Last night, some students decided to move into the apartment building across the street ... beginning at 1:30 a.m. Not only that, but they were clumsy. So they were bashing things around, making an ungodly racket, and yelling to each other throughout. I finally went out in my kimono and asked them to please be quiet. Hmm. Actually, I wasn't that nice. I believe I said something along the lines of "It's 1:30 in the morning and you're being very loud. If you can't manage to do this quietly, I will call the police and report you for disturbing the peace." They looked scared. A bunch of very young Asian boys, probably incoming freshman starting summer school. Now they'll be all scared of the mean old woman who lives across the street.
Then this morning I was woken up by a bunch of men sitting right under the bedroom windows and talking loudly to each other. Our front "yard" (which is actually only a brief patch of weedy ground) has a slightly raised little cement thingy which homeless people love to sit on whenever Shannon has trimmed the weeds enough to make it comfortable. I don't know if these guys were homeless or not, but I didn't really care. They were sitting in our yard, talking really loud, and they woke me up. So I went outside and asked them to leave, much more politely than I had been when speaking to the kids last night. Unfortunately, only two of the guys were reasonable. The other two gave me a ton of shit. One of them was yelling at me and refusing to leave and insisting that this was public property (no, dude, your feet were on the sidewalk, but your ass was in our yard). Eventually, Shannon came out to back me up, which was a good thing, because a few minutes later I fled the conversation in tears. I'm just not good with people yelling at me. I kept saying, "Look, I didn't come out here to fight with you. This isn't personal. But this is our house, and you're being very loud, and it would be better if you hung out somewhere else." Sigh.
And then, when I started walking around the house (certainly not able to go back to sleep after a strange man had made me cry out on the sidewalk), I noticed that my knee was twinging. And then it was more than twinging. When I walk downstairs or bend it to sit down, it makes me shout, "OW!" So I guess I managed to do something many said was impossible: I fucked up my knee while swimming. Yes, they said it couldn't be done, but I overcame all obstacles and achieved what others could not. Damn. I'd been planning on going to the gym today, but now that doesn't seem wise. Damn.
Lastly, and leastly, I decided to watch Y Tu Mama Tambien today. I've had it out from Netflix for more than a month, but I finally was in the mood to watch it. So I put it in. I watch the first 20 minutes or so. I thought, "Wow! This movie is pretty good! I should have watched it ages ago!" And then the DVD died. I cleaned it with Windex. I tried it again. It died in the exact same place. Damn. I finally get around to watching it, I really like it, and it dies. So I'm sending it back to Netflix and asking for another copy of the same movie. They'll probably think I was playing frisbee with the disk for the past month.
A bit of goodness today, though, was that Shannon and I played a game of "Ticket To Ride" -- a sort of railroad game in which you build connections between various cities -- and I kicked his butt. Okay, I didn't actually kick his butt. I actually won by a very narrow margin. But I still won.
Oh, yeah, and I'm in love with my new Inu-Yasha icon I made yesterday. I keep looking at it and going, "Pretty!"