Oh hey!

I've come back to blogging to announce that THERE'S A FUCKING HOLE IN MY KITCHEN FLOOR. Oh and also, we haven't had gas in TWO MONTHS. Oh and guess what else, there's nothing we can do about it because my idiot landlords had some genuises write the lease, which I signed and which says they can take my gas away and I can't do anything about it!!!!!! Unless I want to organize a tenants' association, but that would require talking to neighbors and EWW, I'm not doing that. Sooooo, we've spent the last two months cooking on a hot plate. Well, Gregg has. I stopped using that piece of crap the morning after I blew out all of the power in the apartment by trying to grind coffee at the same time I was allowing it to heat up... I suppose I shouldn't glaze over the fact that the hot plate is courtesy of our idiot landlords who provided "one hot plate per unit" in exchange for "complete cooperation from every tenant." Those are quotes from the heartfelt letter we all recieved along with the news that our gas would be out for six weeks...try nine weeks and counting. Oh, by the way, "complete cooperation" involves allowing strange men into your apartment, uannounced and usually when I'm in my robe or sports bra, to dig holes in your kitchen floor and leave giant messes which you are then required to clean. Well, Gregg cleaned. THANK YOU GREGG! So, yes, I am back to blogging because this was a gripe that begged to be shared.

P.S. If you can figure out how to zoom in on this picture, you may notice the chunk of watermelon Gregg tossed down the hole and into our downstairs neighbors' apartment.

P.S.S. Note that the hole in our ceiling feeds into one of my greatest fears, being spied on. I'm waiting to see a tiny camera appear from the hole...it'll happen...I just know it.