an open letter to my loud neighbours

dear apartment 304,

i'd like to start by telling you how we've been neighbours for almost three years now. do you know what that means? it means i've been putting up with your noise for almost three years. in my first year living here, i didn't really know how to react. this was my first apartment. this was my first year in toronto. when i lived in a residence, it was easy for me to yell at my neighbours to shut the fuck up and they would hear me, despite the concrete walls separating rooms. unfortunately, no matter how much i yell through my wall at you to shut the fuck up, you never do.

see, here's the thing: you're louder than i am. i'm not loud. i'm pretty quiet. sure, i can have fun and be social. when i have conversations with friends in my apartment, i'm having a conversation, not a yelling match while we sit next to each other. and these walls? how do you not realize they are paper thin? you know all the construction they do in this building and all the noise? you have to hear it too all the time. it can't just be us.

the first year we were neighbours came and went. i put up with your shit. by the time the second year rolled around, i realized i couldn't function unless i had actually slept. i had early class. i had early work. i had a real job. i slept very lightly. between you, my roommate, and general toronto city noise, i was constantly woken up. do you remember that time you had people over at 4am on a weekday? do you remember how fucking loud you were? i bet you don't. but i sure do. you were so loud that i took a shoe and just banged the wall as loud as i could until you got the fucking memo to shut the fuck up. eventually, you did. it was at this point where i was ready to write you an extremely passive-aggressive note to shut the fuck up during weekdays. but, i held off.

i started using this "bang on the wall until you shut up" technique any time you woke me up and it was an unreasonable hour. for the most part, it worked. the only times when i didn't do this was when you were having loud sex.

remember those paper thin walls? remember how you're loud? remember how your sex is not a porno? yes, it got to a point where i could tell you were faking it. listen, lady. your boyfriend doesn't need the encouragement every single time you have sex. and also, no one has that much great sex all the time. it just doesn't happen. and yes, i know those moans and groans quite well. that's how i know you're faking it. but if i can hear you fake it, it means you're being too fucking loud. there's this thing.. i don't know if you know it, but it's called quiet sex. it's called intimate sex. i can never hear your boyfriend, so for him, it must never be that good. that's why you should definitely stop what you're doing.

this week alone, you've woken me up four different times at unreasonable hours. maybe you're yelling at someone on the phone. maybe you're having loud sex. maybe you're just yelling at each other because you can. maybe you're doing whatever it is the fuck you're doing, but still yelling at each other. that's REAL fucking annoying. even when my roommate and i have people over, you don't hear us. when my roommate and i are in my room talking, you don't hear us. when i'm having sex with a dude, you don't hear us. and i've had some great sex in this apartment. you've still never heard it.

you see, back in kindergarten, we were taught to use our indoor voices and that voices carry. were you not brought up this way? do you not understand that you are the reason why people move in on this floor and move out within the year? it's because i'm not the only neighbour you have. you also share a wall with the apartment directly across the hall from me. i can count at least five people who have moved in and moved out of that apartment over the past three years. we've run into other neighbours on this floor who complain about how loud you are. my roommate and i have come home nights only to hear you "having a party" with what is probably just the two of you and you're so loud that it just sounds like you're actually in the hallway and not in your apartment.

so, last night, when you woke me up at 2am with your loud sex, i was pissed off. i took a shoe and banged on the wall. what did you do? you didn't shut up. you actually banged on the wall back. no, i don't want to join in on your loud sex. i want you to shut the fuck up. i want to sleep without hearing it. after that, i never heard you again. and that's how it should be. i shouldn't hear you in your apartment ever.

seriously, don't make me actually print this blog post and put it in your mailbox. one more incident like this and i'm going to do it.

sincerely,
apartment 303.

toronto living

i officially live in toronto!

i moved in yesterday. i'm all settled and unpacked. my parents helped me move for most of the day after waiting for an hour for corey to open the door to the apartment. we only had one set of keys -- they were with corey. the movers were not impressed. here is the part where i would post pictures of my place, but alas, i am without a camera. one of the many things that i didn't pack.

i spent last night unwinding and catching up with tyler while waiting for corey to eventually come home, as i was now the sole protector of the coveted keys. i did go get them copied. no more waiting up for late corey anymore!

toronto is a loud city. i found it hard to sleep at night. so many sirens and people talking loudly on the street or apartments below. i hope that i'll be able to get over my light sleeping mode soon. i was up bright and early to get ready for my big day today. i commuted to seneca for the first time and met up with steve. he showed me around, i found the majority of my classes, got my osap and my student card. we grabbed a quick lunch at pizza hut and i commuted back home which took less time for some reason. also, on the subway, i definitely saw a dude that used to be in brock residence back in the day. i never met his eyes but i'm absolutely positive it was him. though i had never had a conversation with him in my residence days, i used to see him around constantly (and let's face it, i was pretty much crushin') -- and now i saw him in toronto. small world.

my parents called to inform me that a letter had arrived from seneca saying that i needed to show proof of my degree, proficiency in english at the college level, and a transcript in order to keep my conditional offer of acceptance. and an expiry of september 8. well, fuck. i don't know what i need to do and nobody seemed to give me a hard time today when i was getting all my shit done on campus. and since it's the long weekend, i won't hear from anyone until possibly tuesday. i'll have to wait in ridiculous lines to talk to somebody on tuesday and get it all sorted out.

it's friday night in toronto and i'm exhausted.