Last night we were kept awake well past 5am by throbbing hip-hop bass lines from somewhere in the downstairs vicinity. Oy. Only after
justom went down and ascertained that it was in fact
immediately downstairs
(but unresponsive to knocking on their door, no surprise) did I think to apply the universal "cut it the f**k out" signal of stomping on the floor five times. This had the desired effect: it did come on again a bit later, but more quietly and not so cell-pervading, hardly worth getting up to register another complaint.
So, rather than get up at 7:30am with
justom, I managed to stay in bed and mostly asleep until 10:30. I'm grateful to be
on vacation and get to do that, but I feel awful for him today, poor love.
Speaking of being on vacation, since I have the luxury of time right now, here's the recap of
( what else I did this weekend... ) For today, I'd been thinking it would be a good day to get to a museum, but the Met is closed on Mondays, of course, and so is the Frick Collection. Maybe I'll try for the MoMA. Off to put some chicken in the crockpot and get rolling.
P.S. I almost forgot to mention: 'tis the nineteenth of Septemb
arrrr, known across the seven seas as
International Talk Like A Pirate Day! Avast!