� Memoirs of an Evil Genius �
Conquering the World, One Martini at a Time

� Rear Window �
3:25 p.m., 2006-05-03

Yay! Internet is back! For now. My fingers are crossed, though (which makes it hard to type, har har). Also, I�m very frustrated, because I missed last week�s episode of Veronica Mars, and missed BOTH re-airings because I didn�t find out about them in time, and I�m totally OCD, so now I have to stop watching the show until it comes out on DVD and I can see the episode that I missed, because I DO NOT WATCH MY STORIES OUT OF ORDER. THAT should teach UPN to preempt my shit with motherf***ing baseball.

So this apartment seems to sit peripheral to some kind of romantically destructive nexus, in the eye of a relationshitstorm, if you will. This isn�t a Trouble In Paradise entry, though, so don�t worry�Ulrich and I are still happy. This is about how the neighbor is STILL breaking up with her boyfriend. Seriously, though, the screaming and crying has become a pretty much nightly thing, now. In addition to �never listen[ing] to [her]� he also apparently �never think[s] of [her]� and laughs at her pain, to boot. I�d be a lot more judge-y about that, but...I kind of laugh at her pain, too, frankly. Like last night when she bitched at her mom for rearranging the furniture. �I don�t LIKE it like this! FUuuuuck!� FUuuuuck!�just like that, that sort of pitiful, whiny, descending cadence meant to denote total helplessness and victimization. I snorted so loud I can�t swear she didn�t hear me.

There was some additional boyfriend folderol last night, too, but it�s kind of stopped being amusing and started being kind of painful and embarrassing by proxy, so I�m trying to tune it out when I can. Early on I had some sympathy for her, because it sounded like she was maybe just too young to know that it was okay to break it off for the benefit of her own self-esteem, but now she�s driving me insane.

A few nights ago, the Baton of Divisiveness was passed to someone in the building on the lot next to ours, however. At about three in the morning, we awoke to the dulcet tones of some woman screaming at the top of her lungs about some guy being a worthless something-or-other. There seemed to be a third party in the room trying to calm everybody down, but she should probably get fired off that shit, because McScreamy? BROKE A GLASS. Or a plate, or something, but it sounded an awful lot like a glass to me. Who throws a glass, for real? I mean, that�s some Joan Crawford shit, right there. This fight was a lot more interesting than the neighbor�s, because for them it�s always the same tired schtick, night after night�like, you know how you used to tune in to Dawson�s Creek every week, because the previews always promised some life-changing upheaval would be taking place, and love would be torn asunder and all that, and so you watched it and the characters had the same stupid, uninspired bickering matches, and in the end everything went right back to the way it was at the top of the story and nobody learned, and nobody grew, and nobody moved on, and you got really pissed off at how tyrannically bad the writing was, and you wanted your money back even though you didn�t have to actually PAY for the episode, but then the previews would make it look like Joey would FINALLY tell Dawson to sit and spin for good, so you decided you�d watch the next episode anyway, and it was lather, rinse, repeat? We�ve never heard these other people fight, though, so it really grabbed our attention. Ulrich probably didn�t help matters, though, because right after the glass broke, he sort of shouted, �MAZEL TOV,� out the window.

It didn�t stop there, either. A day or so later, I heard someone in the same building screaming pitifully at someone about something rather serious that they might have done. There were no details to catch�although from what little I was privy to, I�m just as happy about that�but it devolved into some of the most wretched sobbing I�ve heard in a very, very long time.

Now that I�m home alone all day, with nothing to keep me company but the computer, the TV, and this book that I CANNOT PUT DOWN�seriously, I am Sue Grafton�s bitch, people�I�m very easily enticed by the siren song of drama unfolding outside my window.

But if I go missing in the next few days or so, tell the cops to search Raymond Burr�s place!

Today�s Trivia Factoid: Bob Hope was the most oft-featured guest on Johnny Carson. I�m Watching: 24. How do I love thee, Chloe? Let me count the ways. Before you zap me with a taser. I�m Reading: S is for Silence, by Sue Grafton. But honestly, I think the woman could write the ingredient list on a candy bar and I�d be enraptured. Love. Her.

A Year Ago, I Said:

...and then he asked the $64,000 question: �Do you want to be arrested for trespassing?� Um...no?

A Funny Thing Happened On the Way to the After Party
5-3-2005

� 2005 by Dr. No, all rights reserved; you break it, you buy it.



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