Category Archives: neighbours

It’s the little things that make life worth living

I started today with a bad CFS/ME attack, Stef once more had to do the carrying to and from the bathroom thing because I couldn’t physically move, grunting was the highest form of communication at my command and I felt like crap. I’m still aching to buggery and I’m soooo tired it’s untrue.. But I don’t care.

The neighbours have been shouting, arguing and slamming/ hammering on doors all morning – they did the same most of last night as well.. But I don’t care.

You know why I don’t care?

Well.. there’s a song about it *grin*

Petty satisfactions

I know, I’m supposed to be working at becoming a better person yada yada yada. I can’t help it though.

I’m quite happily listening to the Jack Johnson CD blaring out from the bedroom (we moved the cd player in there as it’s directly over the neighbours bedroom) I don’t know these tunes as well as I’d like so i’m only singing along intermittently. Since our objectionable neighbour started playing music til 5am again and banging doors and shouting, we’vre been getting up early and responding in kind.. Well, minus the banging and shouting.

We don’t have to consider next doors feelings now you see, they’ve moved out and someone else has moved in who is almost as bad as him downstairs, they seem to be getting along quite well in fact so I’m especially glad we’re moving in a months time.

That’s right, moving – I’m sooooo happy. I can rest easy in the knowledge that the chances of having someone stabbed on my doorstep or thugs coming round to kick in the front door are less than slim. We’re moving to Bushey.

I’m currently running around like a blue arsed fly attempting to sort out funding for this course – even though I’ve not been able to apply for it yet, the clearing lines don’t open until Monday so I’m just operating on faith on the recommendation of the lovely lass at Minerva house.

It’s not a huge loss if I can’t get on the course though. I figure that I can use this academic year to do permitted work under the disability back to work scheme and re-do my maths GCSE and then re-apply for the course next year. Obviously I’d rather start on my desired course immediately – but if I can’t I can rest easy in the knowledge that it’s for a good reason.
It may be that some other opportunity will arise that I’d have missed by taking on this course, or I could have a total relapse and have more student debt without the benefit of a qualification to justify it.. Either way, what will be will be.

At what time?

There I was having a pretty interesting dream when, as it dissolved around me, I was forced to realise that the sound of ‘More than a feeling’ by Boston was not in fact coming from the car radio of my dream but was actually reverberating around the bedroom through the floorboards.

I raised my still sleep sodden head to gaze at the clock only to see that it was 10 past 4 or 5, it took me three more songs (2 of which were skippy renditions of the Cyndi Lauper version of ‘I drove all night’) to manage to focus my bleary eyes enough to realise that yup, it was only 5.20am and I had in fact been asleep for a maximum of  2 hours.
This is when Stef turned over and asked me if this had been going on all night.

I’ve loaded the washing machine and I’m now sat patiently waiting for the music to stop so I can set it going, an hour of that shaking and rattling just may be enough to piss on his bonfire, sadly i doubt it because rather than being situated above his probably soon to be sleeping head, it’s over at the other side of the flat, the kitchen.

I think my next purchase is going to be taht rock polisher I’ve had my eye on and it’s going right by the front door so as I leave it on all night it can intrude upon HIS sleep for a change.

Petty? Yes, but this has been going on for months and the one time we didn’t just roll over and bitch quietly to ourselves and actually tried to get him to SHUT THE FUCK UP, round came the thugs to kick in my door and police were involved. 

Meh, it’s gone quiet now – I was all set to get the washer going but Stefs said to leave it, he wants to sleep and I can’t blame him. I just wish I could, I’m wound up and I’ve got that queasy feeling you get when your rest is interrupted, I know from experience that it’ll take a good few hours for me to be able to drop off again. So.. Guess I’ll go work my vampires for a bit and try to chill myself into calm.

All I’ll say is, this is some kind of torture, he’s making me dislike music that I’ve loved for years – I now can’t hear Dolly Parton without grinding my teeth in outrage (I know Jay, for you that’s a normal reaction) but If i start to have the same kneejerk reaction to soft rock I may well have to kill him, that’s half my karaoke repertoire and we all know how I love my karaoke!

