apartment living

I live in one of the greatest apartments. It has vaulted, pine ceilings, a fireplace (gas) its own parking spot, a dishwasher, AND a washer and dryer. For those of you that have apartment dwelled before, you know there is nothing worse than schlepping your clothing to a laundromat, where all the wierd people hang out at any time of day and hover over your dryers. HATE IT.
I have done the unforgivable and painted my apartment, too. They told me I could. (They, being management.) I don't live in a boxy too white structure. It also has tons of windows, and a very nice sized balcony. The balcony overlooks two tree's, and a four way stop that people love to run. I sit out there upon occasion, and count all the close calls. The kitchen is a wee bit outdated, avocado green floor, counters, and refrigerator, but I have embraced the kitchyness of that. Why not?
It is a less than five minute walk to the historical downtown area, or, in the reverse direction, a great park with lots of tree's, a pond with ducks and geese, and a playground for when my nephews come to visit.
So, whats not to like?
The Neighbor factor. CK kind of made me think on this. I have no choice but to know my neighbors. There are only four apartments in this complex, so its not so complex (ha ha.) My neighbors are varied, from the later stage middle aged bottle blonde who lives in the end unit, who FINALLY let her husband, the garbage man, move back in with her, to the family in the middle with two boys with the foulest mouth I have ever heard one moment, then out there building a shelter for the outside cats the next moment, then, back to a middle aged curly black haired woman who has a maid, but washes her own car. Huh?
The ones on the end I leave alone. The only time they bother me is when they fill all the trash cans with their beer cans. (yes, cans. Gross.) but they finally started recycling, I'll let them live in peace.
My beef with my middle neighbors is that they have no apartment complex manners. They know I sleep during the day, so what do they give their kids for Christmas? Karaoke Machines, a drum kit, and someone recently took up the clarinet. Now, I love music, but hey! Trying to sleep over here! The karaoke is what disturbs me the most, surprisingly.
Now, the elusive downstairs neighbor. Many conversations with friends and relatives have been focused on her. She snores loudly, loud enough for me to hear. She also is a screamer. (you know what I mean, wink wink.) Half my friends think she is a lesbian. (She isn't. Bi, maybe, but not a lesbian.) She also thinks its ok to tell me that if I am having sex up here, either me or my partner can scream HER name. (Its the same as a major European city.) SOOOOO NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. Yesterday, she had friends over for March Madness, so my attempt at an afternoon nap was punctuated by either cheers or booing. I don't even know which game. I don't care.
She runs hot and cold with being friendly. One night, she came upstairs around 10 pm to complain to me that my cats play too much at night, and because she is menopausal, it keeps her awake. (So, what am I supposed to do, restrain them?).Then, a few weeks later, she invites me to go out to dinner with her. (Uh, No. Thanks. Go Away.)
As much as I love my apartment, I think, next spring, I am ready to move on. To find the perfect rental house. And maybe, someday, a house I can call my own. Who knows? I just know it will be nice to be able to avoid the strange neighbor's I seem to have accumulated here. (And don't even get me started on the neighbors in my old place. Hideous, they were.)