AIR blog #9, Kicking and screaming?

Continued from AIR blog #8

Please first read AIR blog #8 or scroll down to it. This blog is an update.

Saturday

Wow. Even more drama. After the guest in the room to my right created all this self-entitled drama, calling myself and the housekeeper racists because we don't want her doing drugs in the house or leaving the front door constantly unlocked or "entertaining" different sketchy men at all hours of the night, the guest, a black woman, met the housekeeper face-to-face for the first time who also happens to be a black woman. Prior actions between the two women were behind closed doors. The guest didn't know the housekeeper is also black. Last night was the first time the guest saw the housekeeper's face whom she accused of being racist against black people. Reminder, the woman who helps manage this house is someone I respect and am friendly with. The guest had also accused me of being the person who "banged" on her bedroom door about smoking pot in the house when that was in fact the housekeeper. none of the complaints the guest accuses us of is at all accurate, but she complains anyway. It makes her feel good about herself, I guess.

When the guest learned the housekeeper is also black the guest couldn't scream racism, so she tried another tactic.    

The community lights in the housing complex are all out for some reason, and while the immediate surroundings are pretty safe for kids and doggies to play in after dark, with the lights out, no one does for obvious reasons. When the housekeeper, who lives down the street, received a text message from the homeowner regarding a separate issue with the house, it was after dark, and she just happened to be walking one of her dogs. A puppy-in-training. (I think) a German Shephard. A beautiful puppy who was muzzled, on a leash, and very obedient for a puppy. Even if the housekeeper wasn't walking her dog, she for obvious reasons would have brought another one of her doggies with her for protection while walking alone down the street in the dark. So, when the racism card didn't play out for the guest, she then text another complaint to the homeowner regarding the housekeeper and... take a guess... her puppy. The guest said the housekeeper brought her 6-month-old puppy with her as "a threat" and means of intimidation against the guest. The muzzled, obedient, 6-month-old-puppy was, according to the guest, being used against her as a scare tactic. The "threatening puppy" was wearing a vest that read "Please do not pet" and "In training". This muzzled obedient puppy apparently frightened the guest who happens to be a 5'10, 240+ pound black woman. Never mind the fact the guest never apologized to the housekeeper for wrongfully calling her a racist. She did however text the homeowner, "Okay it's not racism because your housekeeper is also black but..." 

That's not an apology, dear. Bless her heart. Treat others the way you want to be treated.

While being afraid for her life around this muzzled 6-month-old puppy, the guest kept referring to herself as "us". The housekeeper is harassing "us", the housekeeper should have never confronted "us". The housekeeper helps manage the property so yes, she has every right to talk to the guest. Besides that, the guest just admitted that while she paid to rent the room just for herself, she's now using the word "us". Admitting that while she only paid for one guest when there are in fact two. It's a common scam airbnb guests do especially when the homeowner doesn't live on the property.

As I mentioned before, I'm friendly with the housekeeper. She's a super sweet lady. She's the, "If you need anything, anything at all, I'm just down the street" kind of person and she means it. Super thoughtful and considerate to my safety especially since I'm the only month-to-month tenant in an airbnb house where the other three bedroom on occasion get rented out to people who have dangerous lifestyle habits and behaviors like the guest checking out Sunday morning. After complaining about the housekeeper's puppy, the tenant then concluded this round of baseless complaints and accusations with, "My check out date is set." Yes. We know. Your checkout date was set the moment you booked the room and acted horribly all during your stay. Bye Felecia.     

Regarding this particular mess, the guest text the homeowner, the homeowner text the housekeeper screen grabs, and the housekeeper showed me her text messages mostly because I'm the one who contacted the homeowner about this guest's dangerous house-behavior to begin with, all of which are against house and airbnb rules, but most dangerous are all the random sketchy men she has spending the night. At the time of the heavy drug use she was only one in the house.

(sigh)

Additionally, the room to my left who complained about the room being small, looks exactly like the photos that are posted. Not sure what they expected. It's a lower airbnb room rate because it's small. When I came to look at my room for rent, I saw all the rooms in the house including the room the couple is in. Because we're close to the Strip, the master bedroom goes for much more than the other rooms. All master bedrooms on airbnb are much higher than the other rooms. Nonetheless, the couple staying in the room complained it's small, complained the room was hot, but left before the housekeeper could get here and investigate. The couple didn't return to the house until 1:30am being louder than thunder slamming doors and stumbling drunk up the stairs laughing and yelling until finally settling in some three hours later. It's Vegas. This happens. So long as they're not doing drugs, vomiting anywhere, or setting the house on fire, whatever. Enjoy your time in Vegas.    

