reading:
John Bowe (ed): Gig: Americans Talk About Their Jobs
Gail Simone: Birds of Prey
Sarah Vowell: Take the Cannoli
Howard Zinn: People's History of the U.S.
Allow me to recommend Josh Friedman's blog, fellow monkeys. As it is DIVINE. I've been obsessed for a few weeks, and as soon as I get around to updating the sidebar he's going on it. My favorite of the screenwriter blogs so far. He curses on it.
This fine Sunday morning, one of my neighbors has chosen to play soft jazz radio at HIGH VOLUME. Turns out, I cannot sleep through the soft jazz cover of "Walking on Broken Glass" or advertisements for CBS programming. Go figure.
It's seriously so loud that it feels like my clock radio just won't shut off. I've actually slapped it a few times. Just to make sure. My old roommate, by this time, would have engaged lethal countermeasures. Or, you know, shouted a whole lot.
I'm going to go to a cafe to do some writing now, and I'm half-tempted to stop by and politely suggest to the neighbors that maybe it's a bit rude, to play "One More Life" so loudly that entire other apartment buildings are affected. But I'm a bit worried that when I do that, the following conversation will commence:
Neighbor: I'm really sorry. It woke you up? You can hear it all the way in your room? Me: Yeah. Neighbor: Which one is your room? Me: That one there. [points] You can see the Wonder Woman mural on the wall from this angle. Neighbor: Oh. Um, are you the one who watches TV at 2 AM? Me: Me? No. No. That must be someone else. Neighbor: No, it's you. We can see you. You have an armchair or something right by the window. You sit there and knit. Me: I'm not disturbing you, am I? I mean, I'm a helluva lot quieter than this Best of Amy Grant thing you got going here. Neighbor: It's not that, it's just... We keep hearing you watch this one show with spaceships and drum music. People shouting and cheering a lot... Me: That's Battlestar Galactica. It's a dark and moody space show. It's very good. Neighbor: It's dark and moody? Me: Yeah. Neighbor: So what's that high-pitched sound we keep hearing? Me: Um. That would be me. Neighbor: That would be you? Me: That would be me. Squealing. Neighbor: You realize that it's freaking out my dog, right? Me: Well. It's a really good show.
Oh, pseudo-season finale of Battlestar. You beautiful tease. You beautiful, beautiful tease.