6.4.98

    T. and I went out to another ball game. This one was out at Dodger Stadium and they were playing the St. Louis Cardinals. I suppose this is a silly thing to say but I would have never guessed three and a half years ago, when T. and I were going out on our first official date, that I would ever be sitting with him, in Los Angeles, at a Dodger's game. It's a strange life that leads us.

    It was a nice game and I enjoyed being out. There seemed to be an abundance of smells. I would alternately catch strong whiffs of hotdogs, beer, lemonade, something fruity, chocolate, cotton candy and more hotdogs. It was quite pleasant. There were all these small yet rotund birds swooping down with such ease and swiftness that I kept thinking they were bats. I guess the bugs are plentiful under the bright, stadium lights.

    We were out next to left field and had a near miss with a foul ball. I ended up spilling beer on myself in all the excitement so I got cold. We decided to leave after the seventh inning stretch. A good time was had by all. And, I think the Dodgers won.

    Earlier that day...I came home to a monstrosity. T. and I have been having many problems with the apartment. I can't remember what I've already mentioned so I'll recap. Besides, nothing warms the heart like hearing that other people's lives totally suck. This is why Jerry Springer is such a popular show.

    The problems with the apartment when we moved in were: shower leaking all over the bathroom floor, no shelves in the medicine cabinet, back bedroom window not locking, kitchen drawer bottoms falling out, closet door off its tracks, carport ceilings caving in on my car hood, a bathroom sink which barely drained which had started filling with water not of our origin and the blinding light penetrating our cheap-o blinds in the bedroom at night.

    So we got them after months to fix the shower and the closet doors. Only (surprise, surprise) the caulking they used in the shower didn't work. So we had to re-fix the shower ourselves because whatever they used was water soluble. The bathroom sink was fixed by what has to be the most congenial plumber of all time who triumphantly showed me a fistful of natty black hair (definitely not ours, apparently we share pipes with the people next door). All of the rest of that stuff has remained unfixed. We finally issued an ultimatum, either fix all of it in two weeks or we'll do it ourselves and deduct it from the rent. (Pretty amicable, aren't we?) They agreed to that so this weekend we'll be able to get it all done and I'll be so happy.

    Back to the monstrosity. The monstrosity is pink and wide. It seems that pink and blue are popular exterior colors down here. Why this is I will never know. Perhaps some sort of cultural influence going on here? So, the clever and astute management team chose to repaint the complex from a tired shade of salmon to a much more perky peach/Crayola®flesh and the trim — ta daaaa — teal! Although, when I called it teal our fat, obnoxious toad of a maintenance guy informed me that it was "aquamarine."

    So, I get home from work the other day to find that the cement courtyard (newly enclosed) has been painted over. Let's just forget for a moment that they had originally said that the concrete would be removed and grass would be put in. Let's also just put aside the fact that they had said that the complex would be painted a demure shade of beige. No, no, let's concentrate on the fact that a 50' by 50' square is entirely, glossily pink. I tried to get T. to agree to taking lots of drugs (even NyQuil would do) and rolling around on the surface having pinko, fantastico hallucinations. What sort of frickin' solution is this? What sort of frickin' management do we have that puts paint on concrete? How does this make sense? I WANT OUT OF THERE!!!

    And, if you think I'm being aesthetically snobbish in wanting to get far, far away from this blight let me just share this little bit of information: our walls are so thin that I heard my neighbor fart the other day. Can I go now?!