Speaking of which, this is why we didn’t get to bed til about 2.30 this morning. We went for a drink with Dave to a nice little pub in Swinton, from there we ended up at the staff of life  – which hosts a cracking karaoke on a Saturday night. I got up and did a tune and was then berated by the KJ for not coming in earlier as it was too late for me to do another, i was a little disappointed but the atmosphere was so good in there it hardly mattered.
From there we headed back to Daves for a brew and watched an Allan Davies live stand up video – feckin’ hilarious, haven’t belly laughed like that in ages, then we wandered home and fell into bed, only to be woken now.

I think a nice calming game of Mah jongg and I’ll attempt sleepybo’s again – after all, I’m gonna be really pissed if I’m too tired for my driving lesson this evening.

Bit of a whinge.

I found this quite amusing, according to them next door, the wanker downstairs seems to think that we are responsible for his door getting the boot the other week.

The reason I find it so amusing is that if we had been responsible, his Dolly Parton CD would have been the first thing to go – there would have been many little pieces scattered across the floor beneath the wreck of what was once his stereo.

Sadly, the music playing all day upon his return is enough to attest to our innocence *sigh* What amazes me though is that he’s told our other neighbours that his stereo went missing so I’d love to know what he was playing that bloody CD on the day before he called the police round.. Anyone else smell a con job going on?
We actually saw him yesterday as we were walking up to the bottle bank, not a word was exchanged on either side and he couldn’t meet my eyes as I watched him walking towards and then past us.

But, no matter. He’s beneath notice, I should really stop wasting thought and blogspace on him. I don’t know why I let the whole situation get to me so much. I hate being here, and yet there’s no real reason why I should – apart from the music and ‘that night‘ we never have anything to do with him. The other neighbours all keep to themselves and apart from the space issue this is a relatively nice flat.
We’re close to all amenities and decent transport links, there are a couple of people I like that live not too far away and I’ve got karaoke close by on the rare occasions I fancy it.
Yet I still hate being here, I want to move so badly it hurts, I try not to think about it but, because I’m so stressed out at the uncertainty of how long I’m going to be trapped here, I can’t get to sleep (when I do I have nightmares) and I have no interest in keeping the place nice, I make suggestions and look at ways to improve it but my heart’s not in it at all – the worst part of it is, is that I know I don’t have any logical reason for feeling this way.

I just want out.

Aaaanyway, moving on..

I went to the library this morning to pick up some more Christopher Brookmyre books, I was quite impressed with his ‘All fun and games until somebody loses an eye‘ so much so that I can’t wait to crack on with the three others I checked out this morning, if only there was somewhere pleasant around here to go sit out with a book, seems a shame to waste this glorious weather on the net.

Back to work

I went to the jobcentre plus this morning for my appointment with the DEA adviser, she’s a lovely lass but it was a bit of a wasted trip because the computer system was down and there was not a lot she could tell me without it.
Story of my life that, I’m beginning to think someone somewhere really doesn’t want me working. I asked for the appointment over a month ago *sigh* figures..
I’ve been in the position a few times over the last three years of feeling fit enough to re-enter the rat race and then I’ve fallen flat on my face with a full on relapse so the jobsearch plans were shelved.
This time I decided that, rather than wait around until I feel well enough to find a job, I’ll go in anyway, tell ’em my limitations and get them to find a job that works around me instead of vice versa.

I’m to go back in 2 weeks and hopefully by then the system will be updated and working so she can offer me a little more than a couple of leaflets.

Meh, never mind eh?! On the plus side I was out of the house when the police came around. Apparantly wanker downstairs did have some things stolen (just not the stereo sadly *sniff* why couldn’t they have taken away the Dolly Parton cd?!) he got drunk as a skunk and called it in, no idea why he didn’t do it yesterday when he got back with his friend but it seems the theft has messed with his head slightly.

If he wasn’t such an inconsiderate moron that had called in a couple of thugs to kick my front door in I’d feel quite sorry for him – true pity as opposed to empathy of course, I like to think of myself as a ‘nice’ person but can’t fully empathise with that level of ‘pathetic’.
There is something seriously wrong with him, it’s like he’s on a constant hair trigger waiting to explode. I don’t know any real drug addicts or alcoholics so I couldn’t say if his behaviour is typical, but he should not be allowed out in public that’s for sure.

To quote our friendly PC “the guy’s a loon”

(and I don’t mean that as a slur on you canucks K, over here a loon is someone that’s really ‘not all there’ mentally)


Very odd happenings around here.

