The Fat Ogre Has Sung

It might be Canada Day to many of you, but from here on July 1 will forever be Ogre-Freeday to me. I am open to anthems and slogans and cards that celebrate this momentous occasion. Bottles of champagne and schnapps and bourbon are also welcome.

The Ogres, of course, did their best to drag out the process of leaving, and at 1am last night they were still drinking bad beer, littering the sidewalk with cigarette butts, and hauling ugly furniture out of their lair and into the rat-hole apartment next door where their Skanky Daughter had skanked with her mouth-breather boyfriend.

In truth, this was half the fault of Skanky Daughter, who only arrived with her moving van at 11pm. I guess once a midnight mover, always a midnight mover. (My Snitch tells me, by the way, that Mr.Ogre calls his own daughter The Skank--charmed, I'm sure.)

This morning, once the coast was clear, I entered their former lair (heretofore known as MY HOUSE) and was shocked at how reasonably unfilthy it is, but there were a few surprises. How could this story really come to an end without a few surprises?

First, I couldn't get in because Mr.Ogre stuck a pvc pipe into a hole in the basement ceiling that acted as a barrier to my opening the door. What for, you ask?

Spite, I answer. After a few tries, I managed to get into the front door and I pulled out this pvc pipe, a good 3 feet long. One might assume that this pipe was there for some practical reason, but really, all it did was stop the door, and it had never been there before.

Once inside the previously verboten basement, I noticed the Ogres had taken every stitch of their junk, but managed to leave behind their cats. The black one called "Blacky" was huddled between my lawn chairs (yes folks, I will now have my lawn chairs back, and my bicycle, and my sanity which was also trapped in the basement), and when he finally saw fit to skidaddle out the back door a second black one and a striped one followed his lead. Thus ends the Reign of Terror of the Ogre Clan and their Familiars.

Finally, when I was back in the apartment, plugging in a sadly inadequate air-freshener, hanging a Buddhist lampshade, and looking around trying to decide what the hell I'm going to do with MY HOUSE, Mrs. Ogre ascended the stairs looking for Blacky. I told her he'd hit the road with his two buddies to score some blow, and then we had an exchange that was not altogether evil.

I had dreamt of Mrs.Ogre several times in the past months, dreams in which we'd patched things up and all of this misery was erased. This part I did not tell her. Truth is, I'd always liked Mrs.Ogre a bit, and she and I would have been able to compromise--she wanted to. But Mr.Ogre stood in our way. I guess she knows somewhere in her swampy heart that although she has to live with that beast, I don't (and the specimen to your right is handsome compared to the Ogre formerly known as my Crappy Tenant).

I did tell her I was sorry things turned out the way they did, but it was simply not possible for all of us to live under the roof of MY HOUSE. I didn't mention that her Skanky Daughter still owed me money for the fridge she bought/stole from me. I was unfamiliar with the ways of Ogres back then, and I now accept it as a lesson: No dealings with Ogres, ever, never, ever. I also told her I'd always liked her and didn't want to be enemies. She didn't respond much, which is to be expected from her species. But it was good to get it out there so hopefully everyone can move on. Then I reimbursed her final 3 months of rent, she gave me keys that will be useless as of tomorrow when the locksmith changes the locks anyway, and we hopefully can become neighbours who mind their own business.

Tomorrow the 8 foot fence goes up, MY HOUSE gets cleaned, and I start figuring out how to fill all this extra space. A pretty houseboy is the first thing on my list.

In the meanwhile:

Hail Hail Ogre-Freeday!!!

Come on people, sing with me!!!

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.

Day of the Dead Ogres Quickly Approaching

I know it ain't over until the fat Ogre falls over, but I can't help but feel a little giddy in the lead up to my hearing at the Regie on Friday.

For the last few weeks I (Lovely Lady) have been busy preparing my case for ridding my charming blue house of its resident evil. I sent the Ogres a letter, informing them of my intention to repossess their stinking apartment and make it into something habitable by humans.

