Changes

So anyway. I haven't posted for a while, and things have changed. A lot.
The catalyst for this change was a woman. Actually more specifically two women.
The first was my neighbour. She moved into the little block of student housing I was living in, and at first, all was good. Then she started going out clubbing. On a Friday or Saturday, there would be much loud music, then she would breeze out and return at around three in the morning, and play some more loud music. Hip Hop music. I hate Hip Hop. Then she got a boyfriend. I know she got a boyfriend because the first night she bought him back to her room I got to hear, at three am, all about why he had to wear a condom before she would let him fuck her, because she had had an STD before and didn't want one again. (Did I mention that the drunker she is, the louder her voice gets?). Then he fucked her. About four times. She's a screamer. This set a bit of a pattern. Gradually, over the course of a couple of months, things got progressively worse. The loud music was played at all hours of the day and night, every day of the week, the sex was frequent and also noisy, and my previously peaceful life was shattered. Things finally reached a head one Friday night. She went through her pre clubbing routine, and after she left, I fell asleep, secure in the knowledge that I could sleep in the next morning as I didn't have work. About 2am I get woken up by Justin Timberlake ext door telling me he's bringing sexy back. For forty minutes I listen to him, and various other artists singing a variety of crap songs about how gangsta they are. Then I hear a knocking outside my door. I stagger out of bed, open the door, and there is really pissed neighbour chick knocking on her door. "I got locked out" she slurs at me. "What the hell" I reply. It's okay she drunkenly informs me. Her mate has a key, she'll go get it. Off she staggers. I head back to bed. And lie awake listening to the extremely loud music coming from her room. About an hour later two things dawn on me. She isn't coming back anytime soon, and that motherfucking hip hop compilation CD is on repeat. So I listen to Justin Bringing sexy back. For twelve fucking hours. That's right, it's two in the afternoon before this bitch finally returns and shuts off the music and I can, at long last, sleep. I slept for two hours. The the music started again. Pleas with her to turn it down fell on deaf ears.
That is where the second woman comes in. She is the assistant manager at my work. For the past few weeks, on a Tuesday night, a group of us would gather at her place out in Ngaruawahia, one of us would cook a dinner, and we would sit around drink wine and shoot the shit. After I described my issues with my existing living arrangements, Ange mentioned she was looking for a boarder for the sleep out on the back of the garage. An arrangement was reached, and now I live in there. My peace is still shattered by her four kids, but at least they all go to bed at a reasonable hour.