Warm Sunday

These were some of the sights seen yesterday while picking up gardening supplies around the intersection of 87th & the Dan Ryan:

Several lifestyle vignettes featuring the newly added outdoor furniture section at 87th & Dan Ryan Jewel; a bistro set was styled with a wine glass and a bottle of Boone’s Farms Blue Hawaiian.

At that same Jewel I was able to find micro brewed beer (Sam Adams) AND Morning Star Farms veggie burgers as opposed to malt liquor and no veggie burgers. Perhaps someone has been listening to my grocery rants after all.

While there is a brisk business trade in the median on 87th Street, the bootleg Newport cigarette guy is new. Normally you can buy anything from a Final Call to bean pies to a 10 pack of socks; tax stamped cigarettes is a new entry into the roster of products. What do you bet that the government will be down there in a quick hurry to put an end to that foolishness?

A very confused looking white couple in a BMW Z4 roadster at the corner of 65th & State.

More enterprising individuals selling “oils & incense” out of a van parked in a gas station parking lot at the corner of 87th & the Dan Ryan while also serving flavored sno-cones and slushies.

And my personal favorite:

A Plymouth Voyager mini-van with spinners.

You seriously cannot buy this type of entertainment. I love the south side

I Just Can't Make This Stuff Up

I know this is a blog where you can read about the dangers of bootleg developers and apathetic neighbors but I've happened upon a gem I've just got to share.

Apparently it's all about the pussy power!

I shit you not, Alexyss K Tylor is my new fucking hero.

The Yo

Bias and racism are still very much alive in the Chicago real estate market.

I know it makes people uncomfortable to acknowledge the 800 pound gorilla but ignoring it won’t make it go away.

That’s why the kids at YoChicago are so refreshing.

Now in the interest of disclosure, they did a little blurb about this blog a while back.

That still doesn’t negate the consistently superior work that the Yo does covering all of Chicago neighborhoods.

And when I say all of Chicago’s neighborhoods---I mean ALL of Chicago’s neighborhoods.

Not just the north side.

You see my funky friends if you look at corporate relocation periodicals and moving guides you’ll notice the Maginot Line drawn about at the South Loop with Hyde Park as the lone beacon of civilization on the south side.

But that’s only if you’re an egghead academic and have to be there.

Apparently there is only a small sliver of the city that’s acceptable to live and play in. Therefore those neighborhoods are the only one’s that garner the lion’s share of positive media attention.

Those kids at the Yo seem to think differently about that.

While time---and let’s face it, laziness, prevent me from schlepping around most of this beautiful city; those saucy kids at the Yo do all of the work for me so I don’t have to get up off of my Chipotle soft taco eating ass.

More to the point, I love the fact that the south side and west side gets as much play as any of the premiere neighborhoods to the north and east.

In fact, my perceptions about Austin were changed by the lovely homes I saw in a video entry.

And that interview with Dempsey Travis was priceless.

Now that doesn’t mean I’m gonna rush right out and move, but I’d love to hop in my gay boyfriend’s SUV and house shop affordable Victorians.

We need to plan for our dysfunctional marriage and co-parenting our turkey baster baby with his husband of 16 years.

Such is the knowledge that the Yo imparts.

It seems that the Yo is taking those oft held beliefs about the south side and those of us who choose to make our home here and are smashing them to pieces.

It’s about time.

Maybe This Is Why I'm Surrounded By Gay Men

In a million years I never would of believed the dream would come true.

They're mounting a Broadway production of the movie Xanadu!

God I'm so excited! I'm so selling my Bear's tickets to raise money for a New York trip.

Why does this shit always happen when cash is tight?

The Rich & The Infamous

Since the weather was so nice yesterday, a friend and I took a slight detour to indulge our house envy near our respective ‘hoods.

As you know I live in Woodlawn and he living in Washington Park so before our little trip up to the north side, we decided to split the difference and look at those super groovy mansions in Kenwood.

Note: While single families in Hyde Park are expensive; I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that you need your last two year’s tax returns and W-2’s to walk down the street in Kenwood.

It’s a touch pricey.

My friend pointed out the home where Black Islamic leader Louis Farrakhan resides as well as other properties owned by the Nation of Islam.

While the neighborhood is beautiful, the architecture and landscaping on the five properties wasn’t my cup of tea. It didn’t look like it fit in with the Victorians in the area.

