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Guest Jaxxy

Noisy Neighbor

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Guest Jaxxy

For the better part of three months, in this new-ish home of mine -- after two months of well-deserved, near wond'rous, relative peace, despite the usual neighbors' stomp-arounds, Movie Night!s, and general fartings -- my next-wall neighbor has been enjoying her surround-sound system. Very much. In fact, she loves it so well, she uses it twenty-four hours a day, all day, and all night. (Ah, it's always so nice to hear of people enjoying themselves, in such a confounding society as ours. Truly! It is precious, the peaceful cocoon of one's home.)

I began with trying to insulate myself -- me, I can never bear to cause anyone else discomfort -- and compensate for (yet) another person's harmful ignorance. I tried to wear earplugs, which did not filter out the low-frequency noise (bass), but did give me a doctor-treated ear infection. (Yes, don't mine squeaky lil' Amy -- she
adored
the losing-her-balances, the heinous chills in 115-degree Summer-desert heat, and having to choke down a week and a half's worth of antibiotics!)

I then scraped my few pennies together, to be the hero who would solve everyone else's problem, and purchased fifty dollar (!?) noise canceling headphones. Alas; these, even currently upon my worried head, cannot cancel bass, either... although they are quite effective at painfully bending my auricles' cartilage. Thankfully -- at least -- I have recently learned just why they cannot. (And, that I am
not
-- sorry, try another
chump
-- "impossible", or
remotely
"insane".)

You see, when a sound wave gets "big" enough -- bass/low frequency -- it actually travels through solid objects. So, while, if I had used my headphones to cut out treble -- higher/normal frequency, like talking, or non-bass music and sound effects -- it would have helped, it did not here. The neighbor's entertainment was shaking me from sleep-and-sanity because its clamor was traveling through her floor and wall, to my floor and wall, soon to resonate inside my very shoes (yes, I
am
wearing those --
painful
, for a woman with Reflexive Sympathetic Dystrophy -- things, too, in my own home) and foot-bones, and activate my inner ear
from within
. (Are there
truly
thinking people out there who do not know this? At least the everyday-everyone observations: "Gee whiz, that huge-assly pimped out BOOM CAR shook my whole self! HYUCK.")

Not putting too fine a point on it -- at all, hard as it is to imagine, unless you have been there, along with your finely tuned musician's, or simply very healthy, ear -- I was being physically violated, for no reason other than one person's entertainment. What did I do? (Completely alone, and in real-time immediate abject terror, mind -- ?)

I kept quiet. (Wow. Seriously, wow... where
is
my parade?) I didn't want to
hurt
anyone
. The landlords, when I moved in, had grimly told me that ONE complaint against a neighbor would get them served with a ten-day-notice to remedy their infraction, or vacate their home. (I can't hurt a fly... especially over such an easily-fixed issue, from which only I was apparently suffering. I wouldn't be able to
sleep
.)

Besides, as people have indicated to me, "The noise is not excessive -- you're just too picky/sensitive/crazy!" Yes, you
bet
I kept quiet, for most of one month. (Sob...)

Then I decided I might do my little "shave-and-a-haircut -- two bits!" rap on the wall, to warn her when it was TOO too TOO too much bass. You see, that way, she would know she was disturbing me, and simply adjust her sound system accordingly. I didn't want her evicted -- maybe she didn't even know? (Yes, yes, a great idea! Oh, this will be wonderful -- perhaps we can laugh, and make friends with one another!)

Well, don't do that, folks. (Nope, fuck 'em.)

An hour or two ago, I noticed a paper in
my
door. It is a ten day notice to vacate, if I do not rectify MYSELF. Actually, I can't tell if I do have an option to remedy -- the "there is no remedy if you have done this and that" bit of the paper served is not specific. (Oh, a fear tactic -- for
me
? What, is it my birthday? Random acts of
terrorism
FTFW! What could be more
inspiring
and
helpful
than being told one's easily-remedied
debilitation
, which is
NOT
one's doing, but, for which one has nonetheless used copious amounts of one's own time and money to discover all possible cures thereof, is
completely insignificant
? Silly-nice-girl-
me
. I'd almost forgotten she was quite without basic -- and PAID FOR -- human rights.)

