!*#(&)^$ORUI

March 31st, 2007, 1:06 AM. This evening marks a prime example of why I hate my living situation in Austin, Texas.

It's late, and a rare night that I don't have to wake up at 8AM to get ready for my 9-7 shift at work because I have the day off. But this is also a rare night that I have time to catch up on my readings for a test coming up and also to get some long awaited homework completed.

And being the weekend, the campus libraries are all closed well before midnight, so I am left to study at my quiet home.

And so I prepare my desk, my laptop, and my notepad to do some serious note taking. I start perusing the questions I need to answer, flip through the table of contents to find out which article I need to read, and start reading the article. I get through the first few bullshit introduction paragraphs and I'm finally getting to the confusing part that I need to really nail for the test.

Then I hear a piercing drunken shriek from below "WHOOOOO CALL JOSHUA. CALL JOSHUA HE KNOWS. TRUST ME JUST CALL JOSHUA!!!!!" followed by off-tune singing of 3 drunken girls to some white old school song that only hicks would know the lyrics to. I try to ignore it and keep reading over Hamilton's inclusive fitness rules on siblicide (sounds complicated huh? you don't even know..) but they keep screaming at the top of their voices for no fucking reason.

And then I decide that maybe I should call the cops. But knowing APD and the fact that they are girls by the pool, I already know that calling the cops will be futile. In the past I've reported drug usage and underage drinking and the cops still didn't come, so why the hell would they come to tell three half naked girls by the pool to shut up?

And this, my friends, is why I have come to HATE Austin, TX. Yes, it was fun as a young adolscent that partied all the time, but I'm 7 weeks from graduating, and I want to settle down and grow up, not grow DOWN.

Of course when explaining this to my dad and asking to move to a more quiet complex, he didn't understand at all. And since he bought the unit I live in for me, I can't move..until I graduate. Or until I can pay for my own apartment elsewhere, because he paid for it, just for me.

Too bad the realtor conveniently left out how fucking LOUD this complex can be, huh?

I'm ready to move to the quiet suburbs of houston, tx..or the quiet hills of far west..