Seriously, FML Part II

Surprisingly enough, everything everywhere continues to be a festering cesspool of shit. Imagine my surprise.

This blog entry is a continuation of my recent blog entry, Seriously, FML. This one probably won’t make a hell of a lot of sense if you haven’t read that one.

I was right – the neighbor DID run her portly little tattle-tale ass right to my landlord with the letter that I left in her mailbox. Like, that doesn’t even make any fucking sense! I am telling you, the rampant pesticide use in this town is making the people around here some kind of extra-stupid. What line of logic leads to “I have been asked to stop violating a city code and making disabled and elderly people sick! This will not do! I must go run and do a narky-tattle to this angry person’s landlord!” I mean… how does somebody even arrive at such an asinine conclusion? How?!! I’m telling you, the people around here prove again and again and again that they really are some kind of special-in-the-head.

And the landlord? Did he do the reasonable thing, which would be to say “woman, why are you bothering me with this? Your dispute is with my tenant. Not with me. So maybe… flake off, leave me alone and try speaking to my tenant, you know, the person with whom you actually have the dispute?”

Did he do that?

Well, no, of course he didn’t. That would have required logic, normalcy and reason. You know, those things that don’t seem to exist within the residents of this town.

Instead he called me, all pissed off, saying that “I didn’t have a leg to stand on” (uh – yes I do – it’s called THE LAW) and that “he doesn’t believe in stuff on the internet” (when I told him I had researched the issue online for a couple of hours before composing my letter to her) and that “maybe I should start looking for another place to live” (unacceptable! How dare he?!) You would think that he would side with his tenant, who has been giving him money every month for 7+ years. You would think that he might be concerned about the walls of his rental unit being made sticky, tacky to the touch and stained from the repetitive smoke clouds billowing into our unit. But again, these are conclusions derived from a logical thought process, so of course that is not whats happening here. Of course I insisted that I had done nothing wrong, I was within my legal rights in all of my actions taken, and that I was not going to sit idly by and have myself and my grandmother be randomly poisoned, nor, per the law, should we be required to live all stuffed up in here, with our windows closed all summer, because I have no way of knowing when that idiot or her tenants are going to fire up their grills. We don’t know those people – we are not monitoring their lives nor their activities, therefore we have no way of knowing when they are going to grill until our apartment is already full of their toxic, carcinogenic smoke.

Unacceptable.

When I insisted to him that I was not in violation of any laws or codes, but she – the neighbor – was, and that I was completely within my rights by law, and that I had every right to try to protect my health and that of my 90 year old grandmother, inside of our home no less, he told me that “if I was going to insist upon making an issue of this, I had better damn well make sure that I was right”.

So, since the police officer I had spoken to suggested that I go to the code enforcement office, and Mr. Landlordman told me that “I had better damn well make sure I was right” – so that’s what I did. I called the code enforcement office and I told the code enforcement officer about the whole miserable, stupid asinine situation, and I explained to him that the only reason I did not call the cops either of the two times that she fired up her grill right underneath our window last weekend (as the cops themselves had advised me to do!) was because I felt covertly menaced by my landlord, who had suggested that I didn’t have a leg to stand on, and that maybe I should move, and that I had better make sure that I was right if I was going to press the issue”.

Many hours later –

I am just about to lose patience with this. Since I wrote the above, I have spoke to the landlord, the police, and the neighbor herself. The landlord called all pissed off because the code enforcement officer called him (which I did not ask or authorize him to do).  The code enforcement officer told me that he would talk to the neighbor, but he didn’t say a damn thing about talking to my landlord. God damn it! This after the landlord was already pissed off that the damned neighbor had involved him in the situation!

He told me that the code officer had told him that there were no codes to support me – so… why the fuck did he tell me yesterday that he found one that could? And when I asked him about another he agreed that yes, that one could apply as well. The codes were about nuisance and health hazards to others, including smoke. He also told me that he would talk to her. He didn’t say a word about talking to my landlord. Wtf.

The landlord told me that himself and the neighbor had also talked to the local police about the issue and they were told that she could grill anywhere on her property that she pleased.  I called the police station on two different occasions. The first time I got the young officer who  had told me that the law was on my side and that they would send n officer over if I had to call them again about her grilling right outside our window, if she would not cease when asked. He again insisted that I was right and that they would send somebody over if I had to call them again about it.

The landlord said “well Officer (redacted) is very young, he’s only been on the force for two years. I think you need to speak to someone higher up who knows what they are talking about.” So, I called the department again and spoke to another officer, and explained to him that per my landlord’s advice, I would like to speak to somebody “higher up” who could explain why I was being given information by their department that conflicted with what my landlord and neighbor were allegedly being told, and which information was in fact correct. The guy asked to put me on hold, and then he fucking  – get this – I told you this town was full of assholes and idiots – he fucking connected me to the young officer!

