1. I never did say anything about my Halloween costume: I went as Girl Mario. I don’t really have any pictures of it, but it was good enough to win me the costume contest at work. I had the hat (courtesy of Nintendo), a moustache, and my own wardrobe did the rest: a red dress, blue tights, brown boots, and a blue apron to which I affixed large yellow buttons made of felt. I also had sound effects, thanks to a few Super Mario sound drop keychains from my swag box. It was a pretty good costume, considering I rarely play dress up.

   I am also amused that the apron I wore was actually a piece of Diner Dash swag I picked up from PAX. It was double gaming nerd goodness all night long, and having the pockets on the inside meant I could store my sound effects and iPhone somewhere other than my boobs. Hooray!

2. There is no news on the house front. We managed to close all conditions except the financing one, and we’re giving that until Friday – if we can’t find a lender who’ll throw themselves beneath the CMHC bus on our behalf, we have no choice but to walk away. The entire thing sucks, but MJ and Chris are working like madmen to make it happen. I’m grateful, if apprehensive: as much as I love the property, I have to keep in mind the hellish time the seller is having. What if we want to upgrade in 5 or 10 years? Are we going to be unable to sell for the same reasons? I’m a happy advocate of the “head in the sand” method of dealing with potential problems, but I know Ed is really worried about this. It seems silly to me to worry about MAYBE wanting to sell ten years down the road, but it’s a valid concern. I just wish the unit wasn’t so incredible – I’d have a much easier time walking away if it wasn’t so very awesome. So, we’re in limbo. If the deal isn’t done by Friday, it won’t be done at all and we get to begin the hunt all over again.
3. I called our landlord this morning to let him know what happened last night. I’m almost disappointed that I won’t be home until late tonight – I would love a confrontation. Ed and Josh keep telling me not to provoke them, but I can’t help poking the angry bear with a stick – it’s just so hilarious! The bear is so drunk and stupid, and my stick is so pointy! Wheeeee!
4. The rest of my Tofino pictures have been uploaded, and are available for your viewing pleasure.

it's a-me! taken by a-reilly!

eat the mushroom to get big

kings of the mountain

We’ve tried talking to the girls downstairs. We’ve called the building manager, and the landlord – multiple times. Tonight it went one step further, and the cops were called.

They started partying around 10:30, warming things up by singing in their car so loudly it could be heard throughout the entire neighbourhood. The party eventually moved inside, and by midnight, showed no signs of stopping. Ed called the cops at my insistence, then went to bed. Me, I stayed up to watch the fireworks.

Their apartment faces the street, and because they were hanging out their window singing along with Beyonce at the top of their lungs, they saw the police pull up. The music immediately went down, and everything stopped. The cops asked them to open the door, and then the act began.

They’d never had a complaint! They never make noise! There was no party; just the roommates! The music isn’t loud – listen, can you hear it? You can’t! They’re just assholes! They love to complain! It’s not fair – no one has ever said anything to them! I can’t believe they called the police! There’s no noise here at all!

Unfortunately for her, I was hanging over the stairs listening and I couldn’t take it any more – I corrected her, reminding her she had turned the music down as soon as the police arrived AND they’d been spoken to multiple times by multiple people about being FUCKING ASSHOLES in the building. A cop came up to talk to me before I could get really angry and start mouthing off, and he said we should just keep calling the police every time they acted like little ignorant shitheads. In the meantime, the girls were flippant and “charming” at the police, and kept repeating that THEY were the victims – we were making up stories because we have “bitter balls”. I don’t know what that means, but apparently we have them and they are bitter. The cops told them to keep it down, asked Josh and I to keep calling the police if they do it again, and that was that. Soon after, the group left the building to smoke on the lawn. I could hear them talking about us. This is going to be awesome. I’ll be calling the landlord tomorrow, and I almost hope they do it again – who needs sleep when your neighbours are this fantastic?

The very best part about all of this? One of the people downstairs is the MOTHER of the Chlamydia Sisters. Seriously, how classy do you have to be to get drunk with your whorish idiot daughters after midnight on a weekday, making so much noise that the police are called? How proud would you be, watching your drunken spawn try to reason with the police by lying right to their faces? I will never know such joy, but I’m afraid to touch the front door in case their brain herpes are contagious.

I fucking hate those idiot bitches and their douchebag boyfriends. I want the street fighting back.