The room I rent isn't on airbnb. The vent on the floor is small. Air doesn't circulate well in this room which is fine during cooler months. For the summer months I bought one of those small yet mighty Honeywell fans and the room has been cooled all summer no problem. The homeowner could have bought a fan just like mine and rented the room out on airbnb, but he would be buying fans after each guest leaves. When I write many airbnb guests will steal anything not nailed down, I'm not joking. I'm surprised the living room flatscreen TV is still mounted on the wall.

Around 10am Saturday morning I left to grab breakfast and pick up a few things at the grocery store. By "breakfast" I mean I went to a local hangout to get an order of fish and chips. Real English pub fish and chips. I don't drink. I order a diet coke, fish and chips, watch TV and occasionally chat with the bartender. Nice lady. As I walked out the front door of the house to go eat, the airbnb guest and her new sketchy looking man, man #3 that I've seen, were out on the patio getting high of course. I peeked around the corner first to see who smoking pot on the patio, like I didn't already know, and saw it was the complaining guest and her sketchy man #3. The guest gave me a hard stare-down and blew out pot smoke in my direction. Gee, how thoughtful. I left to enjoy my morning.

Around 4pm the homeowner asked if I could put out a few rolls of toilet paper. The housekeeper had purchased the next 12-pack of toilet paper for the house and keeps it in my room so I can run TP to the bathrooms when needed which is literally like every fifteen hours it seems. I checked the TP situation last night (early this morning) before going to bed. Two rolls were put out but by 4pm today they both were magically gone. I put two more in. Hoarding toilet paper is so weird. I have my own toilet paper because it's just so bazaar how people hoard it. 

By 7:30pm the complaining guest and her sketchy companion #3 lit up again and started smoking weed. It's literally all she does. Finds sketchy male companions to "entertain" and gets high with them. And she wonders why she's not allowed back in this house after she checks out tomorrow morning.  

I absolutely hate the smell of pot smoke. I hate the smell of sage too. I know why people burn sage but F that. It's just stinky. And because I hate the smell of pot smoke, I keep a supply of Fabreze in my room. Every time the complaining guest lights up her drugs, I spray a goodly amount of Fabreze in my room. Lavender scented. FYI bugs hate the smell of lavender.   

Sunday   

8:41am. The self-entitled complaining guest checks out this morning. Almost two hours and counting. Not soon enough. The complaining guest is in her room, again, with some strange man smoking pot. Where does this entitlement come from? Just follow the rules, kids. FOLLOW THE RULES. The couple in the room to my left followed the rules. They're a couple who paid the two-person room rate. It's not fair to them that they should pay, and the complaining guest doesn't feel the need to.

Additionally, to the people who say, "It's not your house. What does it matter?" Because it does. I live here, hello. It's called pride, respect, self-respect, and courtesy. If you're going to go through life without exhibiting any of those qualities towards others or for yourself, doing whatever you want uncaring of others and their rights, then all those insane Christian zealots who think people suffer because God wants them to suffer will end up ruling the world. God doesn't want you to suffer. People want other people to suffer for their convenience, and those people need to be stopped. Amen. Hallelujah. 

After this complaining guest checks out this morning, the housekeeper has to clean her room of the pot smell and whatever mess she leaves behind particularly in the bed after she "entertained" all those sketchy AF men. Nasty. Utterly disgusting.  

I normally shower around 8am but I'm waiting until after she leaves. I saw she left all her dark hair clumped into the shower drain with zero effort of removing it. Fellas, any time you want to see the real hygiene of women, go look in their bathrooms. In fact, the bathroom should be the first place all people check when dating someone to see how clean they are. By the looks of things, we'll be pulling enough hair out of the shower drain after this rude AF woman leaves to craft a life-sized gorilla. 

Unfortunately, new airbnb members get the benefit of doubt. Everyone has to start somewhere, right? I can't imagine this woman has good reviews, but I get it, the homeowner has a business to run. That said if you're a horrible guest you're one and done. One and done. Bless your heart. 

12:48pm. The complaining guest left without incident, without kicking and screaming. I look forward reading her review. The wonderful housekeeper and I changed the security door codes and its life back to normal or as normal as can be here in Vegas. The couple to my left moved out also - the room was too small they said. I saw their room today after it was cleaned and it's a lot nicer than other smaller airbnb rooms let me tell you. A lot nicer. The housekeeper made it very nice. But the couple weren't happy, so they left. Now it's just myself and the guy in the master bedroom. It'll be a quiet day. Let's hope for a quiet night also.

