Terms and Conditions

[Sub-Heading: Whatever]

Note: For the purpose of this vague, confused and random blog post, the word "whatever" refers to; interactions between people (verbal, emotional, physical, intellectual), degrees of love (however this is defined), availability of mind (however this is defined), and anything/everything else.

What is the correct amount of whatever in any equal human relationship (so excluding, for example, the parent/child relationship - though, in theory, this relationship becomes more equal over time)? What parameters should be used when framing the measure of whatever - moral, legal, social, cultural, economic? How much commitment to whatever is reasonable or necessary or justifiable? Is it ethical to extract more whatever from another human than is being freely given? Maybe it turns out that the human is happy to give more but hadn't thought to do so. But what if a human isn't wanting or willing or able to give more whatever? And if extraction is allowed, how much is allowable, and what strategies are acceptable? To what extent is the whatever in relationships negotiable? Does one person ever have more say about the whatever than another because of certain circumstances? Or is it the case that the whatever that is offered is all that should be expected?

Things that are usually sought by humans from other humans are companionship, solace, nebulous love, adoration, emotional intimacy, physical intimacy, mental stimulation, intellectual connection - things that, supposedly, stave off existential loneliness and existential sadness, and which make life more worthwhile and enjoyable. Do humans have an obligation to provide these things for other humans? Why not embrace existential loneliness and existential sadness? Most likely there are terribly enlightening truths to be found in these. Does a person have to accept feeling lonely and sad because nobody loves them or wants to interact with them? Are people only allowed to be 'happy' if they are loved by other people? I don't need for other people to love me. I don't even need for me to love me (though, sometimes, I am quite besotted with myself). There are times when I'm not even sure I want people to love me. Don't love me! Or, do love me! Just don't expect me to finish this ill-conceived and increasingly inane blog post with any kind of reasoned conclusion about whatever.

Operation Sneaky Gardening Has Been Successful!

Mission: To get front tenant to park her car fully into her car parking space such that the back of her car doesn't protrude into the driveway and thus reduce or obstruct my ability to get my car into and out of the driveway.

This task needed to be achieved without recourse to speaking to front tenant as front tenant is stark raving bonkers (ProTip: sleeping in is not a sufficient reason for not moving your car when you have parked in behind me). So, not wanting to ever have to interact again with front tenant as long as we both shall live, but needing to get her to move her car approximately half a foot further into her parking space, I was faced with a somewhat dastardly dilemma. One option was to put a note into her mailbox politely explaining the car protrusion issue, but if this note happened to catch her on a bad day, it might provoke her into yelling (again) at me through my door (previous yelling was because I wouldn't let her park behind me in the driveway). Another option was to reverse wildly out of the driveway and bang my car into her car and maybe she'd take the hint - I'm not so concerned about damage to my car, which is 25 years old and starting to rust, whereas she seems to be proud of her much newer, unmarked, car. But, of course, this ran the very high risk of inciting her into a not yet seen manic (and possibly violent) manifestation of her potty person persona.

It eventually became clear to me that this problem was going to require an 'outside the box' solution. Firstly, I needed to get into the mindset of front tenant to try to ascertain what was motivating her to not drive HALF A FUCKING FOOT further into her parking spot. And, secondly, if I were able to 'know thy enemy', what tools did I have at my disposal to achieve a solution.

Upon closer inspection of front tenant's parking spot I noticed something pertinent, even shocking; there was quite a bit of vegetation growing wildly into the parking space. Perhaps front tenant was averse to parking her car on top of plant. Perhaps front tenant actually had a sensible reason for (yet another) obstruction of the driveway. Well, this seemed like a demon I could battle (and win) because, as it turns out, I have gardening tools (and the permission of the Landlord - actually the Landlord's wife - to do gardening). I could clear away the vegetation, and maybe this would coax front tenant's car further into the parking space.

And so Operation Sneaky Gardening was conceived. And a frenzy of gardening did ensue. I gardened my heart out (and, naturally, also put my back out) until that parking spot was bereft of plant. Observe the before and after photos:

the before:

and after:

It's like the parking spot has had an extreme makeover!
Here is a photo of the entire parking spot, showing its full splendour:

Here is a photo of my cat in a window ledge, showing her full splendour (possibly not entirely relevant):

So, after much toiling and lower back turmoil, I went inside and waited for front tenant to come home and park her car (my life is quite the adventure). And park her car she did: ALL THE WAY into the parking spot. Hurrah! And what makes this tale of driveway de-obstruction and wayward flora tamed even more wonderful, is that front tenant doesn't know it was me who cleared her parking spot - presumably she thinks it was the actual gardener - hah!

[Note: Due to frequency of blog posts dealing with front tenant induced driveway dramas, I have created a new Label: Driveway Drama (front tenant)].