So How Does it End?

I know that you're probably on the edge of your seat...wondering how "The Telltale Smoke Detector" ends...

So, I write the blog entry and then settle down for the night. All is quiet. All is good. All, that is, until 4:45AM. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. I am at wit's end.

It's too dark to do anything about it right now, so I watch the "Gilmore Girls" episode that aired earlier tonight. By the end of the episode, not only am I wondering how they can craft an entire episode out of the term "Hay Bale Maze," but it's light enough to climb up on the ladder and figure out what the EFF is going on!

Two metallic clomps and I'm on top of the step ladder; my head cocked to one side, listening for the next beep. I use both door jams to balance myself. I wait; I don't have to wait long. Beeeeeeeeeeep.

Curious. It's actually not coming from the hole in the wall (Poe be damned) in the ceiling over the hallway. I step down from the ladder and take two steps into the room attached to the hallway and look up.

I feel like an idiot.

There is ANOTHER smoke detector right there. And THAT is the one that's been giving me all of the problems. I move the ladder, climb back up and attempt to unscrew the beeping beast. It screams at me like I'm hurting it. It won't budge. I'm tempted to just yank the whole thing out of the ceiling, but am already humbled by the call I'm going to have to make to the landlord's brother later today.

I eventually swallow my pride and call him with the "bad news/good news" scenario. He replaces the problem smoke detector that afternoon.

I have my first real night of sleep in a week. And it is sweet.

Here is a visual aid of the problem. #1 is the hole in the wall where I thought the smoke detector was a problem. #2 is the newly replaced smoke detector.

I bet if i were better rested, I'd be more embarrased. :)

Chinese Audio Torture vs. The Sound of Silence

So here is a little peek into my homelife over the last six days...

Thursday night one of my smoke alarms started to beep. Not the adorable cricket-chirp of a regular alarm with a dying battery, but a bit more aggressive. It was about 10pm, so I called my (tall) downstairs neighbor to attend to the situation. Minutes later, Holger, the Nordic (?) neighbor arrives at my door, stepladder in hand. His boyfriend/partner is short, too, he's used to "my kind."

He climbs up on the ladder and removes the majority of the smoke detector. At this point, we both think that this will solve the problem. Alas...

About a half hour later, it starts beeping again. It's almost eleven and I can't bring myself to call the neighbors again. Holger leaves for work at 6:30 every morning (did I mention that I'm a pseudo-light-sleeper and can hear his Jeep backing out of the driveway?). So I decide to bear it. (note the non-use of the term "grin and bear it." There is no grinning to be had.)

All. Night. Long. Randomly. For random amounts of time. The alarm sounds. There are no fires in the apartment. There is clearly something going on. Beeeeeeeeeep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Beeep. There is no method, only madness. It reminds me of when you're getting a hearing test and they play different length beeps into each ear; low and quiet. I don't know how often or how long or HOW LOUD the beeps will be in my current scenario/nightmare.

One night in and I'm already nutty as a fruitcake. I see how sleep deprivation is a form a torture.

It's Friday morning and I'm looney. I call and email my landlord to alert him to the problem. I don't hear from him and can only hope that he has fixed the problem.

I arrive home on Friday night to the sound of silence. I think/hope that he's been the apartment to solve the near-crisis. I revel in the sound of...NOTHING. No beeping, no bleating...just the sound of my cat purring me to sleep.

Pseudo fast forward to Saturday afternoon...beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Oh. No. PLEASE don't tell me that it is starting again. I eventually go out to a BBQ...only to come home to...beeeeeeeeep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. I am beginning to understand the concept of torture. I cannot listen to this sound anymore.

I get an email from my landlord - I should talk to his brother because he is "out of town." I call his brother on Sunday morning. At this point, I am near delirious. I truly and completely understand how sleep deprivation/random loud sounds can throw people into insanity. Eventually the brother returns the call and comes over. I am giggly and pray for the best. He thinks it's an old smoke detector unit. He leaves and comes back 30 minutes later with a "new" unit. (those quotation marks will come into play later)

He replaces the unit. For 30 to 45 minutes, it's pure bless. Not a beep in the house. I turn to the dictionary and look up "False sense of security" and see a picture of myself there. Then, it beeps twice and falls silent. For hours. Into the night.

At 4:15am, the beeping returns. Timing is everything. I unscrew the new unit from the ceiling. I am on the verge of tears and jam some earplugs into my ears and hope that I can hear the alarm go off at 7 am. This is, literally, insanity. I have not really slept a full night in days and am really going nutty.

I eventually get in touch with the Landlord Brother (did I mention that my landlord is in Uruguay?? What the hell is anyone doing there??) and BEG him to come back. He keeps insisting that since the unit is unscrewed, that it can't possibly be beeping. I tell him (again) that this is NOT a figment of his imagination.

Long story short - I come home to the entire unit being removed from the apartment...and hopefully a full night of sleep....

The Finger

You Are a Pinky

You are fiercely independent, and possibly downright weird. A great communicator, you can get along with almost anyone. You are kind and sympathetic. You support all your friends - and love them for who they are. You get along well with: The Ring Finger Stay away from: The Thumb

What Finger Are You?

Tabula Rasa

Creativity is a funny thing. It's supposed to be something you feel - something that flows through you. I am, technically, not a creative person. I am very good with structured creativity, but not that good with the actual creative process. Give me a blank piece of paper and tell me that I can do anything I want to - and I slowly go into mental flat spins and will probably end up deciding to take a nap. Give me a blank piece of paper and a topic, and I can usually figure out something to say or do.

Sometimes - who am I kidding - MOST TIMES, this blog is a blank piece of paper. Sometimes my surroundings give me a topic, but I have found that recently, I've been living in the flat spin/nap cycle. Not just in the blogosphere, but in my own reality. Things have transpired in the last few months that have ended up taking up a huge portion of my available mental RAM space...programs constantly running 'in the background' of my mind. Why can't the human brain upgrade to a Pentium Processor? I'd like to be able to just snap in a metallic chip and have more space for ALL things...

But until that gets sorted out, I'm trying to live through the flat spins. And in the meantime, I have a tremendous amount of respect for those of the people in my life who ARE creative. Whether it's creativity with words, a paint brush, a musical instrument, a voice, or yes, even YOU my pickle-making vixen of a pastry chef...I stand back in awe and admiration of what it is that you all do...with your own blank canvasses every day.

Insert Blog Here

Tonight, there was supposed to be a whole rambling (pointless) blog here...but SOMEONE...who shall remain nameless (H***** R*****) was supposed to give me a topic that I was supposed to blabber on about...but because of HER, all of my fan(s) will be disappointed.

Whenever you're ready, H, just let me know...