dear yuppies: pay for parking

1. I had a bad encounter with a yuppy today. I apologize for the long rant.
Technically speaking, the yuppies of which I speak aren't really yuppies at all. Yuppy comes from "YUP" - Young Urban Professional. Fredericton yuppies aren't really all that young anymore, but they have a sense of entitlement that can be pretty amazing.
I live in a fairly cheap neighbourhood, mostly composed of students and young families who can't afford a decent apartment (we don't even seem to have many call centre workers, as their pay scale is a notch above student loans). That said, we live downtown, a block away from city centre, which is convenient for buses and jobs. As part of our lease, we get a parking space outside, but we don't have a car, so it doesn't really matter. However, our parking lot (which we share with two other low rent buildings) is always full of shiny cars, and in the mornings and late afternoons there is a parade of suits and business casual up and down the driveway - downtown professionals poaching our parking. They also like to zoom in and around with little regard for the children playing in the lot, which is just kind of mean. I understand that parking meters and garages are expensive, but the usual arrangement around this area is to rent a parking space, not steal someone else's. I sure would like another $50/month, but it's more effort than it's worth to complain and make a fuss.
This week, though, Gabriel the landlord is getting the parking lot fixed up (presumably so the poachers don't break an ankle falling into a pothole) and has been trying to cordon off the driveway so people don't park in it and get hit by a large piece of construction machinery. Every time I walk past, though, someone has moved the roadblock and tried to park in our driveway. It must drive him batty.
When I left after lunch today I walked up the driveway and found a large blue sedan idling on our sidewalk, with almost no room to get around it. I picked my way around while the woman in the driver's seat glared at me, and then she leaned out the window and said, "I'm sorry, I'm trying to find a parking space!". I looked across the road and saw four empty spaces with parking meters and looked back to her, and pointed out that there is construction going on and she would probably get towed if she parked there. She looked annoyed and said, "But I have to get to a doctor's appointment!".
The only doctors near my house are the abortion clinic and a dentist who has a large parking lot of his own. And she did park her big blue sedan in the driveway, for at least five hours (it was still there when I came home), and made Gabriel so annoyed he stomped around to all the apartments asking about it.
I kind of hope he gets her towed. I also kind of want to write a passive-aggressive note on a big poster in our parking lot that reads

Dear Yuppies,
the parking spaces you are poaching are being paid for by impoverished students and young families. At very least, please try to avoid causing us bodily harm. Donations of money and nonperishable food items are also welcome.

I really don't like driveby snarkings in my neighbourhood.

2. SO. In other news. The Rothesay show is looking reasonably promising already, and when I make about a billion phone calls tomorrow it will get even better. My only real problem is that being an hour and a half away it is difficult to put up posters and get the local arts community into it.
Sean's doing well, but is getting a little run down. He's been down with my dumb cold for days now and continues to work almost every day - in fact he's had six day weeks for the past three weeks. Our evenings are very restful, though.

3. Linkage:

• People like to toss around the word "hero". This woman is a hero.
• Inflated hedgehogs are at once hilarious and so, so sad.
• Some blogs are really consistently written, and Scott Adams' is one of them. This entry in particular made me think.

4. The rest of the week: work, work, work... no homework! no other job! no invigilating or class or anything! It's almost like a vacation. In an office.
I also have a mission this month. I have a huge amount of clothing that I've been saving to cut up and turn into better, more fun clothing - for years. I'm not bringing any of it to the new place. It's all getting done now or not at all. I'll share the tears and the joy as soon as I get around to it.