the living room with a hand mirror). When I finally made it to work, I called ComEd to see when service might be restored, but the automated system apparently doesn't recognize the area of my home phone number (never mind that we've lived in our current apartment for nearly 4 years), so I couldn't get any updates. All the local news stories are saying it may be several days before power is restored to the over 200,000 customers without it. Way to go, ComEd!

The city that wants to host the Olympics can't even deal with a fucking summer storm without everything coming apart at the seams for an extended period of time. Classic.

Updated to add: After roughly 18 hours of blackout, power was restored as of 1:15 p.m. Phew!

...neighbors: I swear, the dude upstairs was on a coke or crystal binge this weekend. I don't know that he slept once. And J talked to one of our neighbors across the hall yesterday, and she said the dude upstairs from us woke her up at 5:30 or so Sunday morning, being loud on his deck. Ah, communal living. It's weird, the guy's sister is supposed to move in with him, but hasn't yet, and he's been in the apartment 2 months. What the hell? I mean, so expensive. I'm hoping she does move in soon, and tempers his bachelor living ways. We'll see.

...weather: The humidity is so disgusting right now. It's supposed to cool off a bit Wednesday, but today + tomorrow = sticky mess.

...travel: I'll be in GR this weekend. I should get in late Friday night, and be around till Sunday or Monday. Alas, I don't know if I'll be able to see many people, since I'll be at a wedding (again) all day/evening on Saturday. But I'll try to hit up the Al & The Black Cats gig at Louie's on Saturday night after the wedding reception.

Things I had no intention of doing tonight:

-Staying up super late.

-Dealing with neighbors.

I tried to head to bed around midnight. Felt myself almost dropping off (damn my insomnia)...until 1 a.m., when the fella upstairs came home with some friends. Damn. Still, I wasn't going to bitch, at least not right away. It's Friday night, people are entitled to some late night noise, moreso than during the week. So I got back up. Watched a little more brainless TV. Until a bit after 2, when I was so tired, yet so unable to sleep because of the constant bass coming from upstairs. So, with a sigh, I slipped on shoes, went up, and knocked on the door. I figured it would be no big deal, since I've already talked to the new guy once, let him know that we can hear absolutely everything, and he was very cool and thanked me for being so nice. Not so this time, however. I knocked on the door, and the volume immediately went down. But no one answered. I could hear guys talking, but still no one came to the door. I thought it would be rude (!) to just leave, so I knocked again, intended to apologize for bothering them, but just ask that they keep it down a bit. Still no answer, still obviously guys in there. So I'm standing there, wondering what the polite thing is to do, when I hear a guy (I think my neighbor, I don't really know his voice) say, "Is she gone yet?"

Wow. I had to laugh at the stupidity (honestly, the door is made of wood and doesn't have much to seal it, did you really think I couldn't hear you, genius?), and then I came back downstairs.

Really? "Is she gone yet?" I figure they were smoking a little reefer (that's my favorite marijuana slang term, I've decided), which would account for both the rudeness and the paranoia. I could so fuck with this guy now, slipping a note a day under his door reading is she gone yet? and then denying any knowledge if he confronted me. Oh, so tempting.

Anyway, I guess I won't be too worried about rudeness anymore, since I clearly live under someone who's fairly rude himself. And yeah, it kind of sounds like he's turned the volume back up now. Nice.

And people wonder why I talk about moving back home, buying a house, etc. If I never have another upstairs neighbor again, it will be too soon.

Man attempts robbery with cheese grater. I kind of live for stories like this.

Chicago bargoers are already familiar with these folks, but for the rest of you, I thought you might be interested in reading about the tamale guy and the muffin lady, both staples at many Chicago bars. You can still catch a tamale guy most nights out, but the muffin lady, sadly, doesn't peddle her special muffins anymore (I don't think). Having tried some of her "not straight" baked goods, I can tell you that's a shame. (I don't have the energy here for a rant against stupid drug laws, but I expect you can put one together yourself.)

L is scheduled to get out of jail today on parole. Please join me in hoping and praying that he leaves all of us in the building alone, and concentrates on his family (which he should have been doing all along, and which would have saved him all this fucking trouble).

There are things in life I do which I know are futile, yet I do them because I have to do something, and taking the futile action makes me feel better than doing nothing at all.

