Fuck the homeless.

Every Saturday morning, here in Victoria, I have orchestra rehearsal. This is different from the normal rehearsal periods I have become accustomed to (usually evening, ending at around 10: 30ish) These rehearsal start at 9:15 AM, which means I am expected to arrive approximately 20 minutes early to set up and get prepared to play.

Now, I like to think of myself as a prepared morning person. When I know I have something to do in the morning, I am pretty okay at going to bed at an acceptable hour to allow getting up early enough to do it in a manner that is not too groggy or grumpy (in case Jeremy is reading this, things have changed since I was 17).

Unfortunately, my upstairs neighbours have different ideas. I was rudely awakened last night at 3:30 in the AM to a group of drunk 20 somethings yelling and stomping directly above where I sleep. My immediate reaction was to pound on the ceiling in the hopes that they would realize they are disturbing someone who is obviously trying to sleep. I did this at regular intervals for about 20 minutes before finally cracking. They apparently did not take the hint.

I proceeded to get dressed and go upstairs and knock on their door. After three sets of very solid and authoritative knocks, I could hear movement and talking behind the door. From what I could discern this is the conversation that took place:

"Dude, someone is at the door"

"maybe it's the person downstairs. What if they're a dude and they want to fight"

I took a deep breath. The door opened. A young man, probably around my age, perhaps a year or two older, opened the door and seemed surprised to see a young woman waiting on the other side. I introduced myself and politely suggested they quiet down. I explained that I had to be up in approximately 3 hours, and need the sleep. He seemed agreeable. However, his accomplice behind him had a smirk on his face, and conceded that they would "quiet down". I insisted, and added that I could actually overhear finer points of their conversations above my bedroom (one such conversation involved someone saying: "Do you know who I am? Do you know who the fuck I am?" -- I don't, and apparently neither did whoever they were talking to in this anecdote).

After confronting them, I happily walked back to my suite, climbed into my bed, and looked forward to having a restful sleep. Until the upstairs music kicked back in, and I could clearly hear someone upstairs saying:

"So some chick wants us to pipe down. Apparently she has to work tomorrow. Whatever man, who the fuck has a job on a weekend."

I slept with earplugs. Next week, if this occurs again, I am calling the police. I don't want to seem like the Mom from Joe's Garage, but these boys don't know any nice songs...

The next morning, thanks to their consideration, I woke up at 8 :30 and ran to rehearsal down the street. Thankfully, I only live three or so blocks from the rehearsal hall. Rehearsal went okay, and the bass section was actually dismissed early because the violins had to rehearse the Overture to Nutcracker. I was pleased, and trotted down the street with glee.

As I went to cross on to my side of Quadra, I could hear a man screaming something at what I could only assume was an invisible enemy of his that I was incapable of perceiving. This caught me off guard, so I continued to cross the street in this "gentleman's" direction. About halfway across Quadra, I could hear this man start coughing violently. This coughing went on for at least 3 or 4 seconds before he looked at me and proceeded to spit the contents of his mouth in my direction.

Thankfully, the wind was in my favour and his projectile stopped short. However, the psychological damage of the potential harms that would have befallen me had his spit been true to its mark conitnue to irk me. I hastily continued in the direction of my home,a nd warned an elderly couple of the hazards of this spitting hobo. They were thankful.

I immediately got home and made a martini. Now I need a nap. Fuck hobos.

Rifflandia, however, has been AWESOME. More on that later.