They, of course, in obstinate Ogre fashion, said NO. What? Did you expect Ogres to suddenly turn into reasonable, lovely & understanding people? Do you think Global Warming is a myth, Bush is a good
president, and Canadians belong in Afghanistan?

I will say that their NO came without ribbons, came without tags, came without packages boxes or bags!! Not even a grumble, but it came just the same. Right before Christmas, amidst the horrible glow of their terrible decorations, their refusal to leave arrived. So the ante was upped, and early this month I started the process for a hearing at the Regie, hired a lawyer, and got all my little ducks into a neat little row. For any of you currently living with an Ogre problem, or who may experience one in the future:

1. Get floor plans drawn up that show all the changes you will make once the Ogres are expelled (an itinerant anthropology student/former production designer should do the trick).
2. Get an estimate for the work to be done from a charming and handy carpenter (who happens to be my neighbour).
3. Get a city permit that approves all these changes.
4. Get your dog's file from the vet proving that he has a limp and thus must avoid walking up and down stairs held up like a suitcase by a strap .
5. Keep a positive attitude (no buts, ifs or maybes) no matter how many doubting-Thomases are around feebly wishing you luck.
6. Act like it has already been decided in your favour (today I was looking for curtains and curtain rods--it's a start).
7. Make lots of deals with the gods anyway. Whatever gods you like, the more colourful the better.

The hearing is on Friday, February 1st at 2pm. My horoscope assures me that this is a good day for such things. Read it and weep (or rejoice, depending on whose side you're on, and if you're reading this, I assume you are pro-Lovely Lady, anti-Ogre):

Your home life has a few ups and downs, but you are about to get an important cosmic boost on one of the year's rarest and most lovely aspects, due February 1, although you may feel the benefits sooner, on January 30 or 31. Jupiter will conjoin Venus in their bewitching annual meeting. Since Venus naturally rules your 4th house of home, you can see a breakthrough in regard to domestic, real estate, or family-related matters at this time. This day is worth four stars, so although technically this day falls on February 1, I want you to know about it now. It truly sparkles!

Now just one minor glitch. My Sweet-Talking-Lawyer-Lady might not be able to make the hearing, which would mean a postponement, and more waiting around for the final word, plus the loss of a 4 star day. The Regie was so quick in giving me a hearing, that she is booked for another case in the morning and might not make it on time. This would not be exactly tragic, but it would kinda suck .

The only thing less sucky about it is that it would prolong the Ogres' anxiety, though I am told by my Snitch that they know their days are numbered and are already beginning to pack!! And you can only imagine what a gargantuan task it will be for Ogres to clear out a lair with 24 years of Ogre crap inside it, and that's not even including the scary basement.

They have, however, told the Snitch that "It's gonna cost her a lot of money!" Snitch has offered to go in and take photos of the premises, of all the fixtures and walls and windows as proof of their state of relative repair. He wouldn't put it past them to break and steal and soil things out of spite. Also, apparently, skanky daughter next door has already decided to leave her $375. apartment, so the next phase of the Ogre-ridding campaign is to make sure they don't move in there, downstairs from the Snitch, next door to me. Here is why Snitch is helping me (other than my Loveliness):

Having them under me again just well, frankly, makes my heart sink...vibrating music, decorations, flags, the backyard turned into a junk heap (less space without your basement), plastic like an Alabama trail park in winters....ugh....grand children from her various offspring running and screaming....ugh...cats, more cats, rabbits and cig smoke (and I smoke) wafting up my staircase and through the floors! NO WAY!

You see, folks, that I am not the only one around here who is anti-Ogre. So friends, in conclusion, there is one thing I need from you:

VERY POSITIVE THOUGHTS FOR FRIDAY!! THE LAWYER WILL MAKE IT. YES!!! THE JUDGEMENT WILL BE IN MY FAVOUR. YES!!! THEIR SETTLEMENT WILL BE SMALL. YES! YES! YES!!!!!!!

