I'm not talking about editing. I'm talking about decontamination.
In an interview between Tonedeff and Tori Amos she explains to him:
Not all writers are there to stir it up. Some are there to really make you think of rainbows and sunshine. Sometimes, I roll my eyes at them. I respect them because that’s who they are. You and I both know you have to know what kind of writer you’re trying to be. You will say something’s that will rip the skin off of people. You don’t try to expose the people, but the feeling.
It's been an upsetting 24 hours for me. My depression has spiked and I have my mother bear claws out.
City dwelling can be hard; we all have to share our hallway, our roof, garbage, aspects of our personal life we'd rather not - you know, STUFF.
I don't doubt for a second that our property managers told the newbies downstairs they could have the yard for a higher rent - just like they shouldn't doubt that we were told us it belonged to all the tenants. Three years ago our rental slick told us anything we wanted to hear just so we'd sign. The attached home had squatters living in it and while it was questionable which drugs you could get, it was certain you could get some.
So they got them to pay more in rent and gave them the yard without telling us.
...and they are the first to ever complain about sharing.
Fine, I will take my child, hoops, scattered toys and move back to the trash-alley curb with all its traffic, crude comments, and sketchiness.
I'm mostly mad at the realty company. More cash for them as they get their property value back up.
That aside, the weekend the tenants were away and I thought we were all living in cohabitation bliss I had one of the best times with Tristan ever. It will be always be one of my favorite memories of living here and I'm thankful that's mine to keep...except I will share it with all of you:
 |
| DJ TREX |
Jeez, what jerks. I can't imagine saying NO not going to share an apartment yard with a family with a child. UGH.
ReplyDeleteFreaking breaks my heart. This was the first time in my motherhood life where I didn't have to be whipping my head around for some sort of danger - like strangers, drunks/whatever, or the train or semi's - we live on a MAJOR ROAD. With about two feet before it's sidewalk. YOU'RE A MEAN GIRL! a mean MEAN GIRL.
Deleterrrrrrrrrr
That's craziness! I'm sorry your neighbors aren't sharing. From what I could tell during our visit, you guys are the kind of city neighbors we'd love to have. I'm sorry the realty company lied to everyone too.
ReplyDelete