Like, uh, DUH. That was just the first asinine demonstration. Which part of “patch me through to somebody higher up who can answer my questions” translates directly to “patch me through to the young officer”?! I mean the sheer volume of asinine going on here is colossal.

Somehow, it gets even larger.

When I tried to explain to the young officer what was going on, and that I was trying to figure out why I was being given information that conflicted with the information that my neighbor and landlord both alleged to have received. Interestingly even though I asked both the neighbor and the landlord exactly WHAT officer they spoke to, they both balked and avoided the question.  Imagine that?

The young officer asked me if they were grilling under our window right at that moment and I explained for the second fucking time that no, this wasn’t about that right now, it was about trying to find out why my landlord and neighbor alleged that they were given conflicting info. by the Dept. and which information was correct?

The young officer got shitty, completely failed to answer my question, and told me not to call again unless she had the fucking grill going on under our window.

Like… what the fuck? Does that whole scene qualify as some sort of obstruction of justice? I can’t even get a simple goddamned reasonable question answered?! And more, the fucking code officer is flip-flopping on the shit he told me yesterday and allegedly telling my landlord that “upon having viewed the properties he can see that there is nowhere else for the grill to go”. Uh – I cry fucking bullshit – there are two other sides of her house where that goddamned thing could go! (The third abuts a sidewalk). Or, she could even just roll the goddamn thing 15 – 20 feet down her goddamned driveway where the smoke would pour up the corridor of the street as opposed to right in our fucking windows!  Oh but no – she can’t be inconvenienced to park her car a few feet further back and roll the fucking thing down the driveway… no, of course not!  But she can inconvenience us with smoke pouring into our apartment.

The landlord – ugh – he said twice, “Well, she owns that property, so…”

So… So what? So that buys her the right to be a selfish fucking bitch?

In this town, the answer to that question is very much “yes”.

I have known since I was about 7 or 8 years old that this region is seemingly afflicted by a mass mental illness. This is a grand chunk of why I never wanted to come back here, and the fact that I once errantly said so was a contributing factor to my Grandmother giving my inheritance away. Or so says she. FML.

I know what’s going on here. This lot of assholes are homeowners in town, and officials in town, and they grew up and went to High School in this shitting, miserable town, and these small towns are always absurdly close-knit, like something you’d read about in a Stephen King novel. However, Castle Rock, Derry and Jerusalem’s Lot don’t have a thing on this town. Not even Little Tall Island compares. It’s always been this way, and it always will. You’re in or you’re out (we’ve always been out) and sometimes people can live here for 20+ years and still be “those new people”. I got out of here for 30 years and when I come back, the phone books are filled with the same last names, and these houses are still filled with those same people and/or the spawn of those people. When I was frigging around on Ancestry.com (and in two local cemeteries) I saw that many of these local family names go back for centuries. This is a town with a Moose Lodge and an Elk Lodge and probably another Lodge for the IOOOA (International Order of Old Assholes). There’s not enough restaurants – not a single 24 hour one – and way too many churches and bars. It used to be a dying railroad town but now it’s just a dead railroad town.  the nearest Starbucks, I shit you not, is 75 miles away. It’s like that around here. Uber and Lyft are a brand-new thing around here and 5 drivers pretty much have the town covered – that’s what it’s like around here. I hate it.  😦

I could take the mess to court and make everybody hate me –oop! to late for that! They already hate me. I fear that the landlord will soon find an excuse to raise our rent and once my grandmother is gone I am certain he will find a way to put me in the ejection seat.

I had my grandmother on the phone with me when we talked to the landlord and I took her with me to the neighbor’s. After all, the problem is half hers. They are making her sick as well, and like me, she is livid. My ancient, tiny little 90 year old grandma, she got bold and a bit screechy on the phone and told our landlord that we were not the kind of people who would be pushed around. He got bizarrely cheery-friendly after that. Super-weird! I think her presence also de-escalated what would have probably gone poorly at the neighbor’s house if I had gone to talk to her alone. The neighbor said that my letter about her grill chemicals couldn’t be true because science and because her dad is a propane master and he said so, and that propane is heavier than air therefore cannot possibly coming into our windows.

I don’t know the goddamned science of it but I do know that something is coming in our goddamned windows every time they grill and it is making us sick as fuck! If the law said, “bitch, shut ya window and deal” I would do that. The law, as far as I can tell, defines smoke specifically as a private nuisance and a violation of city codes as well as our right to private enjoyment.

