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Dec. 31st, 2006 09:05 amOMG, what a night.
I woke at two am, mostly because my hands had fallen asleep and were tingling unpleasantly, to discover that my upstairs neighbour was having a party and his bass was on. I wouldn't mind loud music if it was MUSIC, but all I hear is the bass and it gets monotonous after a while. I got up, had a glass of water, and was getting back into bed when I heard the sound of squealing brakes. Not all that unusual around here; kids street-race at night, I've mostly learned to tune it out.
Unfortunately, directly afterward, I heard the Sound. It's a sound that nobody who's been in a car accident is likely to forget -- it's not a crunch, like it's often described, but a cracking, popping noise. The only analogy I've ever been able to come up with is that being in an auto accident sounds like a very amplified version of the trunk of a car closing directly onto three dozen eggs.
Well, thought I, because I had no idea why else I would be awake at two am, perhaps I was woken so I could go help. So, I dressed and grabbed my keys and cellphone and wandered outside barefoot to see how bad the accident was. It was directly in front of my apartment, so I had a pretty good view from the stoop. An SUV and a minivan seemed to have come to blows, and while everyone looked okay (no broken glass) the two men who had been driving were apparently experiencing the very common lack-of-reasoning-ability that follows a sudden surge of adrenaline. I've experienced it myself.
They were shouting at each other and beginning to look like a fistfight was in order, and while I'm happy to balm the hurt and call the ambulance my philanthropy does not extend to getting between two extremely angry young men. So, I called the police, let them know what was going on, and went back to bed. Just as I was dropping off, the sirens started me awake again, and I slept pretty fitfully until about six when I finally gave it up as a bad job.
I'm working from two to ten tonight. That should be fun. In the meantime, though, I have my Sunday-morning radio show to listen to, and a decent amount of food, so all is well.
On that score, while I've been invited to go down to a bar and watch the fireworks over the lake with most of the rest of the theatre, I don't really enjoy the idea of riding the El home after midnight, and so I am planning to come directly home. With no delays, I should be getting home in time to make myself some tea and a grilled-cheese sandwich by the end of the year.
Happy New Year to all.
Watch out for February, though. It's a fucker. Nobody loves February. Advance warning hereby given. :D
I woke at two am, mostly because my hands had fallen asleep and were tingling unpleasantly, to discover that my upstairs neighbour was having a party and his bass was on. I wouldn't mind loud music if it was MUSIC, but all I hear is the bass and it gets monotonous after a while. I got up, had a glass of water, and was getting back into bed when I heard the sound of squealing brakes. Not all that unusual around here; kids street-race at night, I've mostly learned to tune it out.
Unfortunately, directly afterward, I heard the Sound. It's a sound that nobody who's been in a car accident is likely to forget -- it's not a crunch, like it's often described, but a cracking, popping noise. The only analogy I've ever been able to come up with is that being in an auto accident sounds like a very amplified version of the trunk of a car closing directly onto three dozen eggs.
Well, thought I, because I had no idea why else I would be awake at two am, perhaps I was woken so I could go help. So, I dressed and grabbed my keys and cellphone and wandered outside barefoot to see how bad the accident was. It was directly in front of my apartment, so I had a pretty good view from the stoop. An SUV and a minivan seemed to have come to blows, and while everyone looked okay (no broken glass) the two men who had been driving were apparently experiencing the very common lack-of-reasoning-ability that follows a sudden surge of adrenaline. I've experienced it myself.
They were shouting at each other and beginning to look like a fistfight was in order, and while I'm happy to balm the hurt and call the ambulance my philanthropy does not extend to getting between two extremely angry young men. So, I called the police, let them know what was going on, and went back to bed. Just as I was dropping off, the sirens started me awake again, and I slept pretty fitfully until about six when I finally gave it up as a bad job.
I'm working from two to ten tonight. That should be fun. In the meantime, though, I have my Sunday-morning radio show to listen to, and a decent amount of food, so all is well.
On that score, while I've been invited to go down to a bar and watch the fireworks over the lake with most of the rest of the theatre, I don't really enjoy the idea of riding the El home after midnight, and so I am planning to come directly home. With no delays, I should be getting home in time to make myself some tea and a grilled-cheese sandwich by the end of the year.
Happy New Year to all.
Watch out for February, though. It's a fucker. Nobody loves February. Advance warning hereby given. :D
