9/1/97 - The Lachrymatory State of the Domicile. Okay, it's been a week that we've been staying in this apartment so I think it's time we gave it a report. An indifferent, official report. Heh. Whatever I can say about this place, it's still better than the rathole we had last year. Actually, calling it a rathole is inaccurate -- I think rats get more square feet for living space. You just can't top having toilet and shower water dripping down into your bathroom and common area because the guy above you doesn't know how to shut off the valve of the toilet or how to make sure water doesn't leak out of the shower. I've said in the past that people aren't born to be killers, but I'm positive some people are born stupid. This year, we're on what is essentially the top floor of a two-floor complex. No more immediate human stupidity problems. The potential problem with rain has yet to be tested -- I think our area of Texas has gotten three inches of rain in August. But the ceiling is an actual ceiling here, and not the asbestos tiles notorious for falling down in our public schools (I'm positive those things are still made out of asbestos). The place is altogether pretty good. New carpet, fresh paint, no blood stains and white chalk body markings anywhere. Plenty of space for two people. It'll be more comfortable once it's been more lived in. The dressers don't lean and tilt over like they did last year (until we got them fixed). But the dressers ARE missing knobs. My roommate's was missing four. Mine's only missing two. Present tense since the maintenance guy hasn't brought them yet. We're getting concerned about the shower. It's one of those small shower-only type deals. There's a pipe which goes diagonally from the ceiling to the wall, and it's been leaking this strange light red/rust stuff down the wall from out of the pipe. It has flakes sometimes, too. I don't really want to know what it is. It's odorless, which kind of removes some of our more prominent fears/guesses. It's manageable until we get this problem fixed but...it's just sort of weird. You know? And the vent above the 10 square foot (at least, that's what it seems like) kitchen was dripping the other day. No rain, no nothing. These little mysteries can worry the mind. Your imagination starts to crank and you come up with the most disgusting and dangerous possibilities first. We never think about how these things could actually be GOOD. For our safety's sake, methinks. Really, that's about it. The dishwasher had some junk in it, but we got that cleaned up. Oh, wait, there IS one more thing... The "fucking phone line." (FPL) Phone companies get away with so much shit. Why don't they hire more people for the initial weeks of school around college campuses? I phoned in my order for a line two days after my roommate (I got in later) and they said they could only come out a week later, which is tomorrow. So I'm hoping I don't miss this mysterious person, or he may never be back until next month, doing whatever he does that requires so long to do. They do something like 10-15 lines a day. Ooh. "Avarice, the spur of industry." -David Hume The lack of a second FPL has caused me severe headaches (mental, not physical headaches). Sharing a line with the only person who downloads 40 disk warez games on a modem. Have you ever seen anything like this? I mean, okay, I downloaded a 40MB test version of Hexen II, but hey, I was in a select group of people, and I downloaded it on my single line at home. Don't blame me for not updating every day, or for not answering e-mail, or for not keeping up with the latest software, or for not being able to shower my gorgeous woman with more e-mails and little reminders and presents and whatnot. Blame Austin. Yes. Blame Austin. Yet another depressing state capital (are there ANY outstanding state capitals). If it didn't have UT Austin, it would be another Augusta, Maine. Apologies to anyone from Augusta, Maine. ;) . . . c o m |-. ,-. ,-. |- . . ,-. ,-. ,-. ,-. | | |-' | | | | | | | | |-' | `-' `-' ' ' `' `-' ' ' ' `-' '