I took such an action recently when I sent the following letter:

[Artemis]
[Address]
[Phone Number]
[Email]

April 16, 2008

Chicago Transit Authority
901 W. Division
Chicago, IL 60622-9707

RE: Chicago Card and Transit Card failure

To Whom It May Concern:

Enclosed are one Chicago Card and two Transit Cards, all of which simply quit working. The Chicago Card has roughly $6+ on it, and each Transit Card has roughly $20 on it.

I realize that since I didn’t register my Chicago Card (Serial Number _________ ___), I cannot get a replacement. I would, however, like an explanation as to why it suddenly stopped working, as well as an explanation as to why the Transit Cards also suddenly stopped working (they read ”invalid” when I try to use them on busses, and “Code 15” on CTA machines and train turnstiles).

I would also appreciate a refund of the money that I loaded on the cards, which comes to almost $50.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Sincerely,

[Artemis]

I didn't expect anything to come of it (like the CTA cares about me), I just wanted to do something. So I sent out a letter, bought another new CTA card, and pretty much forgot about it.

Until yesterday. When I arrived home, checked the mail, and saw an envelope from the CTA. An envelope which turned out to contain a check for $44.25. (Ha! They CAN figure out how much money is left on invalid cards!) There was no letter. No "memo" on the check. Just the check itself.

The moral of the story? If you think it won't do any good to bitch, bitch anyway. You'll feel better, and it just may do some good.

Finally, a footnote to this small victory: Turns out it was at least partly my own damned fault the cards went wonky. After I'd sent in the letter, a new friend noticed my cell phone, a Motorola Pebl. She was surprised I had one (and a little jealous, as she wanted one), since she said they'd stopped selling them. Why did they stop selling them? Apparently, they demagnetize things like credit cards, and, I realized sheepishly as she told me about it, CTA cards. My phone and my CTA card used to be in the same pocket of my bag (no more, I can tell you). Oops. I still figure I was owed the money, though, as I did return the cards with the balances on them, and I had fed the money into the CTA system.

You never know what you'll find when you catch a cab in Chicago. Your cabbie may be talkative, wanting to know how your day/night is going, and conversing from there. Your cabbie may be totally silent, not even responding to your destination request or thanking you for his or her tip. Your cabbie may blare classic rock, techno, NPR, ethnic music from far destinations, or Christian radio.

Often the most telling things in a cab, however, are the things with which the cabbie decorates his or her workspace. Like this morning, when I hopped in a cab to go to work (running late again), and saw a worn bumper sticker on the dash reading:
SATAN GET LOST
THIS IS
HOLY GHOST ARENA
I'm sure Satan and his or her minions are totally scared off by such a bumper sticker. (A quick Google search reveals that Holy Ghost Arena is located in Nigeria, at a church camp of some sort.)

That still doesn't top my favorite little telling detail in a cab, though. That's the time I glanced at the cab company name on the cab license, only to have to try to keep from giggling. The name?
SWEET JESUS TAXI CO.

This morning, J and I made the recent events in L's family into a story problem. See if you can solve it.

L and L's wife have crack and/or crystal habits, which are paid for by L's wife. When L goes to jail for theft and fraud, how long will it take for L's wife to raise the money for movers and creepy back deck peace offerings, now that she only has her own habit to support?

( Answer )

Have a good weekend, all.

Tonight, J went out on the back deck, and found this:



With a card:







Yes, it was from L's wife. Note that she signed it from her, and her 2 kids. No mention of L whatsoever.

Note also that it was put out there today, even though they moved out Sunday. Ugh.

Oh, today is a blessed, blessed day. J and I are sitting here, on the couch, listening to the distinct lack of running feet, dropped/thrown toys, moving furniture, screaming kids, pickle stabbings, tweaked-out wandering, and any other random sounds. We are watching television without background noise. We are starting, though it will take some time to get back to normal, to feel something that's been elusive to us in the past year: relaxation.

We give thanks to any and all higher powers who had a hand in helping us out and making this day possible. We are profundly grateful. And what, you may wonder, are we profoundly grateful for?

L's family moved out today!