I guess the lessons here are these:

1. You get what you pay for. You want cheaper, you get cheaper. 

2. Rules are rules. Don't like the rules go someplace else.

3. No homeowner is obligated to extend or accept your stay. You can request it, and they can say no.

4. Don't be a drug using/selling ho in someone else's house. That's what Vegas motels are for.

I'm going to eat my apple and get back to work researching the Biblical history of demons. Doesn't that sound fun. 😏 

Have a productive satisfying day. 

See you next time.

Lisa

AIR blog #8, DRAMA!

Drama at the AIR house. 

(See last blog below this one for reference.) 

The room to my right, the woman who booked for one person but has kept male overnight guests, against house rules, who has also filled the house with pot smoke every day/night since being here, also against house rules, wanted to extend her stay but was told no, and now she's claiming racism as to why she was told no. 

Myself, the woman in the room to my right, and the housekeeper who takes care of this property are all women of color. I'm part Asian, and the other two women are black. I'm very friendly with the housekeeper because I'm a tenant and we've gotten to know each other over the months, and the woman in the room to my right is saying we're both racists against black people. Did I mention the housekeeper is also black.

Tonight, in text communication with the property owner who is Asian, the woman in the room to my right made accusations of racism against the (black) housekeeper and I when he told her no drugs are allowed in the house and that's in part why she cannot extend. The homeowner, who can see on cameras pointed at the front and garage doors all her comings and goings at all hours of the night with different men, and when he mentioned that to her, her comeback was not to address the men but to again accuse the housekeeper and I of racism regarding her drug use in the house. Did I mention both other women are black.  

So tonight, just now, the housekeeper came over to address a different issue with the room to my left. A couple checked in yesterday who said the room was small and the air conditioning didn't work. So, while the housekeeper was here dealing with that, the woman in the room to my right addressed the accusations she made against myself and the housekeeper. Remember what I said about people playing the race/victim card in my last blog, see below, well here's another prime example of that and it got weird.

I was asleep when the housekeeper came by tonight. I woke up when she called out my name through the door to chat, which she knows she can do, I'm always happy to talk to her especially if she needs me for anything. The AIR guest who made accusations about us being racist, saw the housekeeper and I talking and this is where the victim/race card got so weird the guest threw Kamala Harris's name into the confrontation. 

GUEST: "You all banged on my door and accused me of smoking pot."

Because she was. During her whole entire stay, she was.

HOUSEKEEPER: "I knocked on your door and asked if you were smoking. And reminded you there is no smoking allowed in the house because I smelled pot smoke."

GUEST: "No, you accused me of smoking. You loudly banged on my door and accused me of smoking."

This went back and forth for a few minutes.

GUEST: "This is a racial issue. You're racist."

HOUSEKEEPER: "How am I racist against you? I'm also black."

GUEST: "So is Kamala Harris, so there you go!"

What. What does that even mean. 

HOUSEKEEPER: "I don't understand what you mean."

GUEST: "Well it's against black people. The other person who complained in a testimonial is also black and you accused them of doing drugs too."

Well, no, she didn't. That time was me because they were using strong chemicals at 11pm at night. Yes, they were also black, but they were two young black men using strong chemicals that stunk up the entire house at 11pm at night. When they checked out, they left behind a bunch of drug paraphernalia in their room. 

GUEST: "And this is also between me and the homeowner."

I can see the housekeeper still stuck on the Kamala Harris remark, the guest went on with some kind of ramble about long stays being 28 days, not months. No idea what she was talking about.

GUEST: "I'm leaving in a few days anyways. So, there you go."

And then she walked off.

After that, the housekeeper showed me screen grabs of texts between the guest and the homeowner where he confronts her on the more important issue of men coming and going at all hours of the night. Which she completely ignores and just keeps saying we're all racist against black people, including the housekeeper who is black. We're both racists against black people... Us and Kamala Harris, apparently.

But the gem, the absolute gem in the text exchange between the guest and the homeowner was when she wrote, "Someone was in the bathroom snorting coke loudly at 12am or 1am and no one said anything about that. Just about me smoking. So, it's a racial thing. I work in a casino. Smoke follows me home."

You might need to read that text message a second time to fully process it and even then, no idea. Huh? 

