The neighbors

Guess what I found in the flower bed outside my apartment as I came home from the (soaking) 4th of July BBQ. A dead goldfish!!!

I don't want to throw stones, but it some of my neighbors - I don't know yet who - are not very pleasant. I've found some pretty nasty stuff in the flowerbeds - cigarette butts, candle wax, broken glass, more cigarette butts, and now, the latest charming addition. I have a feeling it's the kids above us, who spend a lot of time by the window overlooking the backyard (and out on the roof) smoking and, apparently, throwing their dead pets out and not knowing how to dispose of burnt-down candles. I'd really like to take this stuff back to its rightful owner and tell him/her to shove it where to sun don't shine, but not knowing for sure who the culprit is makes that rather undoable.

Also, last Monday when I took our recycling bin out to the curb for pickup I noticed that there were four sixpacks of beer and vodka-drink bottles in our recycling bin that neither I nor Shan had put there. We keep the bin on our porch and I suspect that one of our neighbors just put their recycling in our bin. Common guys! I took the sixpacks out and put them on the common porch for the other apartments in the house and there they are still. I might have to remove their dead pets from my flowerbed but I am NOT taking the remains of their parties to the curb for them. ASSHOLES!

So, what do the Danes do then? At the time when Shan first moved in here he was promised that only grad students (read: grown ups) would live here. That held true for the first year or so but by now we feel that we are orders of magnitude older than most of the people living in the house. I don't have anything against young people (being so fabulously young myself... ehem...) but I don't want to live in the same house as they, at least not in Ithaca. We are pretty pissed off that the landlord has defaulted on his promise so severly.