One day last week, sitting at thwack! my desk in the late afternoon, I heard a loud, rhythmic thwack! that initially didn’t bother me, as I figured it would stop in a minute. thwack! But, after about 15 minutes of this, I started to get a thwack! headache. Annoying isn’t it? That was only a couple sentences.
The sound was kind of hollow, like bouncing those big red cherry balls on pavement. At first I thought it was just that, but after a few thwacks! I noticed the sound was much deeper and resonant. And it happened too steadily to be kids playing. I figured it had to be someone doing some kind of construction or hammering and hoped it would go away.
After 35 minutes, I couldn’t take it anymore and went outside to investigate. My apartment is built into a hillside, so the neighbors to my left sit higher up on the hill than my building does. There’s a walkway that runs alongside my building that has cars in their lot parked at my head-level, if that makes any sense. So, I walked around the side of the building to peer into their parking lot to see what the hell was going on over there.
I found a guy swinging a giant mallet at a tire lying on the ground. Over and over. And over. I assume this was for fitness, since he was sweating buckets and I couldn’t find any evidence of any other reason. I don’t mind that this guy was working out, but come on… like he couldn’t tell how loud that was?
I called over to him when he took a breath. “Excuse me! Hi! I was wondering how much longer you might be doing that?”
He said, “I’m done.” And I said, “Ok, thanks! That sound really bounces right off the side of my living room, like you were hammering at the Hollywood Bowl. Seems like a good workout, though!”
Then I did the “OK, bye, thanks, mumblemumble, blah blah…” as I walked away. Cool, I figured that he might have not realized that people were home during that time of day (though, it was 5 o’clock) or not understood that due to the structure of the buildings against the hillside, it’s like a makeshift amphitheater whenever people make noise outside. No biggie.
I kid you not, he started again yesterday. What the hell, buddy? Clearly, he didn’t get the hint. Look, do your workout. I am totally cool with that, but drag your raggedy ass tire out to a field somewhere and beat it, would you? Give a girl a break! Between him and the Weekend Warrior and the Humpfest Royale upstairs, it’s like Lollapalooza up in here. *raises the roof* Etcetera.
Where has common courtesy gone? I don’t crank up my music. I don’t rev my car. I don’t play the electric guitar during prime time. I shut off my car alarm if it goes off. I don’t slam the dumpster lid. I don’t leave my clothes in the washer indefinitely. I don’t have parrots that caw like it’s effin’ Costa Rica at 6am on a Saturday morning. And I certainly don’t bang a tire in the parking lot after my neighbor has sweetly indicated that it’s bothersome. Nay… nay, I say!
Ok, that’s a dumb name, but it’s on par with “de-lurk” as far as I’m concerned. I’ve never been a big fan of “de-lurking days”, I guess because I always assumed if people wanted to comment, they would. I always felt like it was just too obvious a plea for comments. I don’t begrudge anyone that, I’ve seen the fun had by those involved, it just was never for me… before.
I’m about to boldy go where I’ve deigned to go in the past — I’m asking you to de-lurk. *gasp! dismay! shock abound!*
Ok, so it’s not that big of a deal, I’m just really curious to see who is reading. I love to meet new people and I don’t just write for me, even though that’s the cool thing to say. I’ll keep it real for you, kids: I write for the fun of it and you are part of the fun. Without you, I’m just talking to myself and I get enough of that as it is.
Lately there have been some new folks commenting and I’ve been following some links in my traffic to skulk about on blogs who have visited here… maybe even yours. I think it’s time we introduced ourselves, don’t you think?
So, uh… hi! *waves* Leave a comment, would you? It doesn’t have to be profound; I’m just curious who you are. Tell me a story. Tell me about your blog. Stroke my ego. Stroke somethin’!
Then maybe later we can brush each others hair and gab about American Idol. And if you get that reference, I’ll send you an IT Girl’s mouse.
Here, I’ll give you a topic to break the ice: speaking of “de-” things… why is “pantsing” someone the same as “de-pantsing”? I’ve never understood that. Pantsing implies the application of pants, not the removal, but de-pants just sounds dumb. To pants or de-pants… that is the question!
I was just watching the end of Good Morning America where they were doing a segment with Ted Allen, the new host of that Mythbusters-meets-Good Eats series, Food Detectives. I think it premieres tonight on the Food Network. Anyway, all the hosts were competing to see who could eat six saltine crackers in under a minute because it’s supposed to be some kind of “food myth” that it can’t be done.
I had never heard of this particular myth until about five years ago when a guy who was dating a friend of mine brought it up. “Dudes, dudes… listeeeen. Can you eat six of those salty crackers in under a minute?” (or words to that effect.)
Conveniently, I had some of those “salty crackers” in my cabinet, so we busted them out. He and I were the only ones to give it a go and honestly, I wasn’t sure what the big deal was at first. I love saltines and when I’m sick, I can nibble like a little mouse through a whole column of those; it’s the only thing that makes me feel better. I thought, “Six in a minute? Amateurs.”
Well, it is a lot harder than it looks, but I did it with 9 seconds to spare on my first try. The other guy still had a whole cracker left.
I’m still not entirely sure if this is something I should be proud of. I’ve accomplished many things in my life and I wouldn’t put this up there with being published or losing 100 lbs, but part of me wants it in my bio…
I’ve been looking forward to this Friday for months and it’s finally almost here! I get to see Eddie Izzard! Eeeeeeeeeee! And with great seats, to boot! Let’s use more exclamation marks!!!!! OMGPONIES!
Originally, I’d gotten the tickets with Ross in mind, but when our vacation plans got shuffled, I had to think long and hard about who to take with me. This is no random night of random comedy — this is Eddie. I want to go with someone who loves him like I do, someone who “gets” the humor, who would really appreciate it.
It’s not that I don’t want to introduce Eddie to potentially new fans, but I don’t want to spend the evening worrying if the other party is enjoying it. I’ve been waiting years to see Eddie and I didn’t trade my first born for these seats to do anything but laugh until I cry and wonder where he got that lipstick.
I almost sold my extra ticket on Craigslist, but then I remembered that Mrs. Z is probably an Eddie fan, so a few texts and some squealing later, we’re going on Friday night. Hooray! I could use a night out, and I haven’t seen Mrs Z. since her bambino was born, so this should be a good time. She’s so much fun.
Though, I am going out with chickrawker tonight. She likes this place called Blue Lotus that I’ve been meaning to check out, so we’re having drinks there this evening before karaoke. Hopefully I can go the distance, I’m such an old lady these days. I better start going out more before I start talking to my fish and Tivo’ing episodes of Ghost Whisperer. Not that I’d do that… or uh, anything.
There have been many incarnations of our website in the last 10 years. We started out with a pair of ladies from stock imagery, for whom we hold a particular nostalgia. We've had hair salon ladies and even prom wallflower ladies when we were more than two. When we had the ever-talented Derek Yaniger draw […]