But, the paper
is
specific with false accusations. Apparently -- because I wrote three or four, in the last few days,
short
-- explaining my illnesses -- notes to my neighbor (with NO cursing or threatening, simply pleading, and
only
when I was, finally, weeping helplessly) -- I am "constantly harassing the complex & its residents". My knocking on people's doors, which I have never done, is, further, "disturbing the peace". (There are, for the length of this tirade, NO WORDS.)

The best part is,
just last night
, when the maintenance man came by to see what was the matter, at my call, he "could not hear much -- even though he heard it -- and wasn't sure he could report it". Clearly it is happening, and if I had some sort of noise-detector, its magnitude would be evident. (But, see, some of us equally-created souls are worth going to such trouble for, but some of us -- the unmonied, especially -- are not.)

In review: I have sickened myself quite seriously (the details of which I would be glad to share, if asked by the non-squeamish), in order to attempt to "just deal with it", because I do not want to hurt anyone else, and because I am loony/oversensitive/whiny. I have spent my not-even-there dollars to fix the noise FOR everyone. I have gone through the normal channels to report the problem. When that failed, I communicated, non-abusively, directly with my neighbor,
only because, and even though, I felt as if I'd finally come completely unhinged
. (Come
on
! -- if my bones and desk are not rattling from nearly sub-aural sound, I have no reason to rap on my wall, and do not. Why would I? I'm supposed to -- and
want
to -- be absorbed in my study For This Website. Oh, and, let's not forget: That clock is a-tickin'! -- relaxing, mm, yes, quite nice.)

I sit. I gape. For I peruse this
threat
, which tells me I have done all of this -- harassingly!! -- because -- unbelievably, I am
also
dead serious, here, as in this entire 'wah, rantie!' -- "NO NOISE PROBLEM EXISTS". I ponder if I should just agree to the lease dissolution, and leave. (Not that I can afford it, health- or money-wise -- is this where we discuss the literal definition of "irony"?)

To think, this is the self-same thing which drove me from my last home, in tortured (ah, yes, noise is used for actual torture, by our militaries and police) tears. Apparently, this "little thing that happens now 'n' then" is not "little", but, from my experiences and research, quite epidemic. (And SO unnecessary...!!!)

I write disjointedly; I am MORTIFIED. Perhaps I
will
go. Perhaps I will charge them for charging
me
with false accusations.
Indisputably
, NO HUMAN
OR ANIMAL
deserves to be gravely injured, ignored and criminalized for it, and subsequently cast out onto the street. (Did I mention that I, in particular, am as quiet as a mouse, studying day-in, day-out, as I do? -- or that, if I got
one inkling
that I was hurting a person, I'd be sad for the rest of my life, each time I recalled it? Well, it's worth mentioning that I pay my rent in a timely fashion -- and do all a dream tenant would do -- consistently.)

So, here I am, with the same core problem -- perpetual, even
right
now
-- enjoying the rush of this life-or-death fear,
for
it. I don't even know what I'm typing -- it feels like I am being raped (no... really, pause there... no exaggeration), when the noise seeps into my brain, as it constantly does, and I have no way to stop it, and
no known recourse for it
. It's been going on for, as I said, months. At this point -- even at this MOMENT, the noise!!! -- I feel like I am being physically molested, with my hands and mouth perfectly freed, only told I will be killed if I
flinch
.

The research -- covering noise-exposed children's lower IQ's, and noise-exposed adults' increased chances of heart disease (and murder -- it
has
happened! -- why would I not be
lauded
for being so peaceful
while
I feel I'm going
mad
?) -- is no less than alarming. Give it a whirl. (But, just so's ya KNOW, I am a fucking criminal, apparently, for feeling myself sicken, and daring to
mention
it!)

The Plan: Whatever-may-be, to NOT be the victimized, trod-upon, "criminal" scapegoat here!! MY peace has been ripped from me, NOT any other person's. I
loved
my home... and the managers, I really thought they were kind, and they said they understood, and said they told her to
unplug
the offending speakers...
ouch
!!! I am blindsided; I am in
shock.