Even if you don't believe such things, do it! I'll let you know how it goes.

LL

All Quiet on the Ogre Front

I've been told that I'm giving Shrek a bad name, calling my tenants Ogres. But like all species there are the good ones and the rotten ones, so why should Ogres be any different. Here is my caveat: I by no means am generalizing or implying all Ogres are evil, nor will I hold prejudice against other Ogres whose path I cross in the future. My angry words towards Ogres apply solely to the ones downstairs. All other Ogres will be considered innocent until proven otherwise.
Especially Shrek.

The Ogres who are My Crappy Tenants have been informed that they must vacate their premises in the month of June. I'm sure swamp hunting will be pleasant in the spring. I expected the walls of the house to shake, Chewbacca howls and growls to shift the floors, and my door to be assaulted by Ogre feet. None of this has happened. It's been more than two days now. I don't know whether to feel worried or relieved. Are they stewing? Are they plotting? Is the explosion yet to come? This uncertainty is taking up too much energy.

Leaving the house has become a problem--I need an Ogre Spotter, a Sentinel to tell me when it is ok to open my door (new lock notwithstanding). This is a royal pain in the ass, but I suppose it is more incentive to get them out, and I am already visualizing the day they and their bad vibes will be gone, along with their tacky Christmas decorations (yes they are up as I type), their dinky lawn ornaments, their ugly mugs.

I don't suppose they will just take this lying down, quietly or otherwise, so in the next months I will build my case for the Regie, diligently, perfectly, calmly. If anyone is a master of Ogre psychology and could make some educated guesses at what their plan might be, send them along. Will they fight to the bitter end? Will they ask me for money? Will they shrug and pack their crap into a 15 foot truck? Will I have to use the silver bullet?

Only the Ogres know for sure.

How to Ogre-Proof a House

I once saw an episode of Oprah where a very smart Mommy had invented a product called Monster Spray, to spritz around the door frame of her little boy's bedroom so that Monsters would be repelled from entering. This Monster Spray was nothing more than a regular spray bottle, with the words Monster Spray written on it, but it did the trick, and the little boy slept peacefully, protected from all the evil that lurked in the dark. Of course, the message here is that most fear is psychological, that Monsters don't exist and can't really harm you. Ogres, on the other hand, are a whole different story.

I had an extended conversation about the Ogres yesterday, with the man I bought the lovely blue house from, who is now (ironically) my next door neighbour. He has promised to be a snoop for me into the yucky lives of the Ogres, to tell me if they are up to something, but not to tell them anything about me.

In yesterday's tete a tete, he gave me a warning. He told me Mr. Ogre was speaking in very angry and violent terms about me, and on the day he receives the letter, I may become victim to Mr. Ogre's uncontrollable rage. "Don't open the door that day if you hear wild pounding." As if... Then I was told of previous acts of uncontrolled rage which included the lobbing of bricks and of men off balconies. Let's not forget the pit-bull owning mouth-breather that lives next door. How does a lovely lady deal with such enemies? I don't think a spray bottle with Ogre written on it is going to help. Suffice it to say, my evening of rest and relaxation was compromised by this new information, which I suspected, of course, but didn't want to believe.

Add to this that the Ogres have my keys. In my first days here, I gave them a set in case I lost mine, something that has only happened maybe once in my life, but of which I am forever paranoid, being locked out of my own home on a cold night one of my greatest fears. So, in fact, other than pounding, angry Ogres-Gone-Wild could let themselves in, storm the castle, kill the Queen.

So today I called a locksmith, and my heightened anxiety is making me consider the kind of high end lock that can't be picked, keys can't be duplicated--which is the closest to Monster Spray that I can come up with for the time being. If you have other suggestions, repelants, spells that I might cast, send them along. The count down to sending the notice of expulsion begins--14 days and counting.

The Ogre Shit is about to hit the fan.