Woe be a Furnace Pilot Light

Sot our furnace's pilot light has been undergoing some major problems, to the tune of blowing out four times since we've moved in. I don't recall our heat going off while living in the back apartment, but three times in the first week we were without heat, and today is frigid outside and in. I got home, felt chilly, but I attributed that to our walk back from the Khoreys' in temperatures that felt like the teens. Bitter cold. I cranked the heat up higher than usual since yesterday, another cold one, required the thermostat to be set closer to 70 than the normal 60. But, like the other times, the humming rush of warmth did not accompany my turning of the dial, and I sat freezing in my wool coat, cold nose dripping. The last time it happened Rob had been shown by our neighbor, Danny, how to relight the pilot light. Obviously this is a man's job and no business of mine because my landlady kept saying, "We'll show Rob how to light it." This works just fine when Rob's here, but he's over at the aviary for the better part of the week, leaving Olive and me to huddle as close to the space heater as possible. She doesn't complain, but her shivering betrays her real feelings. No one is about today to fix the problem. Call me crazy, but I'd say a new furnace is in order. I mean, I'm paying rent so perhaps they should spring for a working heating system. I'm this close to lighting a fire in a metal trash can, or requesting a rent reduction.