Monday, January 23, 2006

crimes of contiguity

Sometimes one of the women who live next door to me will cough or something, and I'll be reminded of how thin the walls between our two apartments are. Such reminders are especially disconcerting when I have been singing "David Duchovny, why won't you love me? David Duchovny! WHY WON'T YOU LOVE ME!" (here) in my maximum-decibel falsetto less than a half hour before.

Of course, before I realized how thin the walls were, I tested the echo acoustic of the empty apartment prior to my furniture being moved in by using this same falsetto to sing the "You might just make it after all" line from the Mary Tyler Moore theme over and over again.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

It's neighbors like you that make apartment-living so darn interesting :)

Singing in a falsetto at the top of your lungs, though, really, is understandable. Meanwhile, my friend's neighbor who took a shower at least 6 times a day everyday was a little unusual.

Anonymous said...

i suspect it's hard to reach out for the alarm clock when in the thoes of a threesome

Andrea said...

That's such a grat song! It's too bad it isn't on the songlist at the Karaoke Kid.

Anonymous said...

The neighbor in the apartment next to me once left her alarm clock set for 6am or something over winter break. So every morning either my boyfriend or I would trudge groggily to the fusebox at the back of the building and pull out her fuse for a moment to shut it off. I was tempted to just leave the fuse pulled out, but the apartments were small and tended to have only once circuit, so I didn't want to shut off her fridge for a week.

Then there was the apartment where the neighbor's kid got a xylophone. There was something a bit surreal about that, maybe just because I was sleep deprived. Fortunately, either the xylophone was borrowed or it lost its appeal quickly.