... ahem. If anyone within eye-shot of my rant-heartbreak-desperation has some help to offer -- legal or ANYTHING -- I am ALL EYES. (As for my ears, they are, and will be, enduring both the neighbor's foul poisonings, and NIN's "Closer" in these near-useless headphones, at very uncomfortable volumes, both.)

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Honestly, first thing you should do is see if you can't find some help from Legal Aid or something like that. Because there is no REASON for this to not be dealt with amicably by your neighbor, even though it appears he/she would rather not.

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That is utter bullshit! I agree with DG, you should have some legal steps that you can take. Personally, I would be calling the non-emergency number for the police and make noise complaints. Actually, I have done it. On the right side of me, the house next door has teenagers and sometimes they're blasting mariachi music at 12:00am. To the left of our home, there is a "Wine bar" across the street and sometimes they play their music so LOUD and also the drunken patrons tend to come outside and sing fight songs, do these weird druid chants and just scream because they have nothing better to do, even though this is a residential area.

I guess it will just depend on how the police handle the situation or if you feel comfortable doing it.

Making the police report at least creates a paper trail of complaints against the neighbor and they should be able to keep who called anonymous. I'd also keep a log of the incidents and how its effecting you physically.

While once upon a time, I liked that song, Closer, hearing "I wanna fuck you like an animal!" blasting through your walls is not something I'd wish on anyone.

I wonder if you can get a good recording of the noise that you have to deal with...-scratches head-

You have a right to the peaceful enjoyment of your property. This situation does NOT make your place peaceful by any means. Maybe you can contact the Arizona Tenants association to see what they suggest

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Guest Jaxxy

Thanks, guys. I've sure been crying a lot, even after sleeping on it. But then sleeping on it is always a true test. Here's my tired and wandersome update.

After calling around like crazy all day -- even the manager -- I passed out (but only after 21 hours of being mentally abused and frantic). I woke in my bed, and I was afraid to leave it. The vibes here went super-sour since I must now wonder about the (worsening) lies purported by both management and those of whoever "five-plus people complained about me". (Betting it's 0, aside from Bitchly McBass next door.)

Yes, the manager today was... informative. In my "please-stop" notes (four, over three months' time) to the neighbor, I am apparently harassing -- and
begging for food
(I gasped, and said "Read them!" to which she said "I did! I have copies!!"...
:D
). I also learned that I (astrally projected, while unconscious, and) have been pounding on everyone's doors (haven't knocked
anywhere
, not even one time). Further, because of my menacings, people have -- invisibly! -- moved away. Well, of course! I mean, as I was told, "Dozens of people have been in my apartment and have heard nothing" (goodness gracious, what is
wrong
with me? I only remember the one guy...).

I said to the manager, despite this mortification, that perhaps she and I could work together to triangulate the nuisance? She, complacently spoken, "is done -- it's your problem".

I kindly persisted, and suggested a simple, non-partisan noise detecting device -- to define the harmful vibrations, just in the one adjoining wall, and bring a grateful peace to her (MANY future, if she did this) residents -- would
prove
I wasn't supersonic, or a liar. "No,
Honey
(sic). I've been in this business for 25 years!" (and what? and
business
of what, exactly?).

I went on, and said I'd get a recording device myself... but it was for her, mainly, and it was kind of expensive? "I don't
care
. And if only a machine can hear it, it's not there." (...I, um, obviously... "hear" it... it was difficult to remain civil, but I did pretty well.)

"-- And what of the 'disturbing neighbors' you had in your last apartment? It's everyone but
you
, right?" Hm. I was undisturbed for the first nine months at the last place, and was downright
happy
my first two here. She damned well knows these things, but I gritted my teeth and
shared
with her as if she didn't. Just like that, I kept setting about informing her as to the many conflicting realities at hand. To which, she kept cutting me off, eventually cutting the entire call short with "Okay well I'm gonna go".

As punctuation, she says, "There IS no noise." Repeatedly, interrupting me, with that well-loved "I was just obeying orders!" non-inflection. You know these types of women, I'm sure: Her tone illustrated that she was
important
. She had far better things to do than listen to, lie to, lie about, and lie about
to
a person whom she promised to safely shelter, and give "quiet enjoyment" to,
for pay
.

