A couple things I want to get out of the way before the main post that has absolutely nothing to do with running. Or really anything. So sorry if you're bored to tears.
1) By a couple twists of fate (mainly being able to get a random bib and having easy access to Sacramento), I'm running CIM. So is 50% of the rest of the running blogger community! I don't know if I'm excited or not, but it's happening ready or not. After CIM, I want to focus on either the 5k or the half. Time to try to PR in shorter stuff. If possible. If you're up at CIM let me know so we can say hi or look for each other!
2) Compex has a 20% off code for their machines. I know these things aren't cheap, if I do think it's pretty sweet if you're in the market.
Code = TU20 http://www.shopcompex.com
3) It's past Thanksgiving, but I wanted to say thank you for reading my blog. It's very fun to be able to have a voice and even better to be able to meet people through the blog. I know there are a billion other blogs to read and you are busy. So thank you.
I live in an apartment complex that is poorly constructed. It's probably about the same quality as 90% of the thin-walled, made-for-10-years-of-use apartments throughout west LA.
Which means I can hear almost every move my neighbors make. And they can probably hear me too. This was fine until about a month ago. A song here, an explosion from a movie there, what sounds like a giant dog running around the floor...sure, why not. Comes with living in an apartment, right?
But about a month ago, something changed. "Never-sleeping-dudebro" moved into the complex. I don't really know about the comings and goings of my neighbors but this guy has made his presence known morning, noon, and night. I feel like I know him better than I should based on his blasted musical selections of Sublime, Third Eye Blind, and The Foo Fighters.
AT 7 AM!!!
It's like he's partying like it's 1997 and there's no stopping him.
"Bump. Bum. Bum." is pretty much what I hear when getting ready for work, making dinner, and getting ready for bed.
"If it really bothers you just go ask him to turn it down."
Too easy. So I did nothing. Then I fumed a few more days and got up the courage to knock on the wall we share. No dice - same noise.
Yesterday night I finally got the courage to walk down the hall and ask dudebroneversleeps to turn down his speakers. I knocked on the door next to me, and after a couple minutes a confused looking old guy answered the door and said "May I help you?".
There was no music. Clearly this wasn't the right apartment. I explained that I hear loud music 12 hours a day every day and that I had thought it was him.
"Yeah I hear that too! I've filed a couple complaints and nothing! I think it's the guy above us."
Now I was on a mission. I thanked the old dude and ran up the stairs. I could hear music blasting from this apartment. I had found my culprit.
All of a sudden I got scared. What if this guy is a serial killer and he plays loud music to lure people to his apartment to kill them? After all, what kind of weirdo needs 120 decibels at all times and doesn't respond to complaints? Visions of a Dexter-like episode went through my head and I stepped away from the door.
"Well at least that old guy from downstairs knows I'm here if I get killed. They'll track this guy down in a minute if I go missing", I thought.
I knocked on the door. ....A dog growled and the music turned off. My life flashed before my eyes.
"Shit he's got a giant monster dog too!", I thought. "Maybe first the dog attacks and then he does!".
And then...a small, 23 year old, Mark Zuckerberg look-alike type dude holding a cute 10 pound dog opened the door. There was a giant lit Christmas tree in the background. Not what I was expecting at all!
"Hi? Uh I'm Margot. I live downstairs. Uh...your music is a little loud. Would you mind not playing it early in the morning or late at night?"
He looked embarrassed. "Yeah definitely! I had no idea people could hear it. Sorry about that!".
Wow. Too easy.
I said thank you and goodnight and went back to my apartment. It was blissfully quiet. I sat back down on the couch and put up my feet. And contemplated how I made that much harder than it needed to be. Maybe it's just tough to talk to strangers, even if they are my neighbors. But it worked out ok. I guess I should meet the rest of my neighbors too. You never know when you'll need a cup of sugar, right?
This place is gonna be all hella Mayberry.
Well maybe not, but at least it might be quieter.