Thursday, September 8, 2011

Typo

Earlier today, I put a new event in my phone calendar and didn't pay much attention. I'm meant to pick up my brother at the Grammy's Foundation on Friday.

When I double checked my calendar tonight to prepare for the next couple days, I noticed I had "Granny's" scheduled for Friday.

As I read the word Granny...I froze for a second and had to re-rack my brain.  I actually believed for a moment that my granny (who passed away years ago) was in my schedule.  In a few seconds; I saw her house, her hair and a delicious Little Debbie waiting at her bedside.


So appropriate.  She'd be proud of my Friday, of my month, of my brother's year.  But she'd also remind both of us to mind our manners and to not forget where we came from.

Monday, September 5, 2011

I could be totally wrong.

We live in the periwinkle apartment by the sea.
My neighbors live in the red, echoey apartment a few steps further from the sea.

And I hear their every move.  Seriously.

They listen to NPR starting at 3am.  They watch TV until 2am.  They type, they wash dishes, they vacuum.  They seem to have conversations IN my room.

They're a couple in their late 70s/early 80s and I swear the old man character in Up was based on my neighbor.  However, my neighbor embodies only the sweet, slightly oblivious version of the character in the Pixar movie.

His wife is mean.  M-E-A-N, mean.  She's annoyed with him before he even begins a thought.  Before he can ask a question.  Before he moves, shuffles, breathes.

A common dialogue in their household is:
Wife: "I'm leaving, okay?"
Silence.
Wife: "I'm leaving, OKAAY? [sigh, grunt]"
Husband: "Oh, okay. Have a good day."

Wife: "Yeah. Bye."
Husband: "What?"
Wife: "BYYYYYYYE!"

You need an entire summer with your windows open to fully understand.  But it makes me sad.  Makes me question marriage.  She seems to genuinely hate him.

However, from the small talk my roommate and I have had with Mr. Up, they both played professionally for the philharmonic.  And there are days that the most beautiful violin music seeps out their windows and it's as if I'm at a live concert.  As I hear the notes and the music peaks, I imagine those are the moments they are still in love.

It's hard to say who is playing.  And I can't decide if I want it to be HER as he is reminded of the moment when he fell for her. As she plays, he forgets the moments she's consistently annoyed with him and is just happy they're in the same room.

Or if I want it to be HIM playing as she sits and closes her eyes and quickly falls back in love with him; even if just for that moment.

Doesn't matter really.  When there's music coming from those windows, there are no voices and I close my eyes and see them smiling at one another.