And she doesn't work anywhere. She never left the house. Her job, if anything, was entertaining men and smoking dope. And look, I'm not saying her "occupation" is a bad thing, I'm just saying go get a hotel room for that. 

Snorting coke loudly in the bathroom? I blow my nose on occasion. No one was snorting coke... I mean why would they snort coke in the bathroom and not in their own rooms? And did she just admit to smoking pot then? 

In regard to the room to my left, the couple, no idea WTF going on there. Never saw them. Never heard them talking. I was asleep anyway.

And there's a nice guy in the master bedroom. Poor guy. Thankfully he doesn't speak much English. Tonight, I wished I didn't speak English. 

Look, if you don't want to be accused of doing drugs, don't do drugs and no one will have anything to accuse you of. If you're going to pay for one person in a room, don't have two in it. Today/tonight is the first day/night the room on my right didn't smoke pot. I assumed it was because the house is full. The rooms are all rented. OR maybe this is just another backpedal. Who knows. Life isn't that hard. But as I've written before, some people/generations think they should be allowed to do whatever they want without consequences. 

It's so gross that women think they can go into someone else's home to entertain men and smoke dope. Would you do that at your mom's house? No. Of course not. So why do that at someone else's house. 

The classic AIR guest who wants to party and do drugs all day and night purposely look for AIR rentals where the homeowner doesn't live on the property. They think they can then hook entertain men and do drugs without consequences. But this is my home-away-from-home too and I do not want to smell, hear, or witness your party habits. 

Of course this entitled woman is going to leave a review where she accuses all of us of racism against black people. Dang it, Kamala Harris. Why you gotta play that way.  

Have a good night, all. Let's see if she leaves peacefully Sunday morning or if she's going to go kicking and screaming the entire way.     

Sweet dreams.

Lisa

AIR blog, #7, It could be so easy, kids, but no.

Greetings from the AIR house. Blog #7 about what it's like renting a room month-to-month in a house where the three other bedrooms are rented out on airbnb.

Aside from the usual no one locking the front door, the stealing/hording of toilet paper and other house items, people booking a room for only one person and letting their boyfriends/friends crash there too, there's also drugs. There's only one type of airbnb bookers who do all of the above. One. They're the same people who make fun of how others workout in gyms and post videos for content on their social media but when they get called out for it - then turn around and play the race card/victim card. You know what I'm saying. "Victims". That's what is currently going on in the AIR house. 

A week ago, a young woman booked the room to my right for herself but it's not just for her, her boyfriend is staying here also. Typical AIR house behavior for "the victim". Pay for one person but two stay. They both smoke pot in her room all day/night like it's a Cheech & Chong movie when there's a strict no smoking in the house policy, but wait, she's still "the victim" here even though they fill the house with pot smoke nonstop against the rules. Then the housekeeper came by last night with toilet paper because the AIR guests ran out, currently just the two people in the room to my right, they, the couple, went through TWELVE rolls of toilet paper in nine days. Just them. I have my own (everything) and don't use AIR house products. Twelve rolls of toilet paper in nine days. One roll of toilet paper lasts me about five days. The housekeeper, smelling pot, knocked on the young woman's bedroom door and asks, "Are you smoking in the house? There's no smoking in the house." To which "the victim" replied, "No. I'm not" like a junior high school kid who got caught holding a cigarette yet insists they're not smoking. So then "the victim" text the homeowner playing the victim card and cried she was being accused of smoking in the house. (Sigh) It's so exhausting hearing people cry victim who are not. THEN, after all this "the victim" wanted to extend her stay past her Sunday check out date and the homeowner said no. 

Look, it's not hard. If they didn't smoke pot in the house there wouldn't be any problems with myself or the housekeeper. After all, she's the one who has to clean the house and their room after they leave. Take your drug use entitlement someplace else. It's Vegas. Go smoke pot (anywhere!) else. It's fine. Just not in the house. But no. People have to make it hard on themselves. They do drugs in the house, break the rules, and then call themselves victims when they want to extend and are told no. And it's the same type of people who yell "victim" after breaking the rules, time and time again. 