In exactly 1 week, my dear friends, L's family will have vacated the premises upstairs. I cannot tell you what a joy that is to me. Of course, this last week will likely be, how shall I put it, challenging, in terms of noise and who knows what else, but I have to hope it will all be worth it in the end. And I also send a little hope/prayer out there into the void for: 1) decent neighbors to move in, and 2) for L to leave us all alone when he gets out of jail. That shouldn't be too much to ask for, Universe.

OMG, you guys. Ambre won ROL2 last night. !!! ;)

A bunch of us got together to watch the finale last night at a bar, Ambre included. Now, here's the thing about these reality shows: the contestants are seeing the episodes for the first time along with the audience. So Ambre was watching last night knowing the outcome, but not knowing what was going to be on the show. There was a lot of shrieking and yelling and covering of eyes, and not a few tears.

But the real fun came after, when we headed to a bar down the street from where we'd watched, a bar that happened to be full (unbeknownst to us) of DePaul undergrads. DePaul undergrads who were fans of the show, and who started shrieking and fawning over Ambre (and Adam - her friend (and mine, actually the reason I know Ambre) who was on one episode of the show) almost as soon as we sat down. It was cute, and weird, and really, really surreal. Kind of perfect for the end of a reality show, though.

For those who are wondering, we can now say that Ambre and Bret are dating, and Ambre told me she is happy. And her happiness is, I think, the best hoped-for outcome of this whole circus.

Also, the Bret's Brew that they drink at the end of each show is crap beer. I know everyone was as concerned as I was to know that, so I asked, and now you can all thank me.

In closing, I've got to say that I'm pretty glad that, after watching the reunion show this weekend (which looks to be all Springer-like), I never have to watch Rock of Love again.

In case anyone was wondering, things at home have been pretty much noisy as usual. We're basically just putting up with it until L's family moves out. (May 1! Wahoo!) This week was particularly bad a couple of nights, though. Both Monday and Wednesday night, the kid was up and people were stomping around until around 3 a.m. Both nights I ended up getting up just before 3 (to see if I could figure out what the fuck was going on by listening), and saw 2 people coming down from the upstairs apartment through our peephole. After Monday, I thought L's wife was just partying up there, but after Wednesday, I figured out that she was working again, and the stompers were her babysitters. Great, more people to deal with.

Last night there was a huge crash above our heads at about 10:30 p.m. J, who'd only just come home from work, put his shoes right back on and went upstairs to speak with L's wife. I, of course, listened from our doorway. After he identified himself, she launched into an apology for the crash, saying the kid had just thrown a truck or something on the floor. J said, you know, fair enough, but this is every night, sometimes till 2 and 3 in the morning. She then confirmed my suspicion that the late night noise was from the babysitters. She said that she has no control over what they do when she's not here, and that she was as shocked as we were to find the kid up at 3 a.m. when she got home Wednesday night. She sounded overwhelmed, and noted that she's all alone, etc. J was perfectly nice, polite and understanding, yet firm. She also said a couple of times that they were moving out May 1, and then would be out of our hair, and apologized a few times.

You know, I do feel for this woman. She has made bad choice after bad choice (and of course she's responsible for her own choices, but still, I have sympathy), and is living with the consequences, probably as best she can. I just can't help but wonder what has driven her to this point. I mean, she married L after he was charged for theft and fraud. Also after her parents had visited, and (we think) after they wanted to take her and the kid(s) back to Ireland. So what is so bad about her home, her family, that marrying L looked good in comparison? I hate to see a woman trapped in a situation as desperate as hers seems.

But...I still want these people gone, and out of my life entirely. And J and I are counting the days till that point.

Rather a let down to be back in the office after a long holiday weekend. And very difficult to get out of bed this morning. At least the sun is shining (though the weather forecast for the rest of the week looks bleak).

In case it's not obvious, I fucking love street preachers and messengers. Here's another street preacher story for the ages: Thursday I was walking along State Street on my way to pick something up from Macy's before I headed to GR for the weekend. As I walked past Old Navy, I had to pass the Old Navy preacher, as usual. And as usual, he was ranting against people who smoke (whether it be regular cigarettes or "reefer", no smokers are getting into heaven, according to this guy). But I found it really hard not to laugh in his face that day, as he came out with this gem as I was walking by: "All you people who smoke weed and cigarettes...WHY DO YOU HATE JESUS!?!?"

