Bungalow ’12 (8-25) quick thoughts

I won’t tiptoe around this.

Instead of spending the summer refinancing, had I known in advance that I’d be living two houses down from a frat house, I’d have spent the summer trying to figure out how to get out of this house. 15 years after graduating, have spent two of those years living among frat houses (actually, quads, and I’m not including my own in the offending parties), why in the world should I be tolerating it now?

It’s not your parties. It’s you. It’s that you have frat-guy-voices, and you don’t modulate. You don’t need to be blaring music to be piercingly annoying at 10pm or 1am or 2 in the afternoon. You don’t know how not to be obnoxious, and you will be from now until May. It’s not a violation of an ordinance or the terms of your lease just to be yourselves. And I don’t know how to be tolerant of this, nor do I have room on my to-do list to try.

It was bad enough having the house three doors down be a frat’s off-campus base of operations for four of the last five years. They’re still here. And now there’s you.

Why should I invest one dime into this house of mine? I can’t imagine finding it pleasant to live here. This WAS a block that already tended to be a bit too loud and disorderly for my liking, with another family’s kids who are usually out-of-control and bass-thumping cars that use this as through street. But I could tolerate it just enough to re-commit for another couple of years. Now, I’m quite sure I don’t want to be here anymore.

I’ve got 18 other problems I’d rather be writing about.

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