There was a guy in the room to my left. He locked himself out of his room twice in one day. English is not his first language but that's why the homeowner also put 1st grade picture instructions on how to lock the bedroom door when you leave:

1. Picture of the doorknob inside the bedroom. 

2. Picture of big yellow arrow pointing to the door lock on the doorknob. 

3. Picture of circling yellow arrow meaning turn the door lock this way to lock the door. 

4. Picture of an arm and hand closing the bedroom door after them as they leave. 

Is anyone confused? But no, people time and time again still use the lock button on the exterior keypad on the outside of the door. After the guy locked himself out the first time, around 6pm, the housekeeper came over, she lives just down the street, she opened his bedroom door and explained to him how to lock his bedroom door when he leaves. Later that night the guy locked himself out of his room again around midnight. He text the homeowner who called the housekeeper who didn't answer her phone because it's midnight and she's sleeping! He got mad at me even. What did he think I could do for him. I don't have access into the other bedrooms. Like, bro. The following morning the housekeeper came over and let him back into his room. He was so mad he got rude with the housekeeper and then checked out early and left a long complaining review about his experience saying his trip was ruined because of it. Ruined! Good grief, another "victim". 

These young adults are all people of color (p.s. I'm a person of color too but an older generation) and I can't help but wonder how these young people were raised to think victim-entitlement is the best way to live. Who raised them to believe they're always right regardless of how incredibly wrong they are? And when they get called out for being wrong then they're suddenly victims. Who did that?

Had this couple just smoked pot (anywhere else in Las Vegas!) they probably would have been fine. But no, she's "a victim".

It's not hard. People make it hard.      

These young millennials are like my little lab rats. Being the sole month-to-month renter they're in my rented home. I live here. I don't expect anyone to care about that, they don't know, they just come into someone else's home and act anyway they want. However, I ain't afraid of you. I don't know if you know any Korean women, especially any American Gen X mixed Korean women, but our strength isn't how hard we can swing a baseball bat, it's the epic show of strength 100 times a day not swinging that bat every time we want to.   

In one of these blogs, I wrote about two young men (both also people of color) who rented the room to the left of me who were cooking chemicals, acetone, in their room late one night. I banged on their door with a "oh hell no" fury. When they checked out, they left a bunch of drug paraphernalia behind in their room, and one of the two guys called me "an annoying older house mom" in his review. Look honey, I'm 55 years old with over 15 tats. I'm part Korean, menopausal and can turn anything, and I do mean anything, into a self-defense murder weapon. You want to try me - take your best shot sweetheart. It will also be your last shot. Ever. #GenX 

I'm a mind my own business kinda gal, but the moment you push your luck, the moment your self-entitlement goes too far, you'll quickly see how my generation survived in the woods from the age of four.     

To every man who has ever complained about women using too much toilet paper in a week. One roll lasts me about 5 days just fine. In September I bought TWO 12-pack rolls of toilet paper for me and the house, on top of the toilet paper the housekeeper leaves out for AIRbnb people, and all of it is gone. That's why the housekeeper came over yesterday to begin with. To leave more toilet paper. What's going here Millennials? What are you doing with the toilet paper?

At this point I'm almost tempted to boobie trap the house just to see what they do. Nothing dangerous. Just, "Lets play a game" type boobie traps. We'll see how many of these young adults could actually survive a 55-year-old menopausal Korean woman.  

Go, film makers! Make that film! I'll be your technical support. My email is lisakoolv@gmail.com

* I write phonetically. I'm not an editor. If you can understand Dr Seuss, you should be able to understand my writing too.   

See you next time. 

Lisa 

AIR diaries, etc. blog #6

 Oh dear. You know anytime a blog starts off "Oh dear" it's nothing good. 

There are all new people kids in the AIR house. I had to deal with a medical issue and was away for a few days. I returned to all new kids in the house. The room on my right is full of young pot smokers. The room to my left has a young Asian boy in it who might be a special needs kid. I suggest he's special needs to be kind. If he's not special needs, then his parents must not have taught him any hygiene practices particularly with the toilet. I ran into the kid this morning while in the kitchen. He said he liked my hair then started humming to himself. Weird. I said thank you and went about my way (as fast as possible). The kid then went into the bathroom and pee'd on the floor in front of the toilet. And just now when I went into the bathroom, he (I do not doubt it was him) went #2 and didn't flush the toilet. And being an observant person, none of the kids in the house are washing their hands. In two days, the hand soap in the bathrooms have not gone down at all until I came back and used it. I am constantly going through Clorox Bleach wipes in fear of getting some kind of listeria. In addition to that, the kids don't lock the front door which is how home murders occur. I do not doubt one day this AIRbnb house will be on the news as the house where everyone was slaughtered in the middle of the night because no one locks the front door. 

