2001, May 13. diary-a
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My fortune cookie today said: "Life always gets harder near the summit"

And it told me how to say Lobster in Chinese.

We discovered that our neighbor, "Scary", as we liked to call her. Was in fact a man at some point previously. She moved out *hooray!* and we rifled through her nasty nasty junk she left behind. Open needles everywhere, chunks of weave matted into the carpet, used condoms in mugs, random seemingly stolen ID's and credit cards, used heroin baggies, mail, forms, etc with lots of different names and variations on her "name", medical equipment and book after book of medical procedures and hundreds of bottles of injectable estrogen. Oh, and did I mention the gray water stopped up in the sink, the filthy tub and the maggot filled refrigerator?

We also found copies of Sandra's (other neighbor) Blockbuster card - three of them. Then the next day Sandra goes to rent a movie and wham 81 dollars on her account due. I woke up to the screaming and smashing and throwing of things that occurred when Sandra ran into Scary the next day and Scary said - very contemptuously- that she didn't have the money.

You just don't do that to someone, especially when they are going through trying to get the $40,000 your dickhead ex ran up on your credit while fucking other girls and leaving you with the baby.

Not cool my friends.

So we're helping Sandra get her shit in storage so the apartment is empty while she trains in Texas. See, Steve won't come to the apartment while she's there, so she' s taking it all out so if he comes while she's gone, he'll have nothing to fuck his new girlfriend he lies about having, yet she's seen him with her kind of thing. We're gonna hold on to her stove and washer/dryer while she's gone so we can do laundry and so Alyx can cook on a nice stove for a change. She gave us $400 to help her move it into storage, which id really no big deal; the storage place is at the end of the block. Whatever.

So it's colorful as usual�

I've realized that it's basically my fault my dog is fucked in the head - well, mine and all the other jokers who were a part in her upbringing. And unfortunately she's getting worse because Alyx is very stern with her and now she's developing new bad habits�*sigh* What have I done? I've been reading a book on training your dog, and tonight I think I'm gonna start. I mean, she knows a lot of commands, sort of, but I'm gonna go through them all as if she knows nothing, adding hand gestures to reinforce what she knows and all that.

This is why I'm terrified to have kids. I fucked up my dog for christ's sake. And she's only 14 pounds. I want to find a professional to go to, but I'm not sure where to start a search like that and more importantly, where the money would come from to do it.

But Alyx got a job! He starts on Monday. The hours are kinda lame - starts at 7:30 am to 6 pm- and the pay is a little less that he's used to, but their apparently these custom culture rockabilly guys who do scenic work (and work on their cars after work in the shop). The only thing is there's a lot of driving involved and Alyx doesn't have a license due to a $400 ticket he didn't pay in Florida. So next week we go find out about getting a NY state license, and hopefully not having to fork over $400. Which we just don't have.

It just never ends. Oh, and I still haven't paid my taxes yet...