Then of course the hard looks were we given by the Nation of Islam’s 24 hour, 365 day a year resident security presence on the street outside of the main residence didn’t really encourage drive by browsing.

Let’s suffice it to say that you’d rather get arrested by the Chicago Police than play a game of tough guy with these very serious, heavily (and legally) armed, dour gentlemen.

If you are lingering in the street without a clear destination or linger just a little bit too long, they will trot right over and ask you your business. More importantly they’ll ask you to move---and they mean right now. Not a minute from now.

I love a well dressed man---don’t get me wrong---those guards I saw yesterday were smokin’ hot .

But that whole not drinking, woman subservient cover my head thing just isn’t in my personal game plan---no matter how hot the man.

We wisely (and quickly) drove on.

Then we saw the house where the big dog lives.

Sen. Barack Obama’s hot ass Victorian mansion is the bomb diggity.

Apparently his books sold briskly ‘cause that pile of bricks ain’t cheap.

His house is beautiful and that is an understatement. Then of course I’ve always been a sucker for a wrap around porch.

I would have loved to drink in the beauty of that gorgeous house a bit longer but apparently the Senator has his own security parked across the street.

They're called the Chicago Police Department.

I would imagine now that he’s declared his presidential candidacy he’s eligible to received Secret Service protection to his person, his family and his house.

Now while I saw the blue and white across the street, I’d think it’s pretty safe to assume that the men in dark suits and driving dark sedans weren’t too far away.

After all you don’t want to let your home envy get you thrown in the slammer.

Bad Sign

My mortgage person is missing in action.

After the appraisal flap, I take no news as bad news.

None of you have any idea how much of a serious monkey wrench has been thrown in my personal financial plans.

I anticipate my monthly mortgage payments will go up another $300-$400 dollars a month until I can find a new deal.

While I’ve started working on another lender, I’m battening down the hatches to prepare for the upcoming storm.

I should be able to ride it through for a month or two but if it’s extended for a longer period, I'll be in trouble.

Additionally, the mortgage adjusts every six months so God only knows how high that bad boy will go.

I’ll tell you one thing---I have no intentions on finding out.

Let's all keep our fingers crossed.

Disappeared

It was like the Lord High Executioner had fallen off of the face of the earth.

Ever so often I would call and e-mail about some slowly moving business that we had discussed but this time my messages went unanswered.

So I called and wrote numerous times.

No response.

Then I started calling Buford Pusser.

At least I got a voice mail back. The subsequent game of phone tag yielded the same results.

So then I started calling the Lord High Executioner’s cell phone number.

In retrospect he may be kicking himself for giving me that information.

I also asked a friend who works in the law department for the city what the deal was---why was the LHE so hard to get a hold of?

My friend gave me the skinny---the LHE got transferred over to the Building Department to help those kids out while they’re ironing out their problems.

Within 24 hours of hearing that news, The Lord High Executioner himself called & left me a message.

I was being handed off to another person within the law department.

While it’s nice to know the love is still there ( I think?) I now have to start from scratch with the new guy.

When he called me yesterday, I suggested that he start reading this blog.

You loyal readers know that everything that’s been going on simply defies a two or three sentence description. I mean who would believe it?

I pray that the new guy will be as helpful as the LHE.

Oasis

I’ve hipped you to the deal about the food desert.

I was devastated when Cub Foods closed.

Frankly if it weren’t for Peapod, I would have starved to death by now.

It would appear that my fellow south siders in zip code 60615, 60616, 60637, 60643 & 60653 are in on the secret too.

In an article published in the April 1st Chicago Tribune, Peapod deliveries to those zip codes have dramatically increased since 2002.

I was a huge fan of Peapod when I lived on the north side but when I moved south of Madison Street I became persona non-grata.

That’s when I discovered Cub foods and made the trek to purchase my groceries. I mean if the same person with an established account can’t get the love, I interpret that as my money’s no good.

So I boycotted them for a few years.

Now I’m not sure when Peapod changed their tune but we went back on speaking terms about a year and a half ago.

These days if you don’t place an early order for your grocery delivery, you’re screwed.

As I read the article several things stood out. I liked the fact that the following trend was identified:

“More than half a million Chicagoans live in a food desert, according to a study conducted last year, but a new analysis by the study's author, done at the request of the Tribune, underscores what Peapod users already know: Not everyone in a food desert is poor.”

