Chandri MacLeod (chandri) wrote,
Chandri MacLeod
chandri

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Greetings from the nineteenth century. *waves*

I have mentioned before that we think our apartment was once a crack den. When we moved in the place was filthy, and before painting there was actual graffiti on some of the walls. We've put a lot of work into the place to make it habitable, but some things just come with an ancient building like this one and one of them is the wacky wiring. Whoever installed it was either high or exceptionally inept, as the distribution of circuits just defies logic. The living room and my roomies' bedrooms are on one circuit. The toaster oven, microwave, teakettle and range hood, as well as my bedroom (at the far end of the apartment), are on another. The bathroom and hallway have their own. Every so often, the lights flicker. Sometimes they go out, but this is an old building, and having lived in old buildings before, I know that all you have to do is go and reset the switch.



Lately, the lights have been going out more often - specifically in the living room and the bedrooms. This would be fine, except for two things: 1. The cable modem and wireless router are in the living room, and 2. when this happens, the switch doesn't trip - so when we go to the circuit box, there's nothing to flip to turn the power back on. Just an ominously buzzing circuit box and empty, malevolent darkness. The bottom-floor suite - ours - seems to have been added on last-minute, so the circuit-box is in a little room off the shared laundry room that we call the Hell Room, the back wall of which is sort of non-existent, letting into the dark and creepy place under the bathroom. We don't go in there if we can help it.

So today the electricity went out at about 7:30am. We went to check the breakers: nothing has tripped. The last time this happened, a week or two ago, the electrician told us that the circuit box was just too ancient to properly fix - he stabilised the electricity temporarily and said he had to "track down" another one. We called our landlord this morning around 9am, which was about the time we were all awake enough to notice we had no internet or power in two of three bedrooms - I still had power, but no internet, because the modem was out (calantha42 missed her first class because her alarm clock didn't go off). Additionally, the stove (one-half of one of the the kitchen circuits), when turned on, was making a truly horrendous... I don't even know how to describe it... grinding...? rattling noise? Or more accurately, causing the furnace to make a horrific grinding/rattling noise. At about three this afternoon we discovered that turning on the oven made the living room circuit come on, but the noise was too fearsome to experiment for longer than it took to retrieve our e-mail.

Mostly today we sat around and moped about our enforced Luddism.

The electrician finally showed up at 4pm and made mournful noises about the state of the wiring - whereupon he informed us that he could fix it, but he was going to have to replace the entire box and shut off all our power for about five hours.

We looked at each other - having not had internet, heating, or a stove (electric lighting falling surprisingly low on the list) since getting up this morning, this did not seem such a terrible sacrifice. But Steve (this is the electrician's name) helpfully ran an approximately mile-long extension cord from upstairs so that we could plug in a living room light, Poddy (my desktop), and, blessedly, The Internet. The three of us (myself, artemisiabrisol and the dog) went out to pick up pizza and had supper by lamplight.

Of course the first thing I did was open my LJ client, and here I am. A whole day with no internet. *clings*


As of about five minutes ago, though, Steve has re-united us with our electricity and the twenty-first century. Our stove will remain broken until tomorrow when Steve The Electrician (as opposed to Steve The Wraith) returns with the proper breaker.

In other news, we are now a canine household! We picked up artemisiabrisol's dog from the shelter last Friday. Meet Pekoe Brown.




According to the shelter people, Pekoe (like the tea) is apparently a "young adult," or "about a year old," but we're thinking she may be somewhat younger than they thought. She's a little gangly, her feet are enormous, and she is just full of energy. She enjoys rolling over, skidding on her bum, and standing on her head. (Videos forthcoming when we can catch her at it in a timely fashion.) She's supposedly an Aussie Shepherd/Border Collie, but of course as a shelter dog it's their best guess. She's got some bully characteristics like her brindle coat and her jaw, as well as (calantha42 tells us) the way she walks. But whatever. She looks a little like a tiger. :)

Pekoe and Danny (calantha42's cat) are in a state of detente. When asked his opinion of these changing domestic immigration policies, Mr. Gibson said:



Pekoe, who tested well with the feline persuasion at the shelter, could care less that Danny's a cat and simply thinks he's fascinating, whereas Danny has made his opinion of Pekoe as Filthy Usurper abundantly clear. Since yesterday, we have progressed from Status Red: Cat Sits On calantha42's Bed, Hissing, While Dog Makes WTF Faces From The Carpet, to Status Orange: Cat Sits On The Loveseat Muttering Vaguely Threatening Imprecations While Dog Hides Behind The Table. Pekoe seems to be well and truly cowed by the Grouchy Hissing Thing, and earlier today chose to escape the living room by leaping over the back of the couch rather than circle around the loveseat, close to the cat. This shouldn't be as funny as it is, but hey. We're only human.

Tomorrow, Pekoe goes for her first vet visit since being spayed (last week), and as her mum is going to be at school, I'm taking her. After that, I have a job interview! Evening data entry at a company that does searches for missing heirs in legal proceedings. It's data entry, involves geneology, and is within walking distance. Three of my favourite things! I will miss spending all day on the internet, editing books with no visible deadlines, and never putting on proper pants, but alas, all good things must come to an end.
Tags: irl folk, job, life, pictures
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