ahhh, the serenity...

One problem about living in a box amongst a pile of other boxes, is that it is impossible to escape the occupants of those other boxes. Thus I know all the bathroom habits of the person above me (she sings), and what kind of shoes she wear (high heels). And she likes to play "Bombtrack" on her electric guitar. And drums on the table when shes bored. Unless of course shes is actually a he, and a transvestite (I'm sure about those high heels).

And because I am next to the laundry room, I have learned that people really don't abide by that 'no laundry after 10:30pm" rule. The only working machine has an inferiority complex, and is actually aspiring to be a rocket. Since DUWO kindly affixed my reading lamp to the wall for me, my bed is stuck in the one position of the room that is as close as possible to the adjoining wall. But at least its as far away as possible from the compressor on my fridge.

When my furniture first arrived I had a ticking clock on my wall. That lasted about 9 hours, until the first time I went to bed. At which point it was deprived of its battery. However, the second day when I came home, my house fairies had visited again. The clock was mysteriously back on the wall, with a new battery inside. Once again, it was promptly gutted. I wonder how long I can keep playing this game for? I could accumulate quite a collection of batteries this way.
But at least my apartment block is relatively quiet. My neighbours don't have parties very often, and when there is one its normally me having it. Even better now that the cold weather has come and banished the noisy BBQ-goers from the courtyard beneath my window. So, quite peaceful really.

Oh, except for the fireworks.
I awoke to the beginning of world war 3. Surely only a tank gun could be so noisy? But no, when I walked behind my curtain to look out the window, somebody was setting off fireworks right underneath. First the small ones that go 'pieow' "pieow' and then the big ones that burst your ear drums. They all but crisped the paint on their way past. Although amusingly I wasn't the only one wondering about the noise, so when I looked around the courtyard everybody was pressed against the window behind their curtains in their night attire. Ugly dressing gowns, boxers, slips, underpants.
So apart from that my room is quite peaceful.

Oh, and the foghorn too.
The night after, I believe the faculty of electrical engineering must have been conducting some kind of initiation ritual. The task would involve, "making somebody so annoyed that they give you a black eye". Their weapon of choice was a foghorn. You know, the ones with compressed gas, where you press a button and they go "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRPP". They did this consistantly between 6pm and 12pm. So much that I shut my windows because it was hurting my ears. Then they would tantalisingly stop for 10 minutes, enough so that I'd breathe a sigh of relief and open my windows again. As soon as I sat down: "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPP"

Not to mention the construction workers that started a couple of weeks ago. At 7:00 every morning, in the carpark next to my building. They appear to be pulling the bricks up, and then putting them back down again. So much for my monday morning sleep-in. When I cycled past and one of them shouted "hows it goin' good lookin" (or the dutch construction worker equivalent) I was tempted to reply "pretty crap actually, since your machines wake me up every morning". But then I thought that might not be very socially minded of me.

So when I got the following mail in my letterbox, containing the inspiring phrase "de werkzaamheden zullen, afhankelijk van de weersomstandigheden, rond eind december 2006 afgerond zijn" I formed a basic translation. Workers, continuing to wake me up, until around the end of december. Conveniently, also almost the end of my stay. Somehow I'm not surprised that these things happen to me.

Searching for something (anything!) to talk to my (peculiar) next door neighbour about I mentioned the construction work and the letter. "Oh no" he said "thats for a different construction. They're about to start maintenance work on the roof of our building"

What a happy day. I'm also forgetting to mention that cat that is permanatly on heat, yowling in the courtyard....