I live over a huge Muslim family, who collectively are my landlords. There is the patriarch of the family, and his wife; then, their 2 sons and their wives, and their daughter and her husband, plus two younger brothers who I guess to be about 15 and 11, respectively, and, at last count, 2 kids, although I noticed the daughter was pregnant last week. They own two adjacent buildings on this block, and in this building they rent the top floor out. They bought the buildings back when Smith Street was a war zone; you can still see bullet holes in the Plexiglas of my front doorway, and there are security mirrors jury-rigged onto the windows overlooking the front door from my kitchen (think rearview mirrors, but giant). My apartment is huge, even by Brooklyn standards, with the whole Manhattan-esque rent increase taken into consideration. It's a fair price as well for my rent, and I love it here. But sometimes, the family below makes it a nightmare. They tend to fight all the time, screaming bitterly. The kids are always howling; I remarked to Ben once that I suspected they fed the babies glass. Right now, one of the young husbands, I can't tell which, is screaming at the top of his lungs at his wife, and it is actually scaring me. Doors are slamming and it sounds like he's hitting the walls. Do I call the police? Will that make it worse, will the wife end up getting in more trouble then? Muslims tend to be very private about business between husband and wife in my limited experience. I'm never sure what to do, which makes me feel sad and powerless. My old roommate Meghan used to have my room, and she told me that she could clearly hear the 11 year old swearing and watching what sounded like the bass-heavy tones of BET. At 1 in the morning. On a weeknight. One of the husbands comes home from work at midnight, and the wife wakes up her kid to see him. So there's inevitably spine-tingling screeches echoing down the hall at that time almost nightly. I'm home a lot more than I used to be. All this noise was present before, but now the nuisance of it is evident in a greater way. However, they keep out of my way. I'm nearly invisible to them up here, and they are always courteous to me when we pass one another on the stairs- which is rarely. I know they time it so that when they hear me approaching, they clear out. I've seen the hem of a tunic peeking out from under their front door as I loped up the stairs, drunkenly. Yet, it's not done in a mean way- they don't treat me as if I'm suspicious. I think they just like to know what's going on. It's a strange situation.
Check out this site for simple, hilarious "news" clips from Andy Borowitz. He's awesome. He makes me laugh in this fucked up political morass we're in. Again. Four more years, my butt. I suggest signing up for his daily e-mail alerts, it's a great way to start your day. Also, bong hits are.
I discovered a kick-ass radio stream on the web. Go check it out, and click on the Brit Pop icon. I've heard World Party, Badly Drawn Boy, Oasis, Stone Roses, and the Soup Dragons today. Word.
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