Urgh.

Unfortunately I spoke too soon. Our noisiest neighbors did not disappear to far-off climes for the holiday; no, they hosted a New Year's party. I thought maybe if I drank a lot of wine (okay, a lot more wine. And champagne. And beer. And found some earplugs) and turned up the PBS Elitist Classical Music New Year's Party broadcast, I could drown out the heavy bassline vibrating our shared wall. Funny how heavy bass does absolutely nothing for "Selections from the Nutcracker," eh? I know, I was shocked, too. If I was only halfway lazy, I'd make a special PBS Nutcracker-bassline dance mix and post it on youtube with video of me throwing dishes at the wall. Quirky!

Oh - and after the bass started up, someone started blowing the fucking hell out of a party horn. It sounded like a sad goose with untreated ulcerative colitis wandering around our backyard.

You know what consoles me in times like these? The fact that I got up early this morning and will now start blasting some StS Manson and NPR all while playing a lively tune on my kazoo. The only thing I lack is a giant truck to start and rev, rev, rev up at 6:01 a.m., of course.

It's really tough to be considerate of others, but as Constable Fraser reminds us, it only takes a moment to be courteous.