Oh, bother, spit, and vexation.

I haven't decided what to do (other than move, eventually), but have I told you lately that I HATE my neighbor...? Yeah, and I'm on interesting medication, even.

She seems to be having some sort of family reunion/office waiting room area outside my frickin' KITCHEN. She has Astroturf and a coffee table and windchimes and plastic chairs and an ashtray (they smoke, which comes into my apt., because she doesn't want that smell in hers, natch), a HUGE silk ficus and even a damn Kleenex box and sometimes trash out there...I don't know who died and told her she could take over the balcony. This shit is in front of MY windows. There are people talking and clucking to my kitties and peering into my apartment at all hours of the day; a guy with one of those annoying tweeter-phones (WHY do people have those damned chirping phones?! So we all have to know how popular they are?!) was pacing up and down outside my BATHROOM this a.m. while I was trying to have a private function.

There is a whole parade of these thug-like types. I hate them but am afraid to complain lest they retaliate about the # of my kitties, but maybe if they STOPPED WALKING INCESSANTLY OUTSIDE MY APT. (do they EVER use the front door?) they wouldn't even know that; I'd black out my windows, but I like the light; Jesus Christ.

This morning there was a guy there when I was trying to change out of my bathrobe, though it'd serve them RIGHT to see the horror of me naked. Plus HOW MANY FUCKING PEOPLE are living there, anyway?! They are loud and obnoxious, there all the time, and THEY NEVER SHUT UP. I have zero privacy, and it is seriously interfering with my right to quiet enjoyment of the place...

Is she running a business from her damn back do' or what?!

This crack 'ho makes me wistful for my old neighbors, Stampy and Slammy. Or Chucky and F*cky, the militant lesbians. Or even the dead guy. Now HE was considerate.

Except for the smell.