I used to think young generations aren't breeding because they know they can't afford children and are being smart about it, but now I'm actually starting to think I'm giving them too much credit. I don't know which is worse to be honest, filthy adults or filthy children. How are these kids being raised?

Why do none of the good renters stay. WHY. I liked the last guy who was renting the room to my right, although on the last night I was here when he was, he was shuffling throughout the house nonstop at 3am. Drugs? When I go out in the mornings before the day gets too hot, I overhear the neighbors constantly complaining about all the people coming and going from this house. They only know me because they see me consistently. They gossip in Spanish, see me smile and wave, then go back to gossiping in Spanish. 

I'm trying Facebook dating hoping to better the odds of finding men my age. It seems this is where the men folk are being hit up hard to buy girls cryptocurrency as code for prostitution since the apps all got wise to "sugar daddy/sugar baby". Every male profile I see, the men all say, "I will not buy into your cryptocurrency scam." It's not a scam fellas. The young gals are simply saying you're too old to be in a normal healthy loving relationship with them - but hey wanna buy me for an hour a week? It's the oldest profession in the book. Biblical, old.

It's being reported that Nevada is the loneliest state in America. You know why, because the California men who move here as a home away from home, still think they're LA studs in small towns where the women are serious about finding a mate. Las Vegas IS a small town. A very transient small desert town surrounded by a bunch of other small desert towns. You can't mess with the local women in Las Vegas like you can in Los Angeles. For one thing, you don't have the numbers. For another, it's extremely transient. The local Las Vegas women want love and marriage. Only the weekend warrior "Woo Vegas!" party girls want you - for your money. Er, cryptocurrency. Add to that, I don't think men over 50 years of age realize they're old. Too old to be "a swinging guy" without looking like...

Doesn't Chrissy look happy. Pssst, buy more Crypto, Mr Farley. 

PS. Don Knotts is 55 years old here. 

  

It's almost October and it's still over 100F degrees out. Madness. They're wearing beanie hats and Fall coats in LA and we're still hiding indoors by 9am. I need a treadmill. I also need a new coffee/breakfast hangout. I've decided I need to start being one of those elderly regulars somewhere for breakfast. A senior friendly cafe. In less than five years I'll be 60 years old, kids. My hot piece days are soooo over thank goodness. Time to audition for "cool grandma" roles on the big screen. Roles where I get to carry a big gun and say things to men I'm about to murder like, "Come to grandma!"

And speaking of it...

(sigh) Maggie Smith has reportedly died. This one really makes me sad. I love her movies. Many of them streaming now. It's going to be a Maggie Smith movie night. All hail Maggie Smith! 

Have a good day all. Go make something beautiful, cool, scary, yellow, sad, edgy, wonderful. The world needs more art. 

Yours truly,

Lisa

AIR diary, blog #5, (etc.)

Good morning from NOT Zen. *groan*

Early morning at the AIR house. From 3-4am is when I usually get to enjoy the house for my moment of Zen. As you know I rent a room month-to-month directly from the homeowner with the other three remaining bedrooms in the house rented out to AIRbnb and there is ALWAYS one room that is problematic. Always. 

More often than not the problematic renter/s stays in the room to the left of my bedroom. Such is the case now. Without getting political let me just say the problematic renter/s all bear the same characteristics, all of them. 

The homeowner does not live on the property. There are cameras in the common areas of the house like the patio, living room, kitchen, and garage. And because this place is my home away from home while I sort myself out, write, ponder my old age, I take care of the home like its mine. I make sure everything is tidy throughout the day and before I go to bed. Clean. Tidy. Trash taken out. Stocked. Last time I did this was about 8 hours ago and this is what I woke up to. 

(Why cleanser?) Just... unnecessary.

 

Granted, this is pretty mild. Usually, the trash can is overflowing, kitchen towels are all on the floor, and all the toilet paper in the house has been swiped. No kidding. Hording toilet paper is a big thing among AIRbnb guests. Three months ago, I had to scrub urine off the wall. And it's always the same people with the same characteristics. Always. You know trouble when it walks into your business, or in this case your home. The problem room is also doing the thing AIRbnb people do when the homeowner doesn't live on the property, they rent a room for two people (maximum occupancy) but then have their friends stay there also.  

The room to the left of me is cursed. I just know it. Lately the last three occupants were big time problems with drugs, noise, vandalism, and theft. Way back when I first joined AIRbnb, like six years ago or so, I read message boards where the homeowners were bashing TF out AIRbnb guests and I felt a little bad about it. I don't want to give someone my money and have them automatically think I'm a horrible person, you know, but now I get it 100%. The problem room don't give AF how loud and obnoxious they slam a door shut at all hours day and night. They just don't give AF. Throw cleanser on the floor and sink, they just don't give AF. 

