The Reign of the Terrible Ogres Comes to an End!!!

I WON, I WON, I WON!!! Out with the Ogres, back to the swamps with them!!! Lovely Lady gets Lovely Blue House to herself!!!

The Tribunal decided that I have proven my case and thus has authorized the repossession of the Ogres apartment for my own use. They also decided that the $%&#@! flag, the horrid Xmas decorations, and problems in sharing the back yard constituted "inconveniences related to sharing a living space, not deeply rooted conflict, and reason for revenge." They also agreed that little ol' me needed more space to carry out my work. The Ogres get 3 months rent for their troubles. I can live with that.

The Ogres, of course, still get to live here until the end of June, so it ain't over until it's over, and there is still the question of what revenge they will enact on the premises, and how far they will go, but for now let's rejoice that sometimes things do indeed turn out like they're supposed to.

Visualizing The End of the Ogre Legacy

I've realized during this Ogre War that my mind often turns towards the dark side, the disastrous, towards tragedy, naturally, as if there is no other route to take. Before the hearing I tried hard to visualize the outcome I wanted, the Lawyer Lady showing up on time, the Friendly Commissioner rendering a fair and objective judgment, the verdict going in my favour. The verdict, of course, has not come down the pipeline yet, but the point is that without a lot of will power and concentration, it was very easy to fall down into the some miserable abyss where I would be punished by the universe for all eternity. I blame this partly on the fact that I'm Greek.

Nonetheless, I need to keep creating a positive outcome in my mind's eye. I need visualize opening the envelope, reading the verdict, and smiling, both at the very small amount that those greedy Ogres are awarded, and at the judgment that sends them far from my lovely blue house forevermore.


The apartment next door, inhabited currently by their Skanky-Refrigerator-Stealing Daughter, is not far enough from my lovely blue house for my tastes, and the Ogres are eyeing it because it's cheap and close by and they want to continue to War with me. My mind naturally wanders to all the misery this will cause me should the universe, for some unfathomable reason, wish to punish me so. I can't help but think that this lack of faith in the universe will bite me in the ass if I don't take corrective measures right now. I also believe that we create what we think, so here is my attempt to set my brains straight:


On June 30th, 2008, a truck will park in front of my lovely blue house at 10 am (I would say 8am, but the Ogres like to sleep in, though their anxiety might have gotten them up earlier, bleary eyed and unwashed and trembling in their Ogre boots at the thought of change). Slowly, but surely, they and their Ogre cohorts will begin carrying their crap out the front door. There will be cursing, of course, tears, recriminations. It will be a spectacle, a car crash, a bad movie that you have to watch until the end. They may even wave a hairy fist at me as I watch them from the second floor balcony. But box after box, chair after chair, sofa, bed, refrigerator, 5 cats, 1 rabbit, the truck will be filled with all their worldly possessions.

The Drunken Ass that lives across the street will yell his goodbyes and bray as if the whole thing is a big joke. The Snitch will come down to bid them adieu, flushed with relief that he will not have them as his downstairs neighbours, pleased as punch that in a few days time a funky and pleasant young woman will move in, with whom he will be happy to share the yard, gossip and cocktails. The Skanky-Refrigerator-Stealing Daughter, who moved the day before, will then show up in her SUV to take them to their new abode, and I will watch all three of them drive down my street behind the truck, take a left, and a go somewhere far enough that I don't ever have to see them again. Ok, Ash Street will do. There are plenty of other Ogres on Ash Street. They should be very happy there. Bye-bye Ogres. Y'all don't come back now.

Then the rejoicing will begin on this fine street, sage will be burnt, doves will be released, jigs will be danced, and all of us lovely people will live happily ever after in an Ogre-free neighbourhood.

Ogres on Trial

A brief rundown of what happens when Ogres are asked to play by human rules:

1. First of all they lie. They claim not to have received the Regie's summons. That means that supposedly not one, but two official papers were not delivered by Canada Post. Funny how my lawyer got hers, I got mine, but neither defendant got his or hers. The Commissioner decided we could proceed anyway. Who knows what they thought they might gain?

2. They put forth a litany of complaints, including me entering their stinking lair daily to access the basement (who needs to go to the basement every day other than Ogres?--a case of projection, I say). They also complained that my dog chased their mangy cats, that he crapped in the back yard, and that I forbade them to hang their stupid flag.

One look at said stupid flag and the Commissioner had no more questions for the Ogres.

Of course they brought up my Grinchiness towards the hideous Xmas decorations.

3. They claim they will need $3000 to move their crap, without any proof that this is so. When my lawyer questioned what all this stuff was, they came up with a normal list of things for a 4.5 room apartment. Both lawyer and Commissioner took notes of the Ogres belongings.

The Commissioner asked them if their position was that I was kicking them out because of these skirmishes and they said YES. This may not be a complete lie, but it ain't the whole truth either. That would involve separating the wheat from the chaff, for which there was not time during the hearing, nor did the Commissioner ask me to defend myself against their allegations, though I could not help shaking my head no a few times. My lawyer says that this lack of need for clarification is a good sign that I convinced the Commissioner of my position.

And what was my position? I need an office, goddammit!
And a guest room! And a back yard for my dog, who maybe crapped ONCE in the stupid yard, and the Ogres put it on my fire escape. I presented drawings and permits and estimates and I talked calmly about my need for space, my grant for my new book, my promotion at work, and the fact that it would have not been possible to repossess when I first bought, neither financially nor legally.

I guess in the end it sounded more like they were unhappy living with me than vice versa. Sometimes it's good to shut up and let Ogres dig their own shallow graves.

It all went by very quickly, and I feel a certain post-hearing malaise, however, because the decision, my friends, will come in the mail. Maybe in one month, maybe in three. The sooner the better I say. Lawyer Lady thinks we have a very good chance, and that the damages awarded are the only question here. She hopes I will get away with $1000 (ie. 2 months rent), but it could be more. So keep crossing those fingers for me, and I will let you know when I know.

And thank you all for the emails, the comments, the calls,
the encouragement, and especially for the fairy godmother.