THE 9 MONTH LONG FUED WITH MY NEIGHBOR.

July 2017 was a month of utter excitement: my boyfriend and I moved into an apartment together. Everyone has experienced the bliss of a new relationship, and the exciting big step of moving in together. Seeing each other all the time, cooking meals together, telling each other good morning instead of sending a text, putting down the toilet seat for your boyfriend, pretending his work boots don't give off an odor that makes you want to twist your nipples off and jump off your second story apartment. Ahhh, all of the joys.

Our situation is a bit different, as he works nights. I leave for work before he comes home, and once I get home from work, he leaves ten minutes later. It gets rough sometimes, but we make it work. With him working nights, that leaves me at home alone. For the most part, I enjoy it, because ima independent woman and i don't need no man. My nights mainly consist of Netlfix and dozens of trips to the fridge to find nothing to eat. My nights consisted of relaxation...Until the fiestas began and my life of relaxing ended.

Our neighbors are loud. And I mean LOOUUD. It's a party in their apartment 24/7, and I'm never invited. All you can hear is laughing and yelling and music. They wouldn't have to talk so loudly if they'd just turn down their fucking terrible taste in music. I don't know, it just seems like a no-brainer to me, but what the fuck do I know, I'm not cool enough to fiesta with them. They're so loud, I can hear them piss. I'm not even close to kidding. Like, what are they doing? Power pissing? I've tried it before, and I'm not even that loud. Or even that good at it. I could write you a timeline of their day, because they don't know how to walk like a normal human being that isn't wearing concrete boots. I could tell you if they didn't empty out their pockets before throwing their pants in the washer, by the sound of the coins flipping and flopping around. And I can tell when they leave work and are on their way home, because I can hear their car music from 7,000 miles away.

My tv has a max volume of 100. I know this, because I have to watch my Netflix binging at this volume because of them. And for shits and giggles, I'll even run the dishwasher to help muffle their agonizing loudness. Even with all the commotion I created, I could still hear them.

For quite a few months, I let it slide. And by 'let it slide', I mean: 'I didn't have the balls to do anything about it, so I just to non-stop bitched about it to my boyfriend until his ears bled'. Bless his heart, he never complained about my complaining. And trust me, complaining is like, my all-time favorite thing to do because I'm so good at it. So I do it a lot.

Then, I graduated from 'letting it slide' to growing one ball. Only one, though. Baby steps. I began throwing anything I could get my hands on without getting up because Netlfix makes me lazy. I'd throw anything at the wall that separates my apartment from the party zone, just to shut them up. Pop bottles, pillows (zero effect, obviously), quarters, I wanted to throw my remote, but I knew I'd eventually have to get up to go get it so I could up my volume to 100. Although throwing things did absolutely nothing to quiet the commotion, it did help me feel better that I was actually doing something about it. Regardless of how stupid and ineffective it was.

Graduation time again. "Congratulations Nikki, you have now graduated to TWO WHOLE BALLS! We are so proud of you" . It was my time to shine. This graduation happened very recently, about three months ago. My two whole balls gave me the courage to get up and pound on the wall when the fiesta was too fiesta-y for me. Things quieted down for about a minute, and then gradually made it back to full on fiesta. I'd also yell "shut up" every once in awhile, but that had no effect, other than making me feel a bit better. I bitched to the manager twice, and she complained with me, as she's had to ask them multiple times to quiet their ugly car music as they pull up.

Let's fast forward this shit-show to now. For the last couple weeks, it's been dead silent in there. No fiestas. No power-pissing. Nothing. I don't think they moved out, because you know as much as I do, that I would've heard all of it. I'm beginning to wonder if they're even alive in there. It doesn't matter, because I'm counting this as a win, and that is all I care about. Nikki "TWO BALLS" Williams may have lost some of the battles, but god damn it, she has won the 9 month long war.