The Kvetch Thread

It's 1:02 p.m., and I'm still up. Nuff said. A sufficient kvetch in itself.

Definitely kvetch-worthy.

Hope you eventually found the way to slumberville.

Sturgis, I finally got to sleep at around midnight. Woke up a little while ago (nine something in the morning). Not used to being up at this time. Reminds me of an old joke.

Hey, is that the sun up there?
I don't know. I'm new in town.

So there I was. Enjoying the peaceful quiet when I heard a doorbell. Bing-bong, bing-bong. Okay it's a doorbell and I thought maybe it was from someone's television set. The window was open to get fresh (like that'll ever happen in this city) air and people have access to their yards and at times play radios (or whatever they play these days).

Every few minutes, bing-bong, bing-bong, I realized it wasn't a television or radio. Voices began infiltrating the peaceful afternoon. More of the bing-bong, bing-bong. Damn inconsiderate s.o.b.s have managed to get the doorbell to ring outside. Most doorbells are loud enough and situated near a rear exit door that they can be heard without subjecting the world to them.

The afternoon turned to evening and more bing-bong. bing-bong. 11 p.m. it happened again. Most of the annoying fabricated (college speech course) voices had faded but the occasional. Okay, it's Saturday night I'll let it slide.

2 a.m. these bozos are still out there. From the sound, about 5 of them. I have the window open, nice breeze, cool night. Put the fan on to drown the noise of these drunken jerks. Nope, that won't do it. They are somewhere near but I can't spot them which tells me they are just on the other side of the trees. Sound comes through but you can't see them.

Time goes on, I get some half sleep. 4:16 I awake to their cackles and guffaws and other self centered bratty noises. Yup these scuzzballs are still out there. We seem to be down to the last 3. Drunken miserable slime who need mommy and daddy to pay for their pricey apartment. The voices sound young. Many of these people are subsidized by their parents. In a perfect world they would end up living in abject poverty with 20 screaming children and with a a one-eyed spouse who is 88% insane.

I am hoping the weather forecasts are correct for later in the week and it becomes warmer so I can shut the window and make Con-Ed happy by running the air conditioner. Meanwhile these dimwits will have their allowance cut off and find themselves at the Taco Bell on 6th Avenue competing with the rats for leftovers which patrons fail to eat.


Okay, that ends that kvetch. Next!

Stand back for the new royalty. The Duke of Kvetch.

Sturgis, that was a doozy. Very personal. Filled with the right amount of venom. Pitiable. And just the right amount of humor.

I salute you. And I'm sympathetic to the problem.

Hey, you bell ringers. Shut the **** up and give Sturgis some peace.

Slightly OT, but saw this on editing symbols and thought of you...

I called T-Mobile today in order to what I thought pay my last months and last bill with them: a bill of $72. My contract ended in early May. According to the anticustomer service rep, I owed $200+. Two months plus the nitpicking $50 early cancellation fee because I changed my account on April 30 despite I will have to still pay for the last month on the contract.

I am so furious and upset that in these tight times they won't at least waive the $50 fee despite I technically will be paying for every month of the two year contract.

Irish, Thanks for the symbols. If I ever edit another thing (even one page) on hard copy, I'll be sure to use them--all of them.

tsar, If you're paying for all the months of the contract, why are they charging you for the early cancellation fee? You already thought of that. That's the crux of the kvetch. I'm being thick today. It's hot. I'm sympathetic but not surprised. Hey T-Mobile. Up yours.

I had no work and no offers for more than a week. (Makes me nervous.) Yesterday I was offered a big editing job. Big, but not a rush. I said yes. Today I was offered two more editing jobs. I turned them both down. I can't do two big editing jobs at the same time, let alone three.

Now I'm upset that I said no. I think I made the right decision. That's not my kvetch. I'm kvetching that I can't do two, let alone three, editing jobs anymore. At one time I could easily do three with a few proofreading jobs as well.

I don't mind old. But I do mind old and feeble. I give a mighty Bronx cheer to the feeble part.

Now I'm kvetching that there's no emoticon for a Bronx cheer.

Is that close enough?

Close but no cigar. Thanks for trying, Andy.

Two proselytizers in the last hour. (I never answer but they leave stuff)
Is there something about Thursday evening?

Back in other places I lived, there were mostly food related efforts.

osso, You mean people come to your door??!!

Oh, yeah. People from many churches. I haven't collected the names.
Not so much food places from my past in other cities.
I call them church loons, though I can imagine being one. After all, I sold girl scout cookies.
Last thing I'd do is answer my door, especially at night.

Well, y'know, I'm from Venice, and my husband had lived through a home invasion as a teen in south LA, and our street was a good walk street to get from West Washington (then, street has new name, Abbot Kinney) to Lincoln.
Good real estate now, but redlined when we tried to buy.
And me, I have lifetime had certain fragilities re vision. We had events on our porch, but also watched the door.

A few years ago now, I had massive pounding on my front door here, 4 a.m.
I was not only naked or just tee shirted but wildly against answering the door.
Found my bathrobe, gave in and answered -
my neighbor's house was on fire.

I joined the neighbors watching the fire department handle stuff.
I'm friends with that neighbor now, at least somewhat. We like each other's dogs and she helped me with water recently. It was the heater.

Hah, Katy is a plus on this, such a WOOF.

A long time ago I started a thread about normal things that make me nervous. One of the first things I mentioned was a house. Any slob can just walk up to the door. I'll take my apartment with the doorman in the lobby. You've got more space and land outside. I don't have just any slob walking up to my door.

I like a house.

who wants a nosy guy watching them come and go all the time...?

but my house sets back a long way. I can see who's coming long before they get here...

I still got no goats. and it's hot. and I have to work on my own vehicle. a bunch...

but I'm home until I decide to leave. tomorrow is a semi-lump day.

I have always liked houses, that I remember. My parents spent a lot of their lives - in my child's eye view - looking at houses while we rented or lived with my aunt. I drew up plans, I'm sure ridiculous, but that was the start of my interest in buildings, land, and design. Too bad I spent years at what I'm not good at, biochemistry, etc. Still, from all that science I recognize some words.

I worry about your goats too.

It's too steenkin' hot.

C'est tout.

Just to put things in perspective- A gal that I know is now in Virginia. It was over 100 degrees, and because of the storms, she has had no electricity (and therefore, no a/c) since last weekend. She thinks it wil be a few more days before the electric is working again.

Feel better, now!!!

I'm sympathetic to your friend, but I don't feel better. Foist of all, her discomfort doesn't make me cooler. Second. I have no AC. When your friend's power is restored, she'll be cool and I'll still be schvitzing like crazy.

How you doing down there in Florida? Keeping comfortable, I hope.