Letter to Neighbors: Version 2.0
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Hi there, ladies and gents. ( I use this salutation because I'm not really sure anymore which of you all live on the other side of the wall, and which of you are simply 19-year old transients, passing through the building looking for a party)

I'm 10:09 pm. Yes, I'm a total loser and I'm sitting at home alone, surfing the internet. Yes, my to-do list for this evening included (1) not eating everything in my refrigerator, (2) putting my laundry away, and (3) ironing. I fully realize that just because I watch "Beauty and the Geek" (goddarnit, you CW, you with the addictive shows!) it doesn't mean I know what is hip or happening these days.

What I do know, however, is that I am in NO MOOD to hear you beat out the rhythm to a Fall Out Boy song on what I'm imagining is one VERY large bongo drum. You can't fool me, I used to play snare in junior high, AND I spent half of college trying to find someone on the drumline cute enough to date. I think I know my percussion instruments pretty well. (For the record, I ended up in a horrendous on/off relationship with a sousaphone player. A sousaphone is an upright tuba. You can stop laughing now.)

Back to my point. The way I see it, you've either got John Stamos in there, practicing for his next tour with the Beach Boys, or someone is practicing for their tympani internship with the CSO. Either way, zip it.