Today started off not so good. For the last few nights, the dude who lives above me has been playing his organ from about 2 AM to 8 AM. It's the kind with pedals, so the annoying part isn't the organ sound, it's the incessant thumping. All night. I have a fan on high right next to my ear, but the sound travels through the walls, into my bed, and right into my brain.

The weird thing is, we know his name from his mailbox, and we looked him up online. Turns out he's in a fairly well-known band. So I check their schedule all the time, rooting for a year-long European tour. In fact, I'm thinking about emailing them, pretending to own a club in California, and tell them I'll pay them ten thousand dollars if they come out to play there. That should score me at least a few guaranteed nights of sleep.

Then again, I could just go put a note on his door. But what fun is that?

So, I "woke up" from my "sleep," and some other stuff happened that I was worried about all day. (Purposely being vague here.) By the end of the day, I was feeling better about that stuff, and me and Chan went to do laundry. He wanted some food between the washing and the drying. We went to this place we'd been meaning to go to anyway. I'd already eaten, so I just got a can of Coke. But I saw some black and white cookies, and since I'd just seen that Seinfeld episode an hour earlier, I got the B & W. Which I felt even better about because I'd recently been accused of being a racist on Rally Cuff because I said I felt that Edgar Renteria had a bad season.

Then, the owner dude said started making chit-chat about the World Series. Chan told him that he was a yankees fan and I was a Sox fan. The dude said he was a Mets fan. He said, "So we've got it all covered here." Then he looked at me, smiled, and said, "I never root for the yankees. Whe your two teams play, I always root for Boston." I told him he was my kind of Mets fan. Then, while waiting for Chan's beef stew, we saw a picture of this guy, as a younger man, shaking hands with Chief Brody, Roy Scheider. It looked like it was from an actual movie. We asked him what the deal was, and he told us it was a picture from a movie he was in--The French Connection. Okay, now Chan & I really need to see that movie. TJ by us for never having seen it. (He played a bartender.)

Then, we walked out, psyched to go rent TFC, and I immediately saw a Sox hat, and pointed at it. Chan knows now when I point at someone randomly, it's me showing him a Red Sox fan in his team's city. I saw that hat, and suddenly everything was comin' up Milhouse. The Mets guy, the French Connection, the Sox fan, I couldn't have asked for a better night. A better sober night, that is! Ha ha! Eh. No, I haven't started drinking. Just trying to make the humans relate to me. That one's for you, Rally Cuff. Lighten up, wouldja? :) (She also got pissed at me for being an annoying non-drinking person.)

I can't believe I just did one of those smily faces. TJ.