“Of the 203,369 households in the desert, clustered on the South and West Sides, 31 percent have an annual income of $50,000 or more, study author Mari Gallagher found.”

Well duh.

I'm not rolling in the big dough but I have a few pennies to rub together (sometimes).

Shopping in the 'hood is not only frustrating but in a way highly entertaining.

I'm used to people looking at me like I’m some kind of freak when I ask for the refrigerated pesto?

Morningstarm Farms veggie burgers? Fugetaboutit!

Can a sister get some brie up in this bitch?

Probably not.

You'd think all south siders (read: black people) consume is Yoo-Hoo & Pork Rinds.

Progress On Dorchester

The top photo is an update of a previous picture I posted in February.

While it's great to see new construction in the neighborhood, I personally think the design and facade choices leave a little bit to be desired.

It's going to be interesting to see how that property will be marketed.

The bottom picture is the brand spanking new project that broke ground a few weeks ago.

They're moving so fast on the construction, that the second story is literally going up as I write. In fact, their moving so fast I have yet to see any permit information posted about the project.

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

It’s difficult to realize that despite all of your hard work, that there are some things you just can’t control.

Such is the way of the foreclosures in my association and on my block.

Despite the fact the process started over two years ago, the repercussions of those foreclosures linger like a bad stench.

I was surprised to see a much lower value for my unit once the appraisal came back last Thursday afternoon.

I cursed the name of the former owners in our association who only seemed to care about their bottom lines and nothing else.

After gulping down that big glass of haterade, I rallied the forces of good and countered with supporting comps of units that weren’t exactly like mine but provided a basis for a much higher appraisal.

An extra $40,000 is nothing to sneeze at.

As of this writing, the appraisal department has the paperwork and will render a decision in the next day or two.

That still leaves me and any other people in my association who try to refi or sell in a hell of a predicament.

Do we accept shit comps from someone who can’t even pull values from around the corner? Do we fight it and hope for the best or do you lower your selling price (and grab your ankles) as the market is still very much tipped toward the buyer?

So like the nice article said, do some homework prior to plunking down your hard earned cash for a place.

If you’ve got a high number of foreclosures and investors with rental properties you may want to steer clear or have a diamond in the rough. It all depends on your outlook.

Let’s say you’re only going to stay for a short while or you’re not the type who’s not into community involvement.

My suggestion would be to head for the hills.

You’re the type of person who wants a ready made hood. A neighborhood with bright young things strolling the boulevards, people with good dental plans, shopping, nightlife and all of that jazz.

And if you have the money, and some do, head for one of the many neighborhoods in Chicago that will fulfill your urban desires.

But for those of us with Tiffany wishes in a Jewelry Exchange world, we have to look elsewhere.

If you are the type who can make a dollar out of fifteen cents and plan on staying put five years or longer, an “emerging” neighborhood may be for you.

You may not have the fabulousness of the ready made hood and you won’t have grocery store anywhere around you, but eventually you will be thought of as the forward thinking type as you had enough foresight to see potential.

Kinda like Gloria Estefan before Emilio got to her.

After all, anyone with money can buy fabulousness; it takes a special breed of person to make fabulousness.

You, my urban pioneer, can consider what type of new construction is (or may be) happening in the neighborhood over the next few years.

While prices may be depressed now, in a year and a half to two years, its gonna be a whole new ball game.

How so?

For those of you who don’t know, real estate appraisal comps are comprised of what has recently sold in your neighborhood or in my case my building and my neighborhood.

Because of the low selling foreclosures in my building (a 2 br for $108K), and three other low selling foreclosures down the block (on average $130K a piece) I should have anticipated that I would have trouble.

Had my appraiser simply taken into consideration the recent sales of the condos around the corner I’d have a whole different ballgame.

Now I don’t have all of the bells and whistles that the units around the corner have (stainless appliances, granite, half bath or parking space) but according to a friend’s calculations that should of only knocked my appraisal down $20,000---not $55,000.

But on the bright side when the proposed developments behind me either get built or sell, real estate in east Woodlawn is quite literally going to go through the roof.

That will take about two to three years to happen, but I’m not in a hurry.

I’ll simply continue to make improvements to my unit so it can be on par with my new neighbors.

If You Don't Believe Me...

If my examples of our condo's growing pains with investors haven't been enough, perhaps you'll believe it from our friends at YoChicago.

The Appraisal

There's a reason why all of the little things matter.

High foreclosure rates paired with too high a number of rental units equals appraisal disaster. At least it did for me when I got an appraisal last week as a part of my refi of an ARM mortgage.

You see I was one of those people who actually paid attention to the fine print.

I actually knew that my mortgage payment would be adjusting in May and didn't want a $350 surprise when I went to pay my June mortgage.

So I investigated rates and the like with my current mortgage holder, decided that they were smoking crack as there terms were nutty; and choose to look elsewhere for reasonable financing.

I found a lender (my bank) and everything has gone through with flying colors until we hit a small stumbling block called the appraisal.

The appraiser and I don't exactly see eye to eye on the value.

In fact, there are 55,000 little reasons why we're not seeing eye to eye.

I know you're asking yourself, Woody---what the hell? How in God's name could there be that much of a disparity in what you think your unit is worth vs. what an appraiser thinks your unit is worth?

At this time and in this place the value of some Woodlawn real estate isn't too bright.

The real estate chickens have come home to roost. Foreclosures seem to haunt those of us who continue to live in a neighborhood long after the banks have taken over the properties.

My New Best Friends

It looks like my association isn't the only one who's being (been) shafted.

Apparently some of our north side neighbors who bought into the development at 156 West Superior paid a lot more money for what they deem as questionable work.

Allegedly the developer isn't being very responsive. So they've decided to (legally) take matters into their own hands. They're fighting back with a little website devoted to airing out their problems.

It even has awesome captioned pictures!

Viva La Resistance!

The Note

Our door troubles are seemingly resolved---at least for the time being.

After yet another mysterious latch problem and a discussion with a fellow board member who also lives in my building, I posted a note in the foyer.

In short the note said to stop screwing with the latch. It’s a security issue AND if you get caught, you’ll be financially liable for destruction of association property.

To the best of my knowledge, the latch drama has been reduced to zero.

Our lovely door has been in perfect working order ever since.

Apparently secure doors---not tall fences---make good neighbors.

Slow Grind

The city has finally responded to my cab driver complaint I filed earlier in the year. This letter came in the mail on Saturday:


To: The Woodlawn Wonder

Re: Complaint SR Number07-0000XXXX

This letter is an update of the Department of Consumer Services’ investigation of the taxicab, taxicab driver or taxicab company you reported for investigation.

Based on your complaint affidavit and the Department of Consumer Server (“the Department”) investigation, the Department filed charges against the taxicab, taxicab driver or taxicab company for violations of the Municipal Code of Chicago at the City of Chicago’s Central Administrative Hearing Facility.

If the Respondent(s), the taxicab, taxicab driver, or taxicab company, demand a trial the Department will notify you of the scheduled trial date and time. You will be notified by mail, phone call and or e-mail or the trial date, time and location. Your testimony is essential for an effective prosecution of the Department’s case. You will have the option to testify by phone or in person at the trial.

If the case does not progress to a trial you will still be notified of the outcome of the Administrative hearing proceedings. Possible other outcomes are that the Respondent(s) plead liable to the charges OR that a Default Order is entered against the Respondent(s) for failing to appear at the initial hearing.

If you have any questions, feel free to contact me. Please reference the above listed complaint SR number in any correspondence with this Department.


It sounds like someone is about to get sat in the corner for not playing fair. Updates will be forthcoming.

The Door

Someone is being an asshole.

Someone is being an asshole and pissing me off.

For the past two months, the lock on our front entrance has either been disabled or not working properly.

As a result the door won’t latch and is left unlocked for days at a time. Oh yeah, you heard me correctly---days at a time.

Now I love Woodlawn, but there is a reason why we have locks on our doors.

As a security conscious type of broad this hasn’t been sitting too well with me.

All it takes is a woman with cold feet or some other nefarious individual and next thing you know we are in the middle of a “situation.”

And when I say “situation” I mean break in or other types of drama.

Now I don’t know about what’s happening in your lives, but I have plenty of shit to tend to all of my own, I don’t need additional drama.

How do I know that someone is intentionally vandalizing the lock?

The locksmith paid us a visit on Monday and put brand new hardware on our door. We even got a nice new handle on the inside that says “pull.”

Tuesday everything was fine.

Tuesday night at 11:00 PM when I came in, everything was fine.

Wednesday morning the lock wasn’t latching again.

Apparently we have gremlins as one of their legion came and unscrewed the lock hardware.

Now either someone has a key to our crib and is fucking with us or someone wants to make entrance to our building accessible to God knows who for whatever reason.

I have very strong suspicious on who’s doing this but I’ll have to let that sleeping dog lie until I can get the proof.

Not only is this unsafe for everyone who lives in the building but it’s costing the association a fortune in locksmith and handyman bills.

Someone has a funky beat down coming.

Food

Familiarizing herself with her surroundings, Patty Cake went to a few local grocery stores in search of a place to pick up a few items if she ever ran out of something.

She was amazed by the lack of nutritious food.

She saw no bottled water, fresh fruit or vegetables----milk that wasn’t flavored?

Fugetaboutit!

“Woody all of the food is shit. It's high calorie, high fat junk food. There’s nothing in these stores to eat.”

I just looked at her.

What was I supposed to say?

The ‘Cake lives in a food desert.

The nearest “real” grocery store that I could think of is The Jewel at the corner of 76th & Stony Island.

Note: a “real” grocery store is a store with fresh produce, meat and milk. Not one who’s entire shelf space is stocked with flaming hot cheetos, yoo-hoo and hog head cheese.

The Jewel was over 12 blocks west as the crow flies.

Now for Patty Cake that isn’t a big deal as she has a car and can strap Baby Cake in the car seat and go about her business.

For those of us who don’t have a car or a willing chauffeur, public transportation is the only other option.

Let me tell you that keeping your perishables cold while waiting 30 minutes on a bus during a sweltering day can be a bit challenging.

Good luck toting around over $200 worth of food to the crib with sketchy characters mulling around.

But for God’s sake protect the beer at all costs.

Now remember that’s if you can plan a trip to the nearest grocery store and have the wherewithal to drag your groceries home.

At times, some people (read: me) pay for taxicabs or the store may have an in house livery service that ferries patrons back home for a modest fee. Unfortunately due to insurance reasons most of the larger chain stores have done away with this time honored tradition.

So what’s a person to do when they live in a food desert or they’re older with mobility problems or they just live too far away from the nearest grocery store?

They rely on the small local stores that thrive in both my and The ‘Cake’s neighborhood.

In turn their captive patronage is greeted by inadequately stocked, unattractive stores that do little to nurture the neighborhood literally or financially.

Now it’s one thing to charge three times the price for an item and justify it by saying that you can’t purchase at the same rates like the large chain stores, but it’s quite another to take all of your profits out of the community.

You make money off of the hoody hoo but can’t sponsor a Little League Team?

I’m sorry I didn’t mean to go all Marcus Garvey on you kids---I’ll get off my soap box now.

Oft times the unfortunate fact of living in a food desert is that the small independent grocery stores are usually owned by people whose only connection to the communities that they serve is a business license.

Let’s not even get started on the quality of the “food.”

Methinks if The ‘Cake runs out of milk for the baby, it just might be worth the investment in a dairy cow.

At least she’ll know the milk is fresh.

Ms. White Folks

Lord Jesus protect us. There’s a new white girl in town.

Patty Cake has moved to South Shore with her man and her baby.

She was formerly a Hyde Parker but she and her man took the plunge and became home owners with the arrival of the little one.

Loving a good deal and not afraid to be a minority in her own neighborhood, she and her family moved to 76th & Essex.

Do’h!

Child, please.

Patty Cake can literally roll with anyone. She is one of the few white people that I know that will actually live in a mostly black neighborhood and not think that it was odd.

Hell, Patty Cake might even have an afro pick somewhere on her dresser.

While she’s a down ass broad, don’t mistake her coolness for either liberal guilt or an attempt to launch a career as a white rapper. She knows she’s white.

No disaffected speech, no baggy clothes and thank God she hasn’t french braided her hair.

She keeps it real Patty Cake style.

Last Sunday another mutual friend Nasir and I stopped by the Cake’s house for a chat and to see the new digs.

Unfortunately we dropped by too late to see the baby but Patty Cake’s fish out of water stories did not disappoint.

“You know Woody the kids have kind of adopted me around here and shepherded me through these first few months.”

“Ya don’t say?”

Did I mention that the ‘Cake is an educator so she has a natural rapport with the pre-teen set.

