High-Kicks and the Dance Party Next Door

If I were to ever gather up the courage to knock on my neighbors' door, there would be two things I would ask them to never do again. One would be to TURN DOWN the dance club music at 4:00 a.m. and the second thing would be to never again light a cigarette. I don't really know what kind of cigarettes they smoke, but I'm guessing that they're the cheapest ones that can legally be manufactured in the United States and as a result they smell awful. I'm going to cite these two reasons as why I'm not going to renew my lease here. That's all the revenge I've got.

I don't want to jump the gun, but I think this semester is going to be way better then the last one. I think I actually like all my classes and professors, though Monday is going to be tedious. My first class starts at 1:00 (no complaints here) and I then proceed to have three classes in the same room until 7:30. That's a long stretch to be in a windowless, cramped, basement seminar room. Part of that is a three hour studio where this semester we're going to be working with the dance department. The dance professor, in all seriousness, asked when our class could get together with him to work on our high-kicks, so it should be fun.