I am proud to announce that I have finally taken the boxes out of my apartment and down to the recycling! Though I thoroughly enjoyed hurdling them daily, I wasn't sure I could get my suitcase past them in the morning, and though the thought of going to Chicago with nothing more than my purse was tempting, I thought my mother might want me in clothes for Mother's Day, so alas, I've taken them out.
I've made this NY-Chicago trip more times than I can count this year....and it's only May. I have the same seat on the same planes and have the same flight attendants. I wonder if that counts me as a "jet setter"? I think the name implies a certain hipness that I do not posess. Also I think jet setters usually go more to more exotic locales than Chicago, so I guess I'm just a girl with a LOT of frequent flyer miles.
The (formerly) amorous hippos in the apartment above me have lost their love and are currently having one hell of an argument. It has been going on for a few hours now, and I can't lay there anymore and attempt sleep. It's bothering me on many levels, the noise, but not just the volume, I can't make out the words, so it's the lovers quarrel version of the teacher in Charlie Brown. My nosy self wants to know what they are yelling about, but no matter how hard I try, I can't make it out. Secondly, the yelling is bringing back ugly memories for me. The years that D and I did exactly what the two of them are doing. Its funny, I have little recollection of what he and I would so vehemently argue about, so when I replay it in my mind it sounds a lot like what I'm listening to, garbled words, hearing only the highs and lows of various emotions. Again, like the Charlie Brown cartoon. I remember the emotion too clearly for it to have been so many years ago now. I remember the yelling being so bad that you would hear his roommate sneak out to his girlfriends house at 4am so he could get some sleep before having to go to work in the morning. I usually wouldn't be too far behind him, either driving aimlessly around for a few hours, or sacking out on a friend's couch, or going to the 24 hour convenience store and wandering the aisles in my pjs waiting until I knew he had gotten up and gone, so I could go back home, shower and get to work.
I hope things end differently for the (formerly) amorous hippos above than they did for me. In the 10 months here I've never heard them fight before, but have spent countless nights listening to their headboard pound against the wall in an all too familiar rhythm, so perhaps there is hope. I give Mr. Amorous Hippo credit...he's kept his cool and barely raised his voice to Ms. Amorous Hippoette, even though she's been screaming at him for hours. Maybe it means he's guilty of something though, I'm not sure. I can only hope she doesn't end up wandering the aisles of our local 24 hour grocery store or riding the subway until dawn. If she wants to knock on my door, with her pillow under her arm and sack out on my couch it's fine with me. I've been her in a past life and I've come out on the other side.