Rant: people and their pets

Last time I checked, having a pet meant that you were responsible enough to look after said pet. Eleven years ago I adopted an abandoned cat who had not yet been weaned and she is still with me to this day. I certainly wasn't responsible enough to even look after myself properly, but I made sure that she was always looked after and happy. She lived with my Mum during the couple of years that I lived in Israel and London, but other than that she has always been with me, and she's always been happy. Good food, clean litter, toys and lots and lots of cuddles.
As much as I want a dog, I know that it just wouldn't be fair to get one just yet, even though I have more time now. I just wouldn't be able to afford a dog right now, as they are so much more high maintenance than a cat. So, I will wait a while until I know I can afford a little jack russell, or pitbull, or bull terrier... I've always wanted a bull terrier with a patch on its eye so I can call it Bullseye, just like Bill Syke's dog in Oliver Twist. So yeah, not yet. Luna doesn't mind dogs, so I'm not worried about having them live together, it's just financially not a good idea right now.

A few months ago some girls moved into the apartment across from mine. They seemed pretty nice, although really young. They have a little dog, something between the size of a chihuahua and a jack russell, It's really cute and affectionate and they seem to look after it, I mean it looks like it is well-fed and loved. However, over the past few weeks I have noticed that whenever it is left alone it howls and barks and cries. And, even worse, it throws itself continuously against their front door, over and over and over again. So much that the whole hallway is filled with the noise of a little dog in despair, and there is nothing I can do about it! It just makes me so sad, because it is obviously lonely and hates to be left alone for long periods of time.

I finally saw one of the girls today and told her what was happening, and she looked at me as if I was insane, laughed, and said "yeah she gets lonely", and then tried to close the door in my face. I tried to tell her that it was a little more than that, but she laughed again and slammed the door.
Really rude.

Just like I said in my last FB status... Some people really don't deserve to have pets. makes me so sad. Now this little dog is going to continue to throw itself at the front door and maybe hurt itself, and there isn't anything I can do to stop it. I know this shouldn't affect me, but i am really sensitive and these type of things make me sad.

At least I know that this little one is happy:

Idiot Neighbours From Hell - RANT

Read on for another rant about my lovely neighbours. Have fun...

Usually you have one neighbour who ruins it for the rest of the building. One neighbour who is too loud and has people over consatntly. Or one neighbour who complains about everything, and calls the cops at any given moment. or one neighbour who never takes the trash out, and leaves it in the hallway to stink the building up (until one of the other tenants gives up and dumps it in the garbage).
But what if you have half a building full of this one neighbour? What if half the building is inhabited by obnoxious neighbours and the other half just shuts up and sucks it up until their lease is up so that they can move somewhere else?

Welcome to my life.

I am seriously far from being a goody-two-shoes, as anyone who has spent any time with me knows. I was pretty well-known for my raucous partying habits back in the day; and I still indulge in a good old party nowadays (although without the copious amounts of alcohol). I like to play my music loud. I like to stay awake half of the night writing and talking to my friends. I like having random dance parties at any given time and singing at the top of my voice. And I hate my neighbours.

I actually don't really know what any of them really look like, all of their faces blend together into one type of look: young, wealthy-but-pretending-to-be-poor, rebellious, late teen early 20's, first time living away from home. In other words, annoying poser gits.

(As a side-note, annoying poser gits severely irritate me, just because actually being poor REALLY sucks, and pretending to be poor is disrespectful to those who really are).

Beth and I were the first people to ever move into this building, and are now in our fourth year. The only neighbour I recognise is the lady right next door who must be on her third lease now. Other than that it's one continuous flow of different people, month in month out.

The first floor is comprised of two duplex apartments. I suppose they should normally house around three people comfortably. But for some reason the management company keeps renting them out to students who act like the whole building is a giant dorm, running up and down the stairs to the roof, slamming doors and constantly yelling at the tops of their voices. Hosting band practice during the day (there's loads of rehearsal space to rent in Bushwick, douchebags), inviting groups of hardcore gangster-style drug dealers to their rooftop parties (you gotta know one to recognise one right?), and, get this, the last straw this past weekend, throwing glass bottles off the rooftop into the courtyard. Because that's super smart right?!

But I think what irritates me the most is... I can't STAND the music they listen to!! If it were some real rebellious teen black/death metal/goth/punk/riot grrrl/fuck the world I hate you music I would at least be able to respect them. But yelling along to Katy Perry or some other replaceable girl singer at 2am?? No. No. No. NO.

They all need to leave as soon as possible please. I'll keep the hipsters from the building next door - at least they listen to semi-decent music, grow sunflowers in their yard and have a median age of 25.

Rant over. Until next time...

Nostalgia and my neighbours

When I get really nostalgic I often think about my last two years in France, living in the apartment on 5 Rue Crépu. I loved that place, even if the heating was bad and in the winter I tended to study wrapped in 3 sweaters and a duvet, writing with fingerless gloves on.

I had the most eclectic, interesting neighbours. People who were noisy enough not to mind our noise. No one ever gave us trouble for having late night parties with loud music (not even when I decided to give the whole street my rendition of Mozart's Don Giovanni at 3am from the balcony).
Just underneath us, on the 3rd floor (European 3rd floor) there was a very old and very deaf lady who lived with her grandson. Her grandson (I cannot remember his name) would spend his days shouting at the top of his voice so that she could hear him (although I doubt she ever did). "Mémé!! NOOOON! Faut pas faire ça!!!". He was such a strange guy, in some ways like an adult child. But always really kind and friendly, even though we would spend most nights blasting loud music and having at least 3 friends, all clad in black with long hair over.
Across from the guy and his grandmother was the "Nosey Italian Woman". She would stand at her door and just grumble about "people of today" and if you got caught up in conversation with her you could never get away. She was such a gossip though - she was the one who gave away all of Mr 5th Floor's secrets to me just before I moved out.

Ahhh... Mr 5th Floor... He was the best. Every single night between the hours of midnight and 3am he would move his furniture around his apartment. Consistently every single night. In high heeled shoes. I could only imagine the scene. This guy was about 5'5", shaped like a cube, with a red face and big nose, dressed in high heels and rearranging his apartment. I don't think he ever uttered more than "Hello" to me in the two years I lived there!
Nosey Italian Woman let me in on his deepest (ha ha ha) secret one day: he supposedly dressed up in women's clothes at the weekend and hung out in Parc Paul Mistral at night (I will leave your imaginations to conjure up what happened there during the night...). I suppose all of the high-heeled wearing furniture antics were just him practicing how to prance around in heels.

My neighbours are all boring, predictable, annoying hipsters here. I don't remember any of them and would not recognise any of them if I bumped into them on the street. But I remember my neighbours from 5 Rue Crépu to this day. Eight years later.