2003-09-29 - 11:46 a.m.

I've written here before about my horrid downstairs neighbors, right? Oh yes, here is where it all began. Before that party, I had no problem whatsoever with these morons. Maybe I was much quieter when I didn't have a boyfriend over on the weekends (okay, this is true but we're still not loud at all). That could be it, but I suspect that this woman's "new" boyfriend (I think they're actually married now) is the main problem. He doesn't seem to like when I 1. Walk on the tiled kitchen floor (evidenced by the banging on the ceiling) 2. Express my affection for C in a physical manner in bed (more ceiling banging and once a 1:00 a.m. phone call complete with hang up when C answered) 3. Play music, no matter how softly (phone calls, buzzer ringing, etc.) 4. Have C's kids over (phone call) or 5. Park in my deeded parking spot, to name a few. They don't seem to have a problem blasting the stereo, TV or whatever and I've never called them once to complain. I might get annoyed but I try to just rise above it.

Remember I got a new car 2 months ago? Well, each unit owns one spot and there are plenty of guest spots. I always park in my spot and even though I have an SUV, manage to stay within the lines. The spots aren't all that narrow or difficult to park in, by the way. Well, for months and months now the woman (I call her "The Bitch") has been parking in the guest spots along the side of the building. She has an SUV that she got last fall. Her boyfriend, AKA "The Redneck," who drives a rather large pickup truck, also parks over there. I notice that at least one of them takes up a space and a half on any given day, never able to stay within the lines. This never bothered me because they weren't parked near my car (other than to comment about how fucking stupid they are). Suddenly, The Bitch decides to park in her deeded spot, which is next to mine. This is now causing a problem. She usually parks on the line or even over the line into my spot, whether I am there first or she is. I just can't figure out if she is just that much of a bad driver or if she's doing it to get my goat. I truly suspect the latter. If she's that bad of a driver, she shouldn't drive a big honkin' SUV.

(The reason why I suspect that she's busting my balls is that last winter, during one of our many snowstorms, C stayed over the night before. We took his car (he had to shovel the front stairs, a path, and his car out since the plow/shoveler had not yet arrived) to the train station and went to our respective workplaces. When he got out of work before me, he went back to my place to shovel my car out for me, unbeknownst to me. While he was there, carefully walking the full shovels over to the park across the street since the snowdrifts and plowed piles were already sky-high, The Redneck came out and stood in front of the two cars (mine and hers) staring. C looked up and saw him there and pleasantly and apologetically told him he'd move his car right away (he'd sort of blocked her and my car in, parking behind us, since no spaces were plowed and someone had already scoffed his shoveled out spot from that morning), assuming the guy needed to leave. The guy replied, "No. I want you to stop hitting my car." C told him he wasn't hitting it, unsure if he meant that C was hitting it with the shovel or hitting it with snow. The guy just puffed up his chest and kept saying over and over that C was hitting his car (it wasn't his, it was his girlfriend's, the Bitch who owns the condo). C finally resumed shoveling, shaking his head after denying it several times.)

When I got home Saturday afternoon, with C right behind me in his own car, I pulled in to see her parked over the line, with tons of room on her driver's side. You guys know by now that how passive-aggressive I am. So, I parked as close to her as possible, while still staying well within my space. As I was trying to unload my groceries (I know, I screwed myself by parking so close to her), C pulled up and asked out of his window, "What the fuck?" to which I replied, "I know, she's a moron." I secretly hoped that they could hear us through their open windows. Both cars stayed there all night (those two never go out and C and I took his car to the show we went to) and she moved her car to the guest spots again yesterday, where it stayed all day and night. When I drove to the train station this morning, my driver's side-view mirror was askew. I swear, if she touched it, there's gonna be a war (not that I could prove it). I managed to re-adjust it properly so who knows what happened. Wait until C hears about this.

This is no way to live, I don't know how much more I can take. C and I really need to get engaged so we can buy a house and get the fuck outta there. We're gonna have a big loud party right before we leave, though.

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