Here is what is on my plate Our mystifying neighbors. For whatever reason, our upstairs neighbors have been a bit rowdier than normal this week. They really aren't crazy noisy, but more like stupid noisy. Stupid things crashing onto the floor. Stupid noodling on their guitar (painful). Stupid dumb-guy laughing at TV. Actually, I don't know if it's one or two people living up there. I have literally seen the main guy maybe twice and traded all of one sentence with him ("Your AC is leaking into our apartment").
Like I said, they aren't really *that* noisy (Mrs. Robot is hitting the comments thing to disagree). Whenever I get cranky about them/him, I think of my old roommate Mike who lives in this cheap-ass (900$) apartment and has these idiot teens upstairs who blast the local radio station 24-7. That would suck. Way more.
The point. Last night, they are rocking out to some nice bass heavy stuff at 11:30pm. WTF. I gots to get my sleep on. Who thinks that is a great time to blast music in a building where they obviously know that there is no soundproofing? We hear people farting upstairs.
I stomp up the stairs and bang on the door. Sidenote: I have to say that my door banging was just beautiful. Their door is really made for banging. It made me sound much larger and meaner. It made me sound like I meant business. If you want to come over and try it out - feel free.
Banged on door. I hear shuffling very near the door and then I hear the music go off.
And that's it. No one opens the door.
I stand there like a dork for a minute until I give a second knock. A very tentative knock this time. "Um, Hello?"
The door does not open. I stomp downstairs and slam my own door (to keep up the impression that I am large and/or mean).
Who doesn't open the door? Was he scared of my liberal arts educated fists of irony?
Speaking of Mike His lovely wife Erin popped out a little girl the other day. Wooo! Congrats to them!
Otherwise Things are well. I am enrolled in this fancy wine class that starts next week. I get some sort of certificate if I pass the exam. Exam! I'll start writing pre-exam posts like Victoria if I am not careful.
I haven't taken a test since... like 1972.
Work is kicking my ass - but it's all good. Our new snazzy-a-riffic office is in/next to/ very close to the Chelsea Market. If you have never been to the Chelsea Market, it's a charming little... market? Mall? Not sure. But it's a lot of bakeries and restaurants and fish stores and dairy stores and Italian markets and - well, there's a lot of fun stuff. It's enjoyable to have to commute through to get to the office.
My only issue is that the whole Chelsea Market has lousy coffee. I have tried everything. Hmmm. I miss my Bangladeshi coffee friends from the old office.
My Ports As of April 1, the United Arab Emirates will be taking control of all coding on this website.
