And today being the solstice is one of the longest ones - literally, but in truth most of this week has seemed infernally long, stupid and trying....and nowhere near the full moon yet so who can imagine what is in store in the next few days ahead? Trust me, when you live next door to a crazy lady, often off her meds, you can peg the moon's path by the "lunacy" demonstrated. It's all the more beautiful when the crazy person in question is actually, yes, a lawyer for the Fair Housing Act. I can't make this shit up, it's so beautiful. AAAAH!
How this nutter can operate in court and not get disbarred is just one of those topics you don't want to get into unless you like tearing your hair out and shrieking at the skies. But this flipping broad is seriously bi-polar and has a BIG BONER to dick with anyone in her path. Her special delight is fucking with the condo board here because mad or no, she has just enough legal chops to create a ruckus. And did I say, she's fucking coo-coo for coco puffs? Like seriously scary, don't look into her eyes, she'll steal your soul, nuts? Well, this week, our precious Leslie, the 95 pound hag from Hyde Park, was on my ass big time and consequently, yours truly is pooped out. I only regret I did not take pictures of the hallway where the loony bird treated the carpet (after purposely letting her animals wander the hall) and then proceeded to make an obstacle course of blue duct tape and household items around the treated piss-stained stairway including but not limited too: a hula hoop, feather duster, basketball, small boxes, and several disturbing hand written signs that were taped everywhere - including the floor. She then left me a series of handwritten threatening notes (addressed to yours truly) up the stairs (on check registers) and littered the hall with her business cards. Although she did manage to actually slip her late June assessment and special assessment of $750 under the door. Totally priceless. Being the treasurer for this infernal place, I will take this as win. Oh, but at what cost?
I know it was rich because the gay men of the building, all soused from their afternoon liquor, came up to me with hugs and kisses at the yard sale on Saturday and shrieked, "You go girl, take her on!" We conversed and traded Leslie stories and finally after much ribald laughter, I actually felt better. Especially when I admitted that I was surprised not to have seen an ear lying on the stairs - ala Vincent Van Gogh. But when I did witness her leaving the building today in floaty red sundress and red Converse hi-tops before starting this post, I had to sigh in relief and giggle.
Truth is always stranger than fiction and always more so in Rogers Park.
But today, blissfully - today is like time stopped. The whacked broad next door took down her paraphernalia in the hall and left. And the summer skies are bright as the solstice culminates tonight. We are in the throes of summer: summer with all it's sweet mysteries and inside jokes. Summer and the clang of dishes being scrapped across the gangway from the building next door. Fireflies. Craving soft serve ice cream. (Let's go, let's go to Dairy Star! And watch the Hasidim and various softball and soccer teams chow down on kosher non-dairy soft serve!) The gentle breeze off the lake. The sound of the TV in the front room trickling down the hall. Don on the phone quietly with his daughter Nicki. My strange little home in the city.
I read somewhere online that the brightest light cast the deepest shadows. Tonight when the skies finally darken and the cats prowl, I will take stock of both the light and the dark - and sleep soundly. There are days, my dears, there are days.....................when we meet symbolically the witches of our nightmares and also our dreams.
Did I say the nutter actually looks like Margaret Hamilton???? Mi Vida Loca, babies.