Wherein She Fills You In On the Neighbor Situation
Is it possible that it's been two months since I last wrote? I apologize to all of my readers (pop. approx. 2) for sleeping on the blog job. I'm back, and officially recommitting.
First, to follow up on the previous post, I officially have new neighbors. We're going on two months, and they Donovan (Donnie), Erica and Brett (3-1/2) seem great. First, they are totally groovy with the backyard share situation. Second, they are now duly initiated into the illustrious club of the captive Go Go Guitar Girl audience, and have yet to complain once. This is all good. The fact that the most convenient place for me to practice is in my front room, dangerously close to my apartment doorway, has rendered obsolete any previous inclination toward embarrassment on my part or concern for the comfort of my co-habitators. My neighbors are going to hear me playing and singing away, whether I like it or not. Or, perhaps more pointedly, whether they like it or not.
That said, the early reviews (okay, review) have been positive. Case in point, I ran into E., the mildly freaky photog who lives above me, in the hallway the other day. (I say "mildly" because he's always been perfectly nice and normal to talk to, I say freaky because he wears his wiry gray hair pulled back into a long thin ponytail, ringed up and down with a rainbow of fuzzy Goody hair bands--you know, this kind--so he looks something like an out-and-proud raccoon.)
Anyway, back to the review. Polite as always, when I saw him I noted, "Looks like we've got new neighbors!" He responded, "Yes we do, and we also have a neighbor with a beautiful singing voice." I was like, "We do?" It dawned a bit late that he was talking about me. He went on to say that sometimes he stops outside my door when I'm playing and listens. I was wondering, actually, since often I'll get to the end of a song and just then I'll hear someone scurry up the stairs. But mostly I was just relieved that he didn't hate me for the noise pollution. One never knows, after all, and I'm a bit paranoid since the hermits who live in the basement below me attack their ceiling with a broomstick pretty much every time I start to strum.
First, to follow up on the previous post, I officially have new neighbors. We're going on two months, and they Donovan (Donnie), Erica and Brett (3-1/2) seem great. First, they are totally groovy with the backyard share situation. Second, they are now duly initiated into the illustrious club of the captive Go Go Guitar Girl audience, and have yet to complain once. This is all good. The fact that the most convenient place for me to practice is in my front room, dangerously close to my apartment doorway, has rendered obsolete any previous inclination toward embarrassment on my part or concern for the comfort of my co-habitators. My neighbors are going to hear me playing and singing away, whether I like it or not. Or, perhaps more pointedly, whether they like it or not.
That said, the early reviews (okay, review) have been positive. Case in point, I ran into E., the mildly freaky photog who lives above me, in the hallway the other day. (I say "mildly" because he's always been perfectly nice and normal to talk to, I say freaky because he wears his wiry gray hair pulled back into a long thin ponytail, ringed up and down with a rainbow of fuzzy Goody hair bands--you know, this kind--so he looks something like an out-and-proud raccoon.)
Anyway, back to the review. Polite as always, when I saw him I noted, "Looks like we've got new neighbors!" He responded, "Yes we do, and we also have a neighbor with a beautiful singing voice." I was like, "We do?" It dawned a bit late that he was talking about me. He went on to say that sometimes he stops outside my door when I'm playing and listens. I was wondering, actually, since often I'll get to the end of a song and just then I'll hear someone scurry up the stairs. But mostly I was just relieved that he didn't hate me for the noise pollution. One never knows, after all, and I'm a bit paranoid since the hermits who live in the basement below me attack their ceiling with a broomstick pretty much every time I start to strum.
posted by Kelly at 12:26 PM
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