It is not often that I am rendered speechless by something. By anything. I mean, I'm not the one who stands in the back and makes incessantly unnecessary comments (Which reminds me of the time we were at this girl Kelly's wedding and this guy Dave, who she had slept with while she was "on a break" from her then husband was there. As her husband looked out over the crowd he said, "I see all your faces and I could tell a story about each and every one of you," and before he finished his remark Dave and his open bar self blurted out, "I've got a story for you ****", like the jackass that he was and we all told him to shut up. I mean it was her wedding day for the love of Pete. Who's Pete? We all know he put his flag on the top of that mountain. He was just stating the obvious. I'm not like that. Well, not often anyway.) , but ask me a question? I could probably throw some SAT words your way.
At some point when I wasn't looking, we got new neighbors upstairs. And they're not the pleasant kind like the lady kitty corner who, during the summer months, sings all the words to The Ketchup Song at the top of her voice and dances on the balcony. That I can deal with.
The new neighbors? That live directly above us? They either have embraced Pacaf's Fit to Fight Super Slogan so wholeheartedly that they never stop racing around the apartment, or they weigh a ton each and live with Bela Karolyi.
I can't say that I know which one it is, and at this point, I don't know if I really care. All I wish is that they would quit "movin' and shakin'" all around up there. While I have been know to exaggerate from time to time here at EBHT, THERE IS A CRACK IN OUR CEILING, Y'ALL. A CRACK. IN THE CEMENT. If it were in the bedroom, I might laugh a little and nudge dh and we'd giggle like two elementary school kids, but it's in the LIVING ROOM. WHERE THEY AEROBICIZE OR TUMBLE OR WHATEVER the hell it is that they do that shakes my lamps astray and terrorizes the fish and me and dh whenever we are sitting in here trying to enjoy a quiet evening together because we all are terrified that that big ole crack is going to split and the plaster will fall on our heads because it is that cramped and then we will die without having any kids so I'll never know what they'll look like.
Hearing them run around makes me feel like an animal hunter off in the bush. Quick! Where's my tranquilizer gun? If they break my lamp? I'm crackin' skulls.