For When Your Neighbor Wakes You with Noise from Music, Sex, and Snoring

I’m writing this in a most disgruntled fashion at 1:30am.

My downstairs neighbor must be the freaking Beethoven of our generation because this idiot seems to only want to play the piano at insane hours of the night.

My building has quiet hours that start at 9pm and a violation of that once in a while is not a big issue; HOWEVER, this joker has been made aware several times that his neighbors are trying to sleep and would rather not hear his playing so late at night!

During the day and early evening?


Did I mention this guy also saws logs at night? Seriously, his snoring alone has woken me up from a very deep slumber.

Tonight, he took it to another level when his lady friend came over.


  • 12:30am–my eyes snap open when the piano starts.
  • Shortly after, moaning (that sounds as if a cat is being drowned) begins–I deduce that these are the lady’s sex noises.
    • This ends more quickly than I think is fair to m’lady.
  • Now, the LOUDEST pillow talk I’ve heard in my entire life begins.
  • Next, the front door loudly closes shut–little lady is heading home at 1:30am.
    • No Sleepover? RUDE.

I’m sure I will be treated to his snoring in no time.

Regardless, I’m pissed as hell. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he “got some”. It’s not the short-lived sex noises that bother me. It’s the PIANO PLAYING. I would’ve been perfectly asleep for the rest of it had he not chosen to tickle the ivories before tickling his lady’s fancies.

So, after emailing my apartment manager (who happens to be my neighbor) about the midnight serenade (leaving out the sexual details) what do I do?


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It’s Britney, B*tch.

You may remember me whetting your Pop Princess/Diva appetites not too long ago.

I’ve kept you all waiting long enough.

It’s time to spill the sequined and glitter covered beans on Britney Spears’ Vegas show.

Driving to Vegas is incredibly common for those that are journeying from LA–but after the first hour, the desert scenery gets a little too tedious for me, so I chose to take the one hour plane ride from LAX instead.

I met up with one of my BFFs who flew all the way from Seattle to complete the Holy Pilgrimage of Mid-90’s Nostalgia.

We spent a joyous Saturday romping through Las Vegas, eating at such prestigious establishments like Twin Peaks (click that link…just do it. So classy.) and shopping for pretty, shiny things at Tiffany & Co.

Before the concert, my pal needed to get some gear to complete her Britney ensemble, so we ventured to the Planet Hollywood Hotel and Resort to locate the Britney gift shop.

Yes. An entire store dedicated to selling merchandise related to her show.

Shirts. Mugs. Leggings with Britney’s image plastered on every inch of them. Shot glasses. Bags. And of course–undies:



Because who wouldn’t want the title of one of her songs etched across their derrière?

Most of the swag available for purchase had the word “Bitch” worked into most of the catchphrases: It’s Britney, Bitch. It’s Vegas, Bitch. Work, Bitch. So maybe not a store you’d want to bring your kids to.

As the time drew nigh, we migrated over to the theatre and stood in line among a gathering of people so thick that you were required to cling to the limbs of your party to stay together.

Thousands. And I mean THOUSANDS of people were gathered in the lobby (which included a bar in the dead center) waiting to enter the theatre. And at over $100 per ticket, I knew Planet Hollywood had to be raking it in. The most surprising fact? Most of them were well over 30 years old and not one child could be seen in the entire crowd. In fact, I spotted more than one geriatric music lover in line for the show–they looked even more hyped than most of the younger people.

We entered the theatre and I was floored by the number of seats that were quickly being filled–I didn’t see an empty one in the entire building. There was a VIP section closer to the stage and 2 open pits filled with people directly in front of that. All of a sudden, the people standing in the pits turned to the VIP section and hurriedly started snapping pics on their phones and a general murmur of celebrity rose up from the clumps of revelers.

“I MUST KNOW WHO IS DOWN THERE,” I alerted my fellow concert goers. The Pit People looked incredibly excited to be in the presence of whomever that VIP was, but a wall kept me from seeing into the section. We didn’t find out until much later that it was Tyra Banks (a bit of a let down considering how ape sh*t those people went) but glad to see that she’s riding the Britney train.

The countdown to the show popped up on the screen at 18 minutes and people went WILD. It was crazy to me to think that all of these people were there to see a show that we all instinctively knew would be lipped synched by the headliner. It’s her reputation, and it doesn’t seem like she’s ashamed to embrace it.

Go her! I’d rather hear all of the right notes and not sacrifice the spectacle of dance then here someone huff and puff across the stage in an effort to do both simultaneously.

Then, she came out fast and strong with one of her newest jams “Work Bitch” and we were all HOOKED. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t uttering a single word, she was dancing and lip synching her heart out. I had low expectations considering her spotty record with her mental state and performances (gotta love the woman, she always rises from her crashed & burned flames like a phoenix from the ashes) but she exceeded them all.

There was fire, there was a stage-wide waterfall, there were acrobatics, and fully functioning people sized “hamster wheels”–it had everything you’d expect from such a flamboyant performer.

As luck would have it, my phone was slowly dying from the minute we walked in, so I didn’t get too many shots. But I preferred it that way–I was much more “in the moment” much more focused on taking in the show, taking in my friends’ impressions of each number by looking at their euphoric faces, and watching this crazy excited man in front of us who had brought his mother to the show (apparently, her favorite song is “Toxic” because he turned to her and yelled, “Mom! It’s your favorite” as soon as the first couple of beats dropped).

But here are a few shots:

The set for "Everytime"...I think. I can't remember a lot of which songs go with which set because they were mostly compilations of a ton of her hits--I think over 20 songs!

The set for “Everytime”…I think. I can’t remember a lot of which songs go with which set because they were mostly compilations of a ton of her hits–I think over 20 songs!

This is one of the set pieces for...hmmm...I don't remember which song but it was an incredible structure.

This is one of the set pieces for…hmmm…I don’t remember which song but it was an incredible structure.

Can you guess which song this was for? Hint: it rhymes with Smirk-ess.

Can you guess which song this was for? Hint: it rhymes with Smirk-ess.

All in all, I would heartily recommend this show to anyone who felt moved by her performances in the Mickey Mouse Club. Or who perhaps got a little too excited that she wore a “Catholic School Uniform” in “…Baby One More Time”, not unlike the one you wore to school every day for 9 years.

You got ’til next year, you guys, and then who knows where Brit Brit will take off (probably global domination–one lip synch at a time).


I I I Wanna Go Go Go All the Way Way Way

If you got the song I was referencing in the title of this post–10 POINTS to you, you go, Glen Coco!

Someone is in Las Vegas this weekend.

Hint: It’s me.

My former tween-aged self is rearing her barely groomed head in the form of traveling 5 hours from LA to Sin City for the next three days.

All to perform a 1990’s pilgrimage to see the Prophetess End-of-Century of Pop in Residence: Miss Britney J. Spears.

I’m currently seated next to one of the only working outlets in the Las Vegas Airport waiting for one of my many companions’ arrival. More details will emerge as this weekend of unadulterated bliss unfolