Back to the Kitchen

After one month of having take out food, I started cooking.  I can no longer have another 2 meals straight from Hanabi (Japanese fast food place like the Terriyaki Boy!).  Although I still buy prepared meat dish because cooking it takes too much time, too much smoke in the kitchen and I am just too tired.  

Recently,  I have been drinking Yogi tea because the little tag along with the tea bag sometimes has nice thing to say.  Unlike the fortune cookies nowadays (where do they find the people to write the stupid fortune?).  Yesterday,  on my Yogi tea,  I had one saying " Let your manner speaks for yourself ".  Hummm..... I started thinking about our weekend episode.  Last Saturday rolled around and I woke up happy.  Until, upstairs' punks started running around.  I am sorry to say this but the parents upstairs need to call Super Nanny pronto.  They have no control over their children and these 4 and 7 years old punks  act like 2 Mexican jumping beans.  After one month, I started to get used to the running (no, I take that back,  I would never get used to it) but jumping is entirely different story.  Unfortunately,  this stupid building does not have concrete between floors.  Yes, you heard me.  No concrete!  It is just my ceiling and their floor with a empty space in between supported by some kind of thin steel every 10 feet.  How do I know that?  The upstairs punk's dad was on the board and when he interviewed us at the board meeting, hee was showing us the pictures of what the space looked like so we can be convinced to put some kind of insulation on our ceiling.  We ended up spending pretty dollars putting ceiling insulation in the bedrooms.  If I win lotto, I will insulate the whole dame apartment or better, I will move out of this place to a penthouse so that no one can be above me.  

So last Sat, after these 2 mexican beans jumping around, my bedroom lamp was shaking (yes, the room with ceiling insulation).  I screamed with my lungs out to tell them to cut these jumping around followed with knocking on the walls very loudly like there is fire emergency kind.  That was so ghetto.  Who does that?  but what do you want me to do?  I already emailed the guy upstairs and my non-confrontational husband already called the guy.  And this guy asked us whether he should tell his children to go to timeout all the time.  You know what?  If you honestly want my opinion, I want them to go to time out at the outside of the building forever.  

So, back to the Yogi tea saying "let the manner speaks for yourself".  Then, I was ghetto, but what can I do?  you want me to send them a box of chocolate along with a bottle of wine to tell them how horrible we feel to hear those noise so that they would feel bad and not jump around.  I don't think so.  I was pretty nice at my emails and that did not work.  To treat these Mexican jumping beans, you can't be gentle.