The continuing saga continues, as continuing sagas tend to do.
The woman upstairs is either clearly suffering from a brain tumor or a medical condition that causes her to have hyper-intense senses or is quite simply insane.
Two nights ago, in attempt to secure my love, my boyfriend brought me on a hot date to see Harry Potter part 7,30987. He didn’t want to go at all and he made enough comments to insure that I was fully aware of this. Still, despite my polite resistance he insisted he “let me do this for you”.
To be fair, he first offered to take me to see Burlesque but the pain in his voice was evident.
I suggested Due Date which looks stupid but has potential to at least be entertaining and not have CGI magic induced virtual pubescent make-out scenes in it.
“They say that Zak Galifianakis is supposed to be the new Jack Black you know…”
but the title scared him off.
So this is how wild and crazy we’ve become with
old age maturity.
Please know that I am not only embarrassed to admit this to you but concerned for my own mental health as I watch the words fall from my fingertips to the screen before me. I really do have a full, wild and exciting life. I do!
We went to Commensal for a healthy vegetarian meal. Then went to the cinema to watch the 3 billionth installment of Harry Potter.
We arrived home at approximately 24:15 talked about snakes and special effects for about 15 minutes, tolerated half of a song performed by GWAR on the Jimmy Fallon show (volume 2) which naturally led to a 5 minute conversation about my embarrassment for having *slept with the singer when I was young enough that my breasts were more developed than my brain (which I suspect may still be the case but that’s for another day…)
This leading to Franky’s 4 second attempt at digging more garbage out of my closet followed by a 1 1/2 second beat down with a pillow and silence.
So… about 22 minutes and 4 1/2 seconds of vocal communication that occurred in my house after dark on Friday night before we passed out cold.
2 AM the door bell rings. I am startled awake.
Only 1 out of 3 of my children are in the house tonight.
I see police at the door and flashlights through the window.
I try to swallow my stomach back down from my throat as I fumble for the lock.
The last time the police were at my door, they came bearing news that smashed me square in the face and turned my family’s entire life upside down.
“M’am, we’ve had a complaint about noise coming from your apartment”
They crane their necks to peek into my pitch black and completely silent flat.
“Did you hear any loud noises? Lots of people? Blasting music? Banging and crashing?”
“I was asleep”
Our stupid kitten took advantage of this moment to make a break for it and one of the police officers tore off after him down the road.
I stood on my snowy balcony in my pajamas waiting for him to bring
idiot Sheldon back,
the police both apologized for disturbing me and left.
I went back to bed where Franky and I had a very loud conversation at the the ceiling about how COMPLETELY INSANE THAT CRAZY B!TCH UPSTAIRS is and agreed at top volume that she should maybe GET A LIFE or even just go see the new Harry Potter movie OR SOMETHING!!!
It took me almost an hour to fall back asleep and I woke up plotting the neighbor’s demise.
Franky woke up and reminded me how lucky I am to have a boyfriend so sweet that he would take me to see The Deathly Hallows of his one free and good will.
- 1. The film was almost painfully boring and I will openly admit that I loved the first one.
- 2. What do I do about the nut-cake who lives upstairs from me?
- 3. ⬇ Eeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!! ⬇
*I promise to inflict the details of this and the many other entertaining horrors of my life on all the readers of my book that is almost entirely written. So if you’re a masochist or a glutton for tales of the trials and tribulations of being me, keep your eyes and ears open for it.