Our neighbour appears to have vanished. We heard a load of banging last night but ignored it – he’s always banging doors, we’ve remarked a number of times on the hardiness of them the way he slams about.
Since we’re just ignoring him after the incidents mentioned in that there link we thought nothing of it and heaved a sigh of relief when it stopped, since it then went quiet we settled in to watch a film and thought no more of it.

I went shopping earlier, when i came back I saw his door was wide open, Stef went down a few minutes ago to the car and when he came back in told me I should really call the police as the door has actually been kicked in, there’s post all over the floor, a light is on but there’s no answer. We don’t want to go in and check it out for obvious reasons, but the police will take a while to get here since it’s saturday night and they’re a tad busy.
Is it bad that a part of me hopes he’s not coming back? He’s caused me more stress these last few months than anything else, I’d not wish harm to the guy but I’d be much happier if he was living elsewhere!

That aside, i’ve spent most of teh day on the instructables site looking for ideas on maximising storage in this flat, it’s simply not big enough for 2 people to live comfortably and we’re obviously going nowhere for the forseeable future so I want to improve my living space as much as possible.

The plan is to get rid of my current kingsize bed and make a double loft bed instead, that way I can shift the computer desk etc into the bedroom giving us back half of the front room (which means we could possibly get a small table so I can finally do my jigsaws, or we could get some more seating in, or more shelving/ cupboard space..) Basically there’d be more space, you get the picture.

I was also thinking of ways to store my jewellery. At present I have a drawer full of boxes, all of which are crammed full of chains, bracelets and earrings (sadly nothing of any worth but it’s all pretty) it’s not good for the jewellery and not good for the wasted drawer space. I’m thinking of getting a plain bit of fabric and framing it, wall art and jewellery hanger in one – I may even just use an old sheet/ pillow case for the project, I could get all technical and light box it etc etc but I’m not that bothered – besides, it’s not a permanent solution, we will move some day and then I’ll find a more elegant way of storing my shinys.

In the meantime, I just want the police to get here so we can find out whats going on with downstairs, I may really dislike the guy but I’d still like to know he’s not lying in a pool of his own blood beneath my bedroom!


Policeman came around, asked us if we knew what had happened (obviously we don’t or we wouldn’t be trying to get the skinny offa him) looked very puzzled because the door has obviously been off all day and no one has said a peep until we called it in, the tv and everything is still there, no obvious sign of a struggle, no sign of the tenant.. Most odd.

I reckon he’s done it himself. He’s always slamming the door, I bet he came home pissed up and kicked it in because he couldn’t find his key, crashed out and left this morning to get someone to help him fix it..
Or maybe he’s been kidnapped by thugs to whom he owes a vast sum of cash (wouldn’t surprise me) or perhaps he went away and told some other thugs to come and kick in our door again and they got the address wrong.. Meh, who knows – I just hope we get some peace and quiet until he comes back

Juuuuust great.

Ok, so I got a crime number from the police, the joiners came around and temporarily fitted a new lock and made an interim repair to the front door, we’ve a new one on order but for now I’m not leaving the place empty until it’s been fitted, no matter how secure they say the repair is.

The whole thing was just so random. I know we’ve been making noises about what we’d like to do to the guy, he’s been annoying the hell out of us for months after all, but if we were really going to follow through on the talk he’d have been in hospital months ago.
All Stef and Ian did last night was bang on the door and windows until he answered (normally he just ignores the door but they refused to give up) When he finally did open up Ian goes to him “Don’t you think that’s a bit loud mate?’ to which he responded “no I don’t actually” and slammed the door, so they started knocking again, the music got louder, then I heard shouting, then the music stopped and the lads came back upstairs.

10 minutes later the music started again, we just looked at each other and laughed in disbelief and I came straight online to write a complaint email to the housing people.
I’d just sent it when we heard his door banging downstairs, then a few minutes later there came a knock at my door. I assumed it was the police because the lads had really made a row banging on his door before and there was no one else it could possibly be at that time of night (it being incredibly unlikely that he’d come round to apologise) and that’s when it all kicked off.

I still can’t believe it escalated to that level, he’s not right in the head that guy.
Sadly the police couldn’t arrest him because although he does own a rounders bat it was too short to match my description of the weapon used by the 2 balaclavad assailants, there was no evidence to link him to the attack – but there is just nothing else it could be about, it happened too soon after the lads went down about the noise to be anything else.
Mind you – even the copper said the guy’s a loon – apparantly he was running around the flat downstairs while they were trying to talk to him, the poor officer charged with the task of taking his statement had resorted to chasing after him saying ‘please come and sit down’.