On the one hand I'm glad it's the weekend, so I can focus on some of my own stuff in my life instead of work stuff. On the other, well, being home is hardly peaceful these days. (For those wondering, L's family was up till about 12:30 or 1 a.m. last night. Yes, the toddler, too. Sad, isn't it?) But I've said all there is to say about my awful neighbors, and I'm going to do my best not to waste any more time or energy on them.

At any rate, my hope for this weekend (which is my hope for most weekends) is that I work in earnest on my family archive project, perhaps get some (gasp!) writing done, and sort out some of the mental detritus that's been floating round my head in recent weeks. I've been distracted of late, and I don't see that changing, as the things distracting me are mostly beyond my control. I need to sort it out in my head, put things in boxes, that sort of thing. Alas, I don't want to be more specific. Suffice it to say that if you've ever looked at me and wondered what was going on beyond the laughing eyes and easy smile, the answer is: quite a lot. My head spins on a different level than the rest of me, most of the time.

At any rate, it is the weekend, so I hope you lot have a lovely one. As for me, I'm off for some needed time alone.

Last night was another night of noise and lack of sleep, so I went ahead and emailed the landlord at about 11:15 p.m., much good it will do.

( Whining to the landlord )

It's likely to do no good whatsoever (I suspect if we get any response at all, it will be Landlord telling us that he's not renewing their lease and they'll be out in May), but the lawyer in me just has to make a record of my complaints.

Updated to add:

Here's my response from Landlord: "I will call [L's wife] and speak with her. We will not be renewing there lease come May 1st." I replied: "Thank you." We'll see what happens, eh? ("there" lease - gah!)

I came in to work this afternoon instead of this morning, after a night of sleeping very poorly due to my cracked out jackasses of upstairs neighbors. You may think that since L has been cooling his heels in the state pen, things have improved at Chez Artemis. You'd be correct in terms of fearing for my life and property, but incorrect in terms of home being peaceful again. L's wife is just as fucked up in terms of sleep habits, banging around at all hours, and tweaking on God-knows-what illegal substances much of the time. Last night there was mad stomping around and moving of things until about 12:30 or 1 a.m. A bang on the ceiling with the broomstick did nothing to make the noise abate. Finally things quieted, and I was able to sleep, only to be awakened at about 3:30 a.m. to someone stomping around above my head. So, having had very little sleep, I decided to stay home this morning to catch a couple hours extra, lest I be completely useless all day at work. For those who think I should have 1) gone up and tried to talk to L's wife and whoever the hell was up there with her, 2) complained to the landlord, and/or 3) called the police, let me tell you that 1) I don't want to confront someone drugged up on whatthefuckever in the middle of the night, and I don't think it would do the slightest good anyway, as L's family clearly does not give a flying fuck about their neighbors, 2) the landlord has shown time and time again that he will do nothing to help, so there's no point in complaining to him, and 3) the police can do little more than come down, tell the neighbors to quiet down, and then leave, thereby leaving me open to the noise starting right back up again and whatever retaliation might occur.

So I'm left with counting the days until May 1, when L's brood will have vacated the apartment. Can't come soon enough. End whining.

OK, we're up to 1998 in my little year-in-music (at least in terms of what I have on the work computer) experiment:

-Air - Sexy Boy (what a great single)
-Blowtops - Deep Thrust (1 song)
-Butterfly Child - Soft Explosives (my favorite Butterfly Child disc)
-The Cramps - Songs The Lord Taught Us (1 song)
-Elliott Smith - XO (my first Elliott Smith disc)
-The Ghastly Ones - A Haunting We Will Go-Go (1 song)
-Hooverphonic - Blue Wonder Power Milk
-Jeff Buckley - Sketches For My Sweetheart The Drunk (released posthumously, alas)
-KMFDM - Agogo
-Massive Attack - Mezzanine (I hate that big bug thing on the cover)
-Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - The Best of Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds (can't go wrong with this collection)
-Nina Simone - The Very Best of Nina Simone: Sugar In My Bowl 1967-1972 (my first Nina collection, starting a new obsession for me)
-Blade - Original Soundtrack (I love the dance mixes on this)
-Velvet Goldmine - Original Soundtrack (a great rock and roll film, period)
-Smashing Pumpkins - Adore (my favorite Pumpkins album...and nearly no one else's)
-Tones on Tail - Everything! (try and sit still during Go! - I bet you can't)