What makes drunk people believe they are quiet?

So yesterday I sent Gregg Montella 180 alpaca scarves through FedEx. It was supposed to be 200, but that's all I could fit in two boxes to keep it from going over 30 kilos. Gregg contacted me a week or two ago asking if I'd do this, and then when I agreed he wired me the money and covered his expenses nicely. This of course is what I was referring to in my previous post entitled "200 Alpaca Scarves."

We both underestimated the cost, size, and hassle it would be, but I was happy to help for the nice blessing he was giving me for my effort, and the fact he was paying for it himself, otherwise I would not usually do any kind of favor like this for someone.

I recorded a podcast with him and S.J. Hill this week. I've recorded at least one with each of them before, but this was the first time with them both together. Oh man, never has any of our podcast recordings been fraught with so much difficulty of both the technical nature or with keeping a connection on the internet! Maybe the one I did on alcohol with Dan Slavin "back in the day" comes close.

First, the lack of privacy or a good place free from noise poses a problem for me when I'm recording them in my room over Skype, since I've got a door with a huge crack at the top, effectively NOT stopping any noise from the kitchen or living room from traveling to my room. So, my bedroom is far from a recording studio. Living in a house with concrete walls doesn't help keep noise from traveling and echoing either. So to remedy this problem I asked each of the two flatmates who were home if they could keep noise down or not use the kettle that whistles, or the microwave, etc...for a two hour period, to which I was met with a stunning response from one guy who's and nationality and anything else to identify him will be left out so I avoid trashing or gossiping about anybody on my blog.

He told me he doesn't care about anything I'm doing in my room and will do as he pleases because he's mad at what I did to him on the weekend. What did I do? Well, at 1am when he was having some kind of drinking party with the guy across the hall from my room, I asked them to keep it down or go somewhere else, to which they went to his room and got louder. Since his room's window is adjacent to my room's window, it was impossible to sleep through the noise. So I texted the landlady, after 1am, 2am, and then my final text was at 3:30 am. I don't think he was doing it spitefully, but just his judgment was impaired and he genuinely didn't think he was being loud. At that time she and her mother came upstairs (they live below us) and decided it was necessary to have a shouting match from the staircase to his room. Part of me regretted texting her about the noise, but I really thought I'd get to sleep earlier than if I just waited for this mini-party to finish.

They had a huge blow up, and the family we all rent these rooms from don't really like him and he thinks they're crazy as well, so the Spanish competition they were having to see who could be the nastiest with their words, as much as I understood, was right down the hall from my door. It was around 5:30 am that this shouting match was taking place, and was way too much excitement for me to fall asleep right away after hearing. Lo and behold, sunlight was coming up before I finally did.

So, this flatmate was referring to these events, that he somehow deems it my fault he had the altercation with the landlady. He told me I was a snitch (or at least the word for it in French) and that if I had a problem I should have spoken to him directly. Apparently he was too drunk to remember that I did and it only made things worse. And that's what I've done the other times he parties it up--but nothing happens, so I "snitched" to the landlord because I'd like to sleep! I have a bigger room and pay more than this guy, so I'd like to be able to sleep. Fair enough I think. But of course, he insists, as many drunks with their judgment impaired, that he was not making that much noise and I should have tolerated it.

So to spite me he made all the noise he felt like while I was recording, and the casual listener won't notice these problems. But the other unavoidable problem, our internet connection. We had problems with Gregg and SJ hearing me consistently; we had Gregg get disconnected because apparently the power went out at his place in North Carolina. So we finished the latter part today, and couldn't get Gregg in our conference call for some reason. *Sigh*

At any rate, I don't blame the devil for technological problems, but we were talking about a subject matter that I think is real important: holiness and happiness--and we all knew many people need to hear it, so it wouldn't surprise me if some of the problems were spiritual resistance to what we were doing. At any rate, that's the latest.

And boy am I glad to be rid of the alpaca scarves.