I get it mister DeMonaco. I added a prologue to my book where I killed off a politician and now, I'm killing off these two a-holes in the room next to me (in my book of course).  

 

I don't know if other writers have this problem, but I get so aggressive, so into the moment as I'm killing off people in my book, that I slam on my keyboards a little too hard. Few days ago, I messed up one key. Still works but... I just get so into it.

Anyone else have dreams where they're flying? What does that mean? Of all the dreams I've had in my 55 years of life, flying like a rollercoaster going 100MPH is the most common dream I have. I don't actually see myself flying, I just am, looking through my eyes as I'm flying. Up and down, high into the sky and then soaring through canyons, into caves, over mountains, it's amazing. 

Also,

I've been doing some research on why certain men over 60 years of age suddenly just get so angry for no reason, and according to online medical studies, not getting erections over the age of 60 is a big deal for you fellas. Like, why? Bro, you're 60! Let it rest! Maybe not getting erections will help you become the man most women want you to be mentally and emotionally. Speaking as a 55-year-old woman, sex is LOW on my list of priorities. It always was though. Sex was like part of the 20-something year old me Saturday night lineup. If I didn't get too 'faced I might have looked for a fella. Although back in those days I was usually too partied out to do anything but find my bed and pass out.

I'm going to listen to the Smartless podcast now. Howard Stern is their guest. Should be good. He talks fast. I love most of their guests but the ones who talk slow just stress me out. 

Have a good day. Now go, make something wonderful. 😊

Thanks for the visit.

Lisa

AIR diary, blog #4

 There are all new people here at the AIRbnb house. 

I rent month to month in a house where the three remaining bedrooms are rented out on AIRbnb. 

In the bedroom to my right is a nice friendly young man. I think he works here now and is transferring from where he came to now setting up residency in Las Vegas. The bedroom to my left is the problem room. With every new set of guests there's always one problematic room. The person on my left clutters the shared bathroom with all their stuff including makeup, skin and hair care products, which is odd because I thought I met all three people staying here now and they were all guys. Perhaps at nighttime he becomes she? Welp, wouldn't be the first time, eh? Just wish they would take all their crap out of the bathroom (sigh). And in the master bedroom is a nice fella from somewhere-Europe. Poor guy, the glass shower shattered on him yesterday right after he moved in. I felt bad for the housekeeper who had to come back after she cleaned in the morning, to then come back and clean a billion shattered pieces of shower glass all over the floor and in the shower. It was terrible but she did it. 

As temperatures finally cool down, I have the desire to go out, be more social. I am in want of a companion, a partner in life, it's "only" been twelve years since my divorce was final, but more than that, I've been on my own for over fourteen years. They say I've been single for too long to get back into another relationship but really? Is it really that difficult to meet a nice man my age who wants to be in a loving relationship? My best friend. Someone to grow old(er) with. Someone chill. Relaxed. Creative. Motivated. As I ho-stroll the usual internet "lonely hearts" websites I find most men hopped up on angry machismo. Bro, relax, you're 68 years old. No one cares if you can flex a bicep in the gym mirror. We just want to know if you're a good person.

As much as I want to go out and be social at the local bar down the street, I probably won't. All I can think about right now is my book. Maybe Tuesday I'll see a movie. It's $5 movie Tuesday here, or it used to be. The Cosmopolitan used to have $5 move Mondays at their dive-in pool but now it's $15 or $20. Supply and demand, I guess. No matter. I can always stream something. Guh. I should force myself to go out. I'll regret it though if I do. I just know it. How's that for optimism? 

Update on the room to my left. They finally took out all their makeup, skin and hair care junk that was cluttering the bathroom, but then left behind a full sink of tiny curly black hairs. Gross. WHY is there always one problematic room. WHY. Also, because it's an older house the wooden door frames pucker in the heat, then relax in the winter months, and after years and years of the door frame expanding, shrinking, expanding, shrinking, the door no longer properly shuts, but it takes all of two minutes to realize you have to lift the door ever so slightly when you shut it in order for the door to close properly in the frame, but no, instead people just SLAM! the door shut as hard as they fucking can. SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! Bro, just lift the door slightly when you close it. You remember, rectangle peg in the rectangle hole. Perfection, the game. Some folks really need to play it again. Maybe the homeowner should put Perfection, the game, up in the closet in the room to my left. It's 50/50 whether or not whoever occupies that room will get the "lift the door to fit in the door frame" technique. Like, how brain dead do you have to be to just SLAM! the door shut as your only option. And before people say, "Fix the door frame" proving you've never lived in an old house, ever, you would have to alter the structure of the wall. Heat and cold affect a house year after year after year. And we're not talking 90 degrees heat, people. Try 115-120 for three months straight year after year. 

