Louise Boils Over
After walking all the way home from the Lilly Pad Thursday night/Friday morning; entering the apartment to find Louise reclined on the couch in front of a table atop which were the debris of whatever she had feasted upon; I went into my room, closed the door, kicked one of my chairs, threw my bag hard against something, then lay down on the floor between my bed and the wall to try to pass out.
I lay on the floor, because after having walked the 2 miles home, laden with a backpack made extra heavy with at least a gallon of spring water, I felt pretty hot, and the temperature in the apartment felt oppressive. Louise had adjusted the thermostat to her satisfaction on more than one occasion during her stay.
I set a "bone-in beef shank" soup bone in a pan of water and, putting the lid on, set the burner to a very low setting (less than "1") and went back to lie down again. The idea was to do like a crock pot thing and let it slowly simmer for hours, hopefully to get the marrow out of it.
On Bone Marrow
Bone marrow has been a new discovery by me at the age of 53. I find that it somehow makes me feel better in the morning; the same way coconut milk does.
The discovery that some foods can make me feel better is a new one also; I had always prescribed to the theory that the road to health was in eliminating offending foods. Now I believe that there can be a balance between cutting out some things, while fortifying with others.
Fasting is like house cleaning; and to extend the analogy; like demolition -tearing out the walls and the ceilings and the floorboards in the "house." The house would then optimally be restored using newer, nicer and cleaner materials...
The Marrow Of The Story
I didn't put enough water in the pan and, combined with the fact that there is a little steam release hole in the top of the lid, and that I misjudged just how hot "1" can be on a stove burner, by 7:30 AM the soup bone was sizzling in what was left of its fat and starting to sear on the bottom.
Louise heard the sizzling and got up to investigate.
Finding the burning soup bone (which was not even a danger to set the smoke detector off) and then not seeing me in my room, as I was behind the bed on the floor, Loise freaked out, thinking that I had put something on the stove and then gone out; putting her life at risk, not to mention that of Harold the cat's.
She had left her previous apartment after the landlady had "tried to blow the place up" by leaving a gas line on.
She got on the phone with someone and began to have a chat about me and my apartment.
I almost wanted to call her attention to the fact that I was in the house and could hear every word; but I was also curious to hear what she would say to whomever this person was, whom she had called immediately after having made the gruesome discovery of the burning "bone in shank of beef" and still trembling with fear after such a close brush with death.
To make a long story short, she was basically pissed off at America for giving a nice free apartment to "some dumb ass, alcoholic who can't even function in society" while she, a talented gifted person with a lot to offer the world "has to" sleep outside.
She added that if it were not for the rheumatoid arthritis that has beset her since childhood, she certainly would have gone over to the Middle East and "knocked in the heads" of "those women hating camel jockeys. But I couldn't and so 14 year old girls have to do the fighting!"
She is, as a result, not a veteran and out of the running for an apartment in this building, and blames the unfairness upon America and just about anything else.
I eventually made my presence known, so I wouldn't have been totally eavesdropping, but I'd heard enough.
She then went on to berate me for having left the pan on the stove and put her life in jeopardy; and even though I countered with something like: "I know my stove, I've been here almost a year and nothing is going to catch on fire from that low a settings; plus the smoke alarms here are almost too sensitive and the thing would have screeched before the place was totally engulfed in flames," this only enraged her more, as she felt that I was calling her stupid.
So that is the note that Louse went out upon.
I told her I didn't appreciate being cussed out in my own home.
This prompted her to say: "You don't have a home! This isn't your home! This is owned by a government that's too f***ed up and stupid to know who deserves it and who doesn't. They'd rather give it to a dumb ass alcoholic who's going to burn it down, rather than someone like me...etc."
She then proceeded to take an extra long shower -the bathroom walls reverberating her non stop rant- and then prepared herself a large breakfast, perhaps trying to use up the last of the eggs and the cheese, etc. and then she was gone, on the day that she would have had to have been anyways.
I appears that she had done a really good job of keeping her venom under wraps the entire time that she was availing herself to the resource of the apartment.
The Red Flags
In hindsight, some of the red flags should have been A: When she had gotten off at the wrong place, 2 blocks down the road and I hadn't answered her texts right away; she texted back some pretty nasty stuff, like "If you didn't want me to stay there, you should have said something before I brought all my stuff here," and "Are you just going to leave me out here to be raped?" and other overemotional things.
B: She thanked me profusely after she had made it inside, then added that I was her last resort; because she had no other friends. No friends=Red flag; I'm now convinced.
C: And of course, my music that she loved so much upon her arrival began to evince in her signs of annoyance; but that red flag came along pretty late; around half way through her stay. By then, she had pretty much decided to vacation at my place and had only worked a couple nights.
She took a Saturday night off, lamenting that it was her best money night of the week and that she really shouldn't have "but oh, well..."
To be fair though, her presence "enabled" me to stay pretty wasted the whole time, and there were times that I might have gone to the Lilly Pad a lot earlier than I did, being in a hurry to make my "first beer" money, but Louise had flipped me a few dollars from the couch and I went to the store down the street and then slackened my pace in general.
She is going to buy my cat Harold off of me for 20 bucks; she's already given me 50% down on him.