Maybe the landlord's end of the contract isn't so strong, when the tenant has no money, and no family to take her part? I quite recall: When I signed my lease, I was wearing an eye patch, and limping quite obviously to and from a cab. Too, of course, she'd asked my history. I'm guessing she recalls this as well.

Your suggestions are real good... I've actually been doing the disabled-advocates and legal-aid stuff all day. I mean to discuss the possibility that I am being discriminated against due to my -- apparently -- helpless position (...you should never behave so poorly... you never know who has the ability to warn millions of people against a bad deal). That is depressingly clear, but I guess it's also ... something to focus on?

Sadly (as I learned last year, and re-learned this morning), what happens, when you try to call legal aid et al, is you end up holding on the phone for up to an hour... at which time they disconnect you (which I understand, but that's their only "in"). No news there: Just to keep trying.

Problem with contacting the police. It's been the worst downer part. Amongst the crazy lies on the notice I was served is that, I have been ordered to no longer give anyone "false information". I've thrice-clarified it (with management and a Just-Answer lawyer -- $20, but they helped, because it was midnight, and I was frantic!) -- if I "choose" to provide the police with "false information", I am evicted.

Actual (confirmed) translation: If whichever random cop answers my call either doesn't hear it (unlikely, but the maintenance guy is now claiming he did not), or does hear it, but it doesn't reach to the outer sidewalk, and/or fulfill some city-criminal ordinance like that (the manager sprung this never-there-before "rule" on me -- no, of course! it's only in my walls), I have "materially falsified police records". That is named as one of the behaviors I must "cure", to have the honor to stay here, or I will have no home, owe thousands of dollars (plus possible fines or jail time), and an eviction on my record.

This is super-fishy. I'm glad I at least know of a lawyer, even if I don't know his specialty. I think he likes me... we laughed together plenty, anyways. (Neither one of us could figure out how to make the tea and coffee for a seminar once...
:)
a fairly intelligent 37 year old woman and a seventy-something year old attorney! I think we ended up just making hot water and leaving some tea-bags around...)

:wanders in circles, senses dashed:

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Damn... If there was in ANY way that I could be helpful, I would do so immediately. You sound like the type of neighbor that I would like to have. The type that does not do anything to hurt others and does all that she can to be considerate. If your still in the need of any assistance, maybe I can see if there is a way for me to find some help nearby for you.

You know, I have this side of me that would like to park my bike right next to her livingroom window, pull off the muffler, and wind her up to about 5 grand on the tach while doing a burnout. Then again, that would put me on the same level as your neighbor and LL, and I am trying to be a better person.

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I know this was posted yonks ago. But I have to say I know how you feel. For six years I lived in a really crappy flat. I had upstairs neighbours, downstairs neighbours and ones on either side. The woman who had her bedroom adjoining mine was a prostitute :lol: . A very loud and annoying one, that made it hard to sleep. So I started sleeping on the lounge and the other guy next door would be watching TV all night or playing console games, that once again I could hear through the walls. There were several people who lived below me the most annoying was the psycho nut who would run around the complex screaming his head off in the middle of the night and playing really crap and loud music in the middle of the night. The guy upstairs was really cool, he was as big as a bear and the only problem with him was that he had a balance problem and would fall over quite often. (He would quite often make a big thump, although not as annoying as everyting else.)

Just over a year ago I had a mental breakdown. I suffer from severe depression and anxiety, a major factor in my going wonko was where I lived and that I had no peace and quiet and no privacy. I moved six months ago to an old drafty house, got an abandoned cat and now have been steadily improving my mental health.

What did the caretakers (landlord, rent takers, maintenence people) do at the flats from hell? Nothing! Not a damn bloody thing for six years. Every set was worse than the last. The only thing I got told was to stay inside and not go out at night. I even got told off for yelling at the psycho music player to shut the fuck up one night. To make things even better the caretakers ran off with about $10 000 of rent and utilities money just after christmas one year. Sure enough the company that owned the complex tried to get us to pay. They had burnt their records before they did the runner.

I only got to move because my grandmother had died and left me enough money to move and pay rent for a year. Otherwise I would still be sitting in my version of hell, rocking back and forth and babbling incoherently.

Thought you'd appreaciate knowing you aren't alone. I hope you got it all sorted out okay. I couldn't offer any kind of legal advice because I live in an entirely different country.

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