Thursday, June 18, 2009


The landlord is here today, mowing and trimming. And making a lot of noise.

I hate noise. Living in a city, you'd think that would be a bit of a problem. And, depending on my mood, it is. There's a fair amount of traffic on my street and if I'm feeling irritable, which I am right now, a deep-in-my-chest, hot irritable, it can get hard for me to tune things out. There are also a surprising amount of birds but them I don't mind so much.

We didn't listen to a lot of music growing up and I wonder if that's contributed to my love of silence. I like to listen to music when I'm driving and when I'm exercising, and that's pretty much it. When I'm visiting friends who consider music a part of their everyday existence, who have it on perpetually in the background, I feel a little trapped by it. It's weird.

The Babcia was a pianist, and attended the New England Conservatory, but none of her musical talent was passed down to me. Instead, I got her man legs. Thanks, lady!


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