Sorry

I apologize for the lack of posts as of late! I know I am long overdue and I really hate to disappoint my loyal fanbase of 6 weekly readers. Some excuses I have include:

- we no longer have internet at home
- some personal life developments which made things extra hectic around here
- a mass email I received from management reminding us about what constitutes improper internet usage while at work, which I immediately took to be directed at me, and
- I forgot the password to this account.

As I am at work right now and am having a mild panic attack from being on an "inappropriate non-work related website," this post will be a collection of pictures that I don't have enough time to fully explain. You will get the gist though.

Exciting Developments

Exciting Development #1:
This week, as I was returning home from work, I pulled onto our street and noticed that there was some trailer-trash looking crap along the road. In our pristine little yuppy neighborhood, my 4-year-old hatchback with minor dents and scratches is probably considered an eyesore when I park it on the street. So when I saw this fascinating display of disgusting furniture propped up against the tree in front of my house, I could just feel the disapproving eyes glaring out at me from the nearby houses as I pulled into our driveway. They were all probably thinking, there's that tacky girl with her ugly and soiled trash bringing down the value of our homes. And rightfully so:

Laundry Problems

You guys, the coffee table is still there. Every time I back out of the driveway, I want to run it over. It's been prematurely aggravating my road rage for 5 weeks now. Sorry, neighborhood. Our landlord stopped by earlier this week to check into a theory I had about something else and as he saw the coffee table, he asked, "Is that yours?" I just looked at him and didn't say anything. He then replied, "Point taken."

Back to my theory. I had noticed that for about 4-5 months now, our electricity bill has been out of control. Upwards of $80 a month (on average) for about 1,500 square feet of apartment where two people live. We had been paying less in the summer when we were blasting window AC units and fans every day! I was convinced something was up, so I called the power company and the landlord to inquire. The power company suggested I perform a breaker test, to which I responded, "Of course! That is a great idea. Why didn't I think of that!" Then I asked, "What is a breaker test?" Apparently, you go to your fuse box and switch all of those thingies to the "off" position. Those thingies are called breakers by the way, hence the breaker test. Then you go make sure that your electric meter stops spinning. Next, you turn each thingy ("breaker") back on slowly, one at a time, and watch the meter so that you can isolate what part of the house is using the most electricity. While this may sound quite simple in theory, I would like to report that practically, it is very difficult. Especially since the electric meter is outside and your fuse box is in the basement. And especially when you mistake the water meter for the electric meter and you are convinced that every time you turn the hot water on, your electricity usage skyrockets. Long story short, I have much to learn about how electricity and water works. I did watch a useful youtube video that teaches you how to read your electricity meter and I did learn the word "breaker" so that is 2 points, at least.

The Coffee Table

I apologize in advance for the whininess of this post.

The people downstairs have placed a really ugly, broken coffee table out back behind our house by the trash bins. The wooden frame is propped up against the side of the house and its orangey-hued glass pane counterpart is perilously leaned up against the broken frame. Every time I go throw something away, I am afraid that lifting the lid of the trash bin will cause a domino effect, wherein the entire coffee table and its glass pane will topple and shatter into bits, impaling me with orange glass shards. I think their intent was to take the table to the curb along with the trash bins on trash day. However, if this was their initial intent, they have had a change of heart because the thing is still sitting there, nearly a month later. The fourth trash pickup since the emergence of the broken table was yesterday morning and -- what a surprise! -- they had rolled the garbage bins out to the curb but left the coffee table behind. wtf!

Welcome Home

Our dog is a 55-lb sack of potatoes who will voluntarily get up from her spot only under one of three conditions: 1) there is a more comfortable spot nearby; 2) someone said the word "treat"; or 3) loud noises. Her life is what I hope to be rich enough to have one day. It is usually considered an accomplishment when I can get her to walk all the way around the block in under 20 minutes. You know the old guy with the cane slowly crossing the street as you wait at a light to take a left turn? The guy that is going so unbearably slow that the oncoming traffic is about to close on your chance to turn? The guy that drops all his bags midway into the intersection and has to bend over to pick up everything up? Well, that guy passed us on the sidewalk. The point of this little tangent is so that I can talk about my dog. Also, it gives you some context for this next story. In her every day life, one extra foot of movement is like the end of the world to our dog. But if there's poop involved, she would walk 3 miles out of the way to avoid it. We'll be walking along on the sidewalk (racing an ant carrying a crumb 20 times it's weight) and if we come upon any unbagged dog crap, this is the route that I will be forced to take because our dog refuses to step over or step to the side of some other dog's poop:

This one time.

This one time, I was down in the laundry room, um... doing some laundry.  I went to move a pile of their dirty and ever-present clothes from the table to make space for my sorting routine and I realized after I had scooped the whole pile up in my arms, that they were all wet. Then I realized one of the items - the one closest to my face- was a pair of Guy’s underwear!!!! Oh my god, the trauma.

The Follow-Up Garage Post

If you haven't already, read this post first.

I can't quite decide which makes me more upset: the fact that I have once again underestimated Guy's ability to be a complete and utter tool or the fact that I now have minor car damage thanks to his latest move. I probably brought it on myself for mocking him and discussing my anticipation of what moronic thing he'd come up with next. Well, he sure showed me.

Let's back up to Tuesday evening. The impending "snowpocalypse" that everyone was freaking out about arrived with a resounding "psych!" I will sum up what actually happened: pathetic little rain shower followed by a few hours of snow, which immediately melted. Then everybody collectively agreed to drive like a bunch of idiots.

We arrived home on Tuesday evening in a great mood after enjoying an all-you-can-eat meat buffet with some friends. I realize how that sounds, but I am purposely leaving that sentence in because it was a real thing and not some metaphor for an inappropriate activity. As we pulled into the garage, we noticed that Guy has miraculously fit his car into his garage spot and even got the garage door on their side to close! We were stunned and slightly impressed, and excited to get out and inspect his work. Then there was a loud crunching sound. BF says, "Stop the car!" We get out and look to see what it is that I have run over and it all becomes clear. Guy has made his car fit into the garage by taking their gazelle/elliptical workout machine and placing it into our parking space. I think he was trying to place it in the center aisle that separates our two spaces, but because there is already so much of their crap there, it didn't quite fit and jutted into our space.