“Yeah, they’ve told me to stay out of the Family Dollar and off of Hamilton street.”

Now I don’t know jack about the South Shore neighborhood so I generally accepted this as wise decisions from the tykes.

“It’s like my neighbors have adopted me.”

“Probably.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“To keep you safe. Everyone knows if something happens to you and that baby the police will be all over this neighborhood like stink on shit.”

Patty Cake shot me a quizzical look

“Heavy police presence will disturb the ebb and flow of the streets. No one will make any money. It’s just easier to keep you and the baby safe.”

She then told of how the older women across the street advised her to make a small slice in her city and license plate sticker.

‘Cause everyone knows that if you put them in you window or on you plates intact they’ll both be gone in less than 24 hours.

Well everyone knew that except the ‘Cake.

God bless her.

She also told of the helpful police officers and random people who stop and ask her if she wants a ride back to her car or if she needs any help.

They stare in amazement when she tells them that she lives in the hoody hoo.

As our conversation wore on and we talked on various subjects, Patty Cake would remark: That’s exactly what the ladies across the street said!

I told her that I’ve been at this black thing for a couple of years and might have learned a thing or two.

Nonetheless she was perplexed at why her repeated calls to her management company to fix the front gate had fallen on deaf ears.

I told her the answer was simple, “They think you’re black.”

I hated to tell her that in 2007 laws have changed but many things are still the same.

I further stated that they either think you’re black or that you’re not a very respectable white person.

“Why would they think that?”

“Cause what type of white person would live in a neighborhood with all of these niggers?” I replied.

You could hear Patty Cake and Nassir suck the air out of the room as my last comment caught them off guard

“I’m just telling you how it works ‘Cake. Your best bet is to take you and your baby down to the management office and present yourself.”

“Why bring the baby?”

“To show that your living at 76th and Essex is not the result of a mixed marriage. In my opinion they’ll take you more seriously if they know an honest to god white couple with a child lives in the development.”

Such is the state of things in Chicago these days.

“Cake, it doesn’t phase me anymore when people meet me after they talk to me on the phone---they’re totally expecting a white woman. I just use it to my advantage.”

Speaking the King’s English is not necessarily a bad thing.

When I mentioned to my friend Rita that I was in her old stomping grounds and told her where I was she whipped around and said, “Why were YOU there?”

“Visting a friend”

“I didn’t know you rolled like that over in Terror Town.”

“Oh no Rita, this a friend who just bought a condo.”

“At 76th and Essex? Are you bullshitting me?”

“Nope…And she’s white.”

“What did she do that for?”

I generally took this as a sign that perhaps Patty Cake hadn’t moved to the Gold Coast. From my limited observation I can tell you that Jamba Juice has yet to scout locations close to her house.

In parting I told her that I would visit more often as her everyday life would be better than any admission based entertainment currently offered in the city limits.

Think about it, Patty Cake sitting on a folding chair eating watermelon (no, I’m NOT making this up) with mature black women on a hot summer’s day.

Pass the salt, child. Pass the salt.

Head Scratcher

As most of you already know, the aldermanic races are long over.

While my alderman retained her seat, 20th ward alderman Arenda Troutman was trounced by her opponent Willie B. Cochran. Personally speaking that should have come as no surprise to anyone.

Nonetheless I find it highly coincidental that ground has been broken for what I strongly suspect will be another new condo development on Dorchester.

If you’ve been keeping count, that’s three---count ‘em---three new developments on Dorchester between 63rd and Marquette

Interesting timing, just dumb luck or fate? You decide.

Neville Chamberlain

There is peace in our time---at least for now.

I’m sure you kids were wondering what exactly happened with all of that unmixing business.

After all of that back and forth the bottom line is that my neighbor and I went ahead and got our electrical lines straightened out---I’m the only one paying for and using my power.

The power to our tier had to be shut off temporarily but to my knowledge no one else in the building was permanently affected by our decision.

While I’ve noticed very little difference service wise, my first floor neighbor is happy to report that for the first time in almost four years she can now run her washer, dishwasher AND microwave at the same time.

That sound you hear is my neighbor clicking her heels.

Hopefully my electric bill will drop dramatically. Only time will tell.

So currently there is no drama, no ping-pong e-mails and hard looks given in the hallway.

Things seem kinda normal.

Then of course we do have a condo board meeting tomorrow night.