Someone forgot to take the trash out

I am so frustrated and angry that I just have to vent so that I don't start to cry.

This is my first full weekend here in RuralTown at my off-campus apartment ... and I was really looking forward to it. No long drives ... a chance to relax and settle down. For the most part, it's been rather pleasant. While I thoroughly enjoyed spending time with family and friends for the past two weekends, I was enjoying the chance to rest. I practiced today, went to the grocery store, cooked a yummy meal, baked cookies, and hung out with Green.

While making cookies (for tomorrow's LONG rehearsal with the choir - decided it would be a sweet gesture), I started to get annoyed because the tenants above us were obviously holding a party- LOUD music, lots of clicking shoes and heavy footsteps stomping on the floor, occasional yelling. While it was bothering me, I decided to let it go because it was only 9pm.

At 10:30pm, two girls knocked on my door. I didn't know them, so I asked Green (an intimidating figure) to answer the door for me. He did. The two girls were from upstairs, and they apologized for the inconvenience of the loud music, and said that they'd turn it off within the hour. I didn't show my face to them (and I don't know that they realized that I was there), but I decided that OK, I could cut them a little slack. It wouldn't kill me if it was obnoxious for just another hour.

At 11:45, I was fading ... and I wanted to get ready for bed soon. Church tomorrow morning. Lots of singing. Need lots of sleep. No sound of the party ending. I really didn't want to go talk to those girls, so I tried calling the EMERGENCY number of my landlord ... and wouldn't you know it? It went STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL. Each of the three times I tried calling it. (Waiting some time in between calls.) So I asked Green and one of my roommates to come upstairs with me to ask the girls to please turn off the music.

Knocked on the door loudly. No answer. Knocked again.

"Ooh, someone's at the door!" A voice squealed inside. "It's two white girls and a guy." Few more moments without an answer.

Finally the door was opened a crack so that the girl could see us, and then she opened the door and a few of her friends were behind her.

"Hi," I said, smiling through gritted teeth. "I'm from downstairs, and I," My voice was suddenly drowned out by the loud music. Some incredibly considerate person in the room had decided to blast it at its full volume while I was speaking. So I raised my voice, trying to keep the frustration at a minimum.

"We'd like you to PLEASE TURN DOWN YOUR MUSIC."

And the ever-so-pleasant girl who answered the door took this as a challenge.

"WHY YOU YELLIN' AT ME? You did NOT come here to yell at me! That is so *insert expletive here* ... YOU *$%^& DON'T COME UP HERE TO YELL AT ME!"

It didn't matter that I was simply trying to be heard over the music, that it hadn't been my intention to raise my voice. And she certainly wouldn't give me a chance to say that. Her friends were gathering closer around her, and she was getting in my face and invading my personal space, as though she was about to make this disagreement physical.

Green stepped in between us, and I stayed silent as the drunk girl and her drunk friends traded expletives about the $%^%* girl who was trying to yell at them to be quiet.

"You don't have to $%^(* yell," they screamed in my face. "Just tell us nicely to turn the music down! And why'd you bring this girl and this guy? Just come up by yourself and tell us. Just ask us politely to turn it down!" They shrieked nastily.

Throughout this barrage, I didn't say a word, and I tried to keep my face expressionless.

"Then please turn the music down." I calmly told the last girl who lectured me. She smirked and then glared at me as she shut the door in our faces.

Green, my roommate and I all looked at one another in shock as we stood there. As we walked down the stairs to my apartment, I said, "You know, I thought that calling the cops was too extreme, that we could be mature about this. But now," I continued, keeping my voice light, "I don't have a problem with it. If this doesn't change ..." Roommate agreed wholeheartedly.

When we returned to the apartment, Roommate went in her room and Green got ready to go back to his apartment. I didn't have his number in my phone yet, so he gave that to me.

"Are you going to be OK?" He asked me.

"I don't know what to think," I replied. (Thoughts were swirling around in my mind: Why didn't the landlord answer her freaking phone? ... That girl might have beat me up if Green hadn't stepped in between us ... Should I call the cops? ... In my previous two years as an RA dealing with situations such as this, I never felt as threatened or unsafe as I did just now ... I definitely need to get back in the habit of reading my Bible before I go to sleep-tonight- so that I can be calm and let go of this massive anger I'm feeling.)

"I don't know what to think," I repeated, realizing I was close to tears. Green pulled me into a hug. It felt awkward because while we're friends, we're not that close. I did need a hug though ... and at that moment, I felt incredibly homesick ... for both home and for my friends from UndergradSchool.

Now, nearly an hour after we went upstairs, those obnoxious girls are still yelling and giggling and stomping ... although I no longer hear the THUMP THUMP of the bass from their music. I did call the landlord and I left a very irritated message on the voicemail. I'm listening to my favorite relaxing music as I'm typing this ... crying some now ... and I'm incredibly tired ... and worn ... and ... upset ... Now I'm not so much angry as I am feeling quite discouraged and helpless.

Right ... I need sleep. Things will be better in the morning.