Page 23

This morning I was woken up to shrieking at 3:30am. Convinced it was just me (or Fitz) experiencing night terrors and moaning in my sleep, I tried to ignore it. But it persisted. It got louder. It took over my subconscious. And then I was able to realize that the screaming wasn’t emanating from me, but from the crazy renters that have the unit across the hall from ours who were having a fight. Now, usually I’m immune to their CONSTANT, LOUD fighting over who hates the other more, but you guys. This was at 3:30 in the morning and I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but the only thing in the world I love more than macarons and all white interiors is sleeping. Sleeping is the love of my life, and if you try to come between us, be prepared for me to forcibly remove your head from your body with my bare teeth.

So as if being woken up at 3:30 in the morning was offensive enough, the piece de resistance was what they were fighting over: their pet rabbit. I have so many problems with this, but two really stick out. A) How does one get into an argument about a rabbit at 3am? and B) Get rid of the rabbit and get a real animal. Actual dialogue exchanged at full volume and heard through our bedroom wall: Crazy girl: “You’re not a man, you’re a boy! Take care of your f*^#ing rabbit!” Crazy boy: “I’m going to move out and get my own apartment!” Me: “THANK GOD.”


Anyway, my friend Sabina recently sent me this video without any explanation, but when I watched it I totally understood why she thought of me. It’s a short film called “Page 23” that was shot in 48 hours for a film competition in Utrecht this year. Each team was given a prop (glasses) and a line of dialogue (“Amazingly beautiful, yet hoplessly impractical”) and was given two days to write, shoot, and edit a movie. What follows is incredibly impressive and so, so up my alley.

If it were at all plausible to live in an IKEA catalog for a year, don’t think I wouldn’t be the first person in line. Especially if it meant I didn’t have to deal with the lunatics next door and their rabbit issues.

11 thoughts on “Page 23

  1. That’s such a creepy film! My favourite thing is that Swedish for ‘what the fuck?’ is apparently ‘what the fuck?’. Didn’t really need that bit translated.

    I’m off to put price labels over all of my furniture so that it looks like that in photos.

    (I’d quite like a bunny)

  2. This summer when we went to Atlanta to see my in laws we stayed in a hotel (which was brilliant, by the way). So it was this ritzy downtown Atlanta hotel that promised ‘amazing views’ but when we got there all we could really see was the top of a parking lot and a huge Conan O’Brien billboard staring into our room. I was, needless to say, a tad disappointed. I am, apparently, the only one in my family who gets bothered by this stuff. My husband and son kept pretty much telling me to get over myself. Which (suffering in silence) I tried to do.

    Anyhoo, the next morning, my husband and son go off without me and for a little while I’m alone in the room. Suddenly from next door this couple breaks out into this enormous fight. Banging of furniture, loud cursing and yelling, smacking noises, the works. I sat there for a second, paralyzed, thinking, “We have to move. We can’t stay here. This isn’t safe. But if I go move us, Neel is going to think it’s all because of the view.”

    Yeah. We moved. Our new room had an AWESOME view. Plus we got a fruit basket.

    1. Fruit basket!! Total win-win. Though if the couple hadn’t started a domestic brawl in the room next door, I think I could’ve lived with the giant picture of Conan staring at me. Haha. Maybe not, though. Did anything happen to the couple? I bet you they didn’t get a fruit basket. Good call on moving rooms though!!

  3. Dare I say, you may need to go Glenn Close on the rabbit? Too drastic? How about an anonymous note under their door informing them that you heard EVERYTHING. Too passive aggressive? Ok, I got nothing.

    Years ago, I lived in a basement apartment in Boston on Marlborough Street (fancy neighborhood, crappy digs) and my neighbors above me would have the loudest sex. The kind a pillow over your head with earplugs couldn’t muffle. Then, I would see them in the hall and feign happy greetings. I don’t know which is worse, fighting or loud sex?

    Feeling bad for your sleep torture…

    1. The problem isn’t the rabbit, the problem is the insane couple. And I don’t want to get arrested for murder or anything, and I literally did just have another crazy neighbor leave an angry unsigned letter under my door (the building is full of crazies), so I don’t want to pay the passive agressive forward either. I’m stumped! I think the only logical reaction would have been to call the police for a domestic dispute, because that definitely would have shut them up. Or made them even more mad because they would have insisted the other was to blame. I can’t wait until they move. Or break up. Something.

      I love Boston! But I think I would have liked it A LOT LESS had I had to deal with those neighbors of yours. I’m pretty sure listening to loud sex is way worse, because at least listening to a couple fighting is mildly entertaining because it’s like a live episode of Jerry Springer or something and it simultaneously makes you feel better about your own relationship. Listening to loud sex is just uncomfortable! Good thing you moved!

  4. Oof loud sex is the worst. Loud FRENCH sex is the worst times TEN.

    The fighting, while annoying, is also worth a little comedy value. (Arguing about a rabbit at 3am is chuckle-worthy.) We have a “woman” (in the loosest sense of the word) who has a bit too much down the pub, and stumbles down our street and stands under the neighbour across from us’ window and shouts, “GARRRRYYYY…I fockin’ LUV yeh! GARRRRRRYYYYYYYY!”, to which he replies by leaning out of his window (all of this in the wee hours) and screaming “Get the FOCK away from my HOUSE you crazy slag!”. Meanwhile we sit behind the closed shutters and try to peep out, snickering like schoolgirls. There are a few different variations, too, to keep up on the edge of our seats.

    Neighbours are…awesome.

    1. Hahahah you’re right, French loud sex is a million times worse than regular sex. What was that neighbor’s name again? Jean-Luc? Something super French and creepy, haha.

      But you’re totally right, the entire idea of fighting about a rabbit is ridiculous enough, but choosing to do so at 3:30 just doubles the value. I don’t know how you cope with that crazy drunk lady yelling on your street at night. Poor Gary, though, too. Obviously he does not reciprocate her love, but it might be easier for everyone involved if he did! I love the mental image of you and Ban sitting in your house looking through the shutters in the dark. If they’re putting on a free show, you might as well enjoy it!

      I think this is just all the more reason to move to Finland for you :)

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