Anyway,

Apparently, Lord of The Rings: Return of The King is back in theaters. It's sold out on $5 movie-Tuesday of course. And really, as much as I would love to support movie theaters, it's hard to when you consider one movie costs as much as a whole month streaming service. 

Movies in theaters are for date-nights and by the looks of things I'm streaming something tonight. Oh, what to watch. 

Have a good night!

Lisa

AIR diary blog #3

 Been busy stomping away at my book. Writing. Re-writing. All was pretty peaceful here at the AIR house for the past week. Last I spoke of it here AIR diary blog #2 all of those people have since gone. Yesterday new arrivals showed up and I'm still confused about the room to the left of me. Their bedroom light is always on. Always. Any time day or night whenever I pass that room the light is always on. It's on now at 3:50am. Weird. I never see anyone going in or out of that room. I have concluded that it's haunted. The other two rooms have new people in them. One of the rooms has a woman and a little child, or a couple and a little child aaaand they smoke pot. Nice. They have a kid and they do drugs in front of the kid. Crackerjack parenting right there. 

At least the last person who came home last night locked the front door. Sometimes they don't. Sometimes they don't even shut the front door. Crazy. I'm so gonna die. Just let me finish my book! 

I was going to buy a small mini fridge for my room but the very nice housekeeper gave me one to borrow that works great. Super thanks to her. I still might buy a toaster for the room. 

The book is coming along nicely I must say. I'm still looking for work as eventually the money may run out before this book is finished. Let me just say, the chapter I'm currently working on scares even me to write it. I've gotten soft in my old age, or maybe I've just gotten that good at writing freaky shit.

I'm from a rather unknown Midwest state called Minnesota. Not much is known about that state publicly I've come to realize except the future vice president is currently governor there, the movie Fargo, and a little myth people call, "Minnesota nice". We're not really "nice" people, we're just super chill. 

Outsiders: "OMG did you know that farm across the road has a slaughter barn!"

Us: "Yep."

Outsiders: "Did you know there still blood-stained tools inside of it like saws and meat hooks?"

Us: "Yep."

Outsiders: "Did you know everyone says it's haunted?"

Us: "Yep."

Outsiders: "Did you know in 1964 a farmer butchered his wife in the slaughter barn?"

Us: "Yep. Guessing that's why folks think it's haunted."

Outsiders: "That doesn't freak you out?"

Us: "Nope. Staying for supper?"

We're just chill about supernatural and/or murder-y things. No idea why. Maybe because we grew up knowing there was a very strong possibility some of us in my high school graduating class may not live long enough to see 10th grade - from dad's letting their ten-year-olds steer while he's drinking, driving and smoking a cigarette, to parents not knowing where their kids are all summer, to 20 below zero winters and ten-foot snowdrifts, to every kid crossing a lake that isn't completely frozen over, to kids all getting guns by the time we're twelve, to that one completely batshit crazy insane neighbor guy with a dozen animal heads on spikes displayed in his front yard who everyone calls "eccentric". Indeed, some of us kids were not going to make it, and we accepted it. 

Movies like Children of the Corn, that's how us kids in the 70's grew up playing. "Let's pretend we sacrifice all the adults to the demon that lives in our cornfields!" Full on plastic animal masks and axes. 

We all saw many unexplained things out in those cornfields. And as we enter my favorite time of year, autumn, the mood of my writing has also gone into ghostly tales of that one abandoned farmhouse and barn that myself, Laura, her boyfriend David, our friend Shelly, and a boy named Adam, used to hang out in. There was a rope swing, just a long-knotted piece of thick rope attached to a ceiling beam in the hay loft you could swing in and out of the barn on. If you let go of that knot swing as you swung out of the barn you would surely die or be crippled for life. It's amazing how many of my friends and I survived childhood.

Back to writing. 

Sun's up soon. Get my walk in. Check on the stray cats. 

Then back to writing.   

Thanks for the visit.

Lisa