June 28, 2004 - 10:49 p.m.
This is a little anecdote regarding the PARTY HARD atmosphere of my house:
I had to relocate to the living room to finish my book on punctuation; I'd been having trouble concentrating, because I have a headache and the housemate on the other side of one wall had his classical music turned up loud.
I am, right now, typing this (instead of sleeping) only because the classical music is still playing. Why don't I just knock on his door and ask him to turn it down or to listen through headphones? Because: I don't want to be the guy who is so lame that he has to knock on a door to request that the classical music be turned down so that he may finish his book on punctuation.
(I also have trouble walking out into the living room to inquire as to why somebody decided to throw an impromptu party on a Wednesday starting at 3 o'clock in the morning; and/or, why the Family Guy DVD is playing at all, much less at such volume that whenever a character has a pratfall it sounds like a gas station explosion, when nobody appears to be paying attention to it; or just what, precisely, all the shouting is about, because I know perfectly well it is due to housemates coming home from a loud concert, possibly of classical music; or why I read books about punctuation when I know they only inspire me to write paragraphs that are just one egregious sentence interrupted only by commas and semicolons. But hey, as long as it's only once in a while. I'm a reasonable guy. PARTY ON!)