If you feel threatened in some way you call the police, you do not call a couple of guys with a slab of wood to go calling on someone for you. That’s the kind of thing that happens in a bad soap opera.

I told you, my life could keep Jerry Springer in storylines for years!

Hows this for live blogging

I’ve just had my front door kicked in by the police.


Because Stef and Ian went downstaits before to get that TWAT to turn his music down (at gone 1am) so I could go to bed and sleep.
20 minutes later the front door goes, I go down, 2 lads in balaclavas with a large piece of wood (possibly a bat) are stood there demanding to know where my boyfriend was. I just said fuuck that and slammed the door, managed to turn the lock before they got to it, and hoofed it up to the phone and 999.

Whilst stef and Ian are trying to get the door open because it stuck after the outside assailants attacked it (my fault for turning the lock) I’m sat waiting for the police to arrive. They do within 10 minutes of making the call, by which time there is no sign of the lads and we’re still stuck in the house.

I now need a crime number because the police had to kick the door in to let us out, it’s kindling.

On the plus side, it turned out to be a damned sight sturdier than I’d expected – it stood up to repeated batterings from 2 lads, Ian going at it with a hammer from the inside after they’d gone and 3 or 4 hefty kicks from the copper on the scene to get it open.

opps, statement time. will update later.

new neighbour from hell

Sadly it came to my attention at 2.15am that our new downstairs neighbour is completely lacking in both moral fibre and consideration for others.

I’d gone to bed around 11ish after a really pleasent evening with Stef visiting Yogi and his folks in chadderton. At 1.57am I was awakaned by the sound of incredibly loud music (a 1940’s hitlist no less) and the lad next door banging on the floor.

I lay there for a few minutes expecting the music to turn down slightly allowing me to return to sleep – a rare sleep that had for once felt refreshing no less.
Sadly what happened was the sound of downstairs shouting “it’s my fucking house I can do what I want” and the music becoming even more audible.

I decided that, since we had started off on congenial terms – even to the point of Stef helping him decorate and us parting with a blow up mattress and some crockery when he first moved in (it seemed only right since he had nothing to sleep on and nothing in the way of feeding items)
we had told him if he needed anything he only had to knock on and I even furnished him with hot drinks while he was decorating before he got himself a kettle! (not to mention going out to help when he was getting his face pounded into the dirt)

Anyway, I threw on my trainers and went down and round to knock on his front door in order to ask if he’d turn it down so I could get back to sleep.

He opened the front door in an obviously belligerant state of mind. I said “Mark, I’m not being funny mate but it’s gone 2am and your music has actually woken me up – could you turn it down a notch please”
He gave me a filthy look and said “well you woke me up with the drilling or whatever it was you were doing this morning”

I was absolutely gobsmacked! the amount of mornings he’s woken us up since he moved in are uncountable – but even so, we’d had a lazy day and done nothing that could be accountable for the accusation.
I just said “well actually I’m not sure what you mean, if there was any drilling it wasn’t us..” Not allowing me to finish he just he replied “well, I don’t care who it was, this is my house and I’ll do what the fuck I like”
And then he slammed the door in my face!

I was furious.
I admit to a very unladylike scream of frustration at his front door (something along of the lines of “you ignorant little TWAT!”)

Then I stomped back upstairs shouting at stef that we were NEVER to do or say anything nice to the little shit ever again.
Stef of course was furious, he was all set to go down and teach the little sod a lesson, but I pointed out ‘what was the point?’ We lay there listening to the ongoing 1940’s hit list and tried to calm our anger and get back to sleep – it took a while, at least next door had stopped banging – he’d obviously heard the altercation and decided to give up too.

Sadly people like this have no concept of right or wrong if it interferes with their comfort, I really do not want to get into any dialogue with the little oik ever again and am now quite happily looking forward to the day we can move out of this pit and live somewhere we may actually be able to converse with our neighbours without resorting to curses or homicidal impulses.

It’ll also be nice to go somewhere I can get a good nights sleep and not wake up feeling like a tonne of crap like I did today *sigh* anyone got a country home in need of house sitting for a year or 2?
Seriously *grin* just gimme a shout and I’ll be there – I’ll even look after dogs or cats in situ, just don’t expect affection, feeding yes, affection no – I am not an animal person..