I'm doing it for the sake of the cat; and for the fact that it is a chore to keep him here. His litter box needs to be emptied at least every other day. And, look at what he did to the toilet paper! (photo above).
After walking all the way home from the Lilly Pad Thursday night/Friday morning; entering the apartment to find Louise reclined on the couch in front of a table atop which were the debris of whatever she had feasted upon; I went into my room, closed the door, kicked one of my chairs, threw my bag hard against something, then lay down on the floor between my bed and the wall to try to pass out.
I set a "bone-in beef shank" soup bone in a pan of water and, putting the lid on, set the burner to a very low setting (less than "1") and went back to lie down again. The idea was to do like a crock pot thing and let it slowly simmer for hours, hopefully to get the marrow out of it.
On Bone Marrow
Bone marrow has been a new discovery by me at the age of 53. I find that it somehow makes me feel better in the morning; the same way coconut milk does.
The discovery that some foods can make me feel better is a new one also; I had always prescribed to the theory that the road to health was in eliminating offending foods. Now I believe that there can be a balance between cutting out some things, while fortifying with others.
Fasting is like house cleaning; and to extend the analogy; like demolition -tearing out the walls and the ceilings and the floorboards in the "house." The house would then optimally be restored using newer, nicer and cleaner materials...
The Marrow Of The Story
I didn't put enough water in the pan and, combined with the fact that there is a little steam release hole in the top of the lid, and that I misjudged just how hot "1" can be on a stove burner, by 7:30 AM the soup bone was sizzling in what was left of its fat and starting to sear on the bottom.
Louise heard the sizzling and got up to investigate.
Finding the burning soup bone (which was not even a danger to set the smoke detector off) and then not seeing me in my room, as I was behind the bed on the floor, Loise freaked out, thinking that I had put something on the stove and then gone out; putting her life at risk, not to mention that of Harold the cat's.
She had left her previous apartment after the landlady had "tried to blow the place up" by leaving a gas line on.
 |
| Harold Is Adorable |
I almost wanted to call her attention to the fact that I was in the house and could hear every word; but I was also curious to hear what she would say to whomever this person was, whom she had called immediately after having made the gruesome discovery of the burning "bone in shank of beef" and still trembling with fear after such a close brush with death.
To make a long story short, she was basically pissed off at America for giving a nice free apartment to "some dumb ass, alcoholic who can't even function in society" while she, a talented gifted person with a lot to offer the world "has to" sleep outside.
She added that if it were not for the rheumatoid arthritis that has beset her since childhood, she certainly would have gone over to the Middle East and "knocked in the heads" of "those women hating camel jockeys. But I couldn't and so 14 year old girls have to do the fighting!"
She is, as a result, not a veteran and out of the running for an apartment in this building, and blames the unfairness upon America and just about anything else.
I eventually made my presence known, so I wouldn't have been totally eavesdropping, but I'd heard enough.
She then went on to berate me for having left the pan on the stove and put her life in jeopardy; and even though I countered with something like: "I know my stove, I've been here almost a year and nothing is going to catch on fire from that low a settings; plus the smoke alarms here are almost too sensitive and the thing would have screeched before the place was totally engulfed in flames," this only enraged her more, as she felt that I was calling her stupid.
So that is the note that Louse went out upon.
I told her I didn't appreciate being cussed out in my own home.
This prompted her to say: "You don't have a home! This isn't your home! This is owned by a government that's too f***ed up and stupid to know who deserves it and who doesn't. They'd rather give it to a dumb ass alcoholic who's going to burn it down, rather than someone like me...etc."
She then proceeded to take an extra long shower -the bathroom walls reverberating her non stop rant- and then prepared herself a large breakfast, perhaps trying to use up the last of the eggs and the cheese, etc. and then she was gone, on the day that she would have had to have been anyways.
I appears that she had done a really good job of keeping her venom under wraps the entire time that she was availing herself to the resource of the apartment.
The Red Flags
In hindsight, some of the red flags should have been A: When she had gotten off at the wrong place, 2 blocks down the road and I hadn't answered her texts right away; she texted back some pretty nasty stuff, like "If you didn't want me to stay there, you should have said something before I brought all my stuff here," and "Are you just going to leave me out here to be raped?" and other overemotional things.
B: She thanked me profusely after she had made it inside, then added that I was her last resort; because she had no other friends. No friends=Red flag; I'm now convinced.
C: And of course, my music that she loved so much upon her arrival began to evince in her signs of annoyance; but that red flag came along pretty late; around half way through her stay. By then, she had pretty much decided to vacation at my place and had only worked a couple nights.
She took a Saturday night off, lamenting that it was her best money night of the week and that she really shouldn't have "but oh, well..."
To be fair though, her presence "enabled" me to stay pretty wasted the whole time, and there were times that I might have gone to the Lilly Pad a lot earlier than I did, being in a hurry to make my "first beer" money, but Louise had flipped me a few dollars from the couch and I went to the store down the street and then slackened my pace in general.
She is going to buy my cat Harold off of me for 20 bucks; she's already given me 50% down on him.
I'm doing it for the sake of the cat; and for the fact that it is a chore to keep him here. His litter box needs to be emptied at least every other day. And, look at what he did to the toilet paper! (photo above).
Get rid of her! Change the locks if necessary, tell the door guard she's dealing drugs, keep her away!
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