Oh well, what the fuck ever! I get trampled again! (And again and again). Sure I could take it to court but I don’t have the money or the goddamned energy for that. I have other unpleasant things that I could be doing. (I don’t get to have pleasure, so the option to do or experience pleasant things is a rarity around here).

Everybody supports the griller. Fuck it if you’re making somebody sick! But in this video, even though the complainant is yards and yards and yards away, and across a street, something is still done about it!

I suppose I could folllow through with the young officer’s instruction to call them and see what happens when and if they come, but I hate Ugly Neighbor Wars. I hate, well, damn near everybody, actually.

As the comments section shows, the support is largely in favor of the grillers.

I hate living in fear and oppression. I hate it!!!!! I have walked through cemeteries and ghettos in the middle of the night, devoid of fear… it’s creepy things like bosses and landlords and social services that scare me. I abhor them! People who have a certain measure of power over my very safety, and often wield that power. I also hate myself for being so pathetic that I am in the position of even having to deal with them.

I don’t have the wherewithal to go postal even if I wanted to – seriously, I am that pathetic, but… I understand why people do it sometimes. I understand it very well. They just get pushed and pushed and goddamn pushed. Treated like less-than. Treated like trash.

I wonder – if my landlord knew who my ex-landlord is (he is a scary bad bad bad old Italian man who is rumored to have Mafia ties, and has a very recognizable name in my favored West Coast city) and how I stuffed the upper half of my body into the passenger window of his car and thrust my face into his, mere inches away, glared into his horrible old eyes and repeated a truth about my tenancy that he was trying to strong arm and intimidate me into calling a lie. “Look into my eyes and say that” he challenged me. And I did – because I fucking knew that I was right. I am a meek, timid thing who hates confrontation but when I get pushed too far I go a little crazy. I still can’t believe I did that. He was livid. I barely got my fat little torso extracted from his window before he peeled his fancy ass Lincoln Zephyr out of the parking lot so fast that gravel spewed all over me, the mailbox, and the front of the house. That whole mess is another story for another day, but ultimately I did not back down. I won. I got my fucking relocation check which was mine by law. He had tried to intimidate me from it. Asshole!

My current landlord is just a fat little baby boy compared to my former one. I think if he knew these things that he would handle me with a LOT more caution. I am so goddamn tired of being pushed around and treated like shit because of what I look like and because I don’t work. I’m just po’ white trash, welfare scum. Drag me out and kill me because I was born to horrible people under horrible circumstances.  At least then I’ll be set free of this largely karma-free (I hope).

Speaking of hating confrontation both the landlord and the neighbor pretty much made fun of me fro writing a letter instead of just going over to talk to her. I tried to explain about MCS triggers and rage and weeping and how I didn’t think that would help the matter…

Ugh! I have to stop now! I don’t usually post stupid app shit to my (fake) Facebook page but today I posted one that said “What will the Magic 8 Ball say about you? Will (name) stop overthinking things?” The answer, of course, was “NO WAY!” It was so apt to how I get stuck in these frustrating mind grooves for hours and sometimes days almost like some sort of OCD.

I have more details about this mess going through my head – somebody somewhere is lying and I think it is my neighbor. She claims she has been grilling for the last 7 years and cannot understand why we bitch now. No, no she has not. For starters as MCS as I am, and as sensitive as my Grandmother is as well, we would have noticed that shit.

More, and there is no proof plus it’s bizarre – it would never stand up in a court – my grandmother has a strange fixation with neighbors in general. She always has. Elsewhere in this blog I describe what I call her “Lynn-Trip.” That’s just a part of it…

She doesn’t meddle or communicate with them at all she just lurks behind mini blinds in opened windows and observes things. She hasn’t done it so much lately but last year she knew quite a few details about the lives of the (now thankfully gone) loud obnoxious assholes who lived out back.

Her and I are both sure that the neighbor’s goddamned grill is new this year. I haven’t made a pattern of memorizing my neighbor’s porches but I don’t recollect seeing or smelling it before and the thing looks pretty goddamned brand new to me, for allegedly being over 7 years old.

Ugh so many details and I am sick of this blog entry now.  Actually, I was several paragraphs ago.

The apparent “resolution” is that she and her miserable tenants will now call us before she grills so we can shut the windows.  It’s fucking bullshit, half-assed and unfair. Apparently, that’s just how the fuck it will be unless I really do want to play Legal Ugly Wars. Let’s just see if she will follow through or keep this shitty game going.

People are horrible selfish evil shit-monsters, some of whom don’t mind making a disabled and and elderly, no, try ancient woman sick. More, the so-called  “authorities” seemingly side with her, barring one irritable and rather dense young officer who can’t be bothered to properly answer a simple goddamned question.

Do you see how my life goes?

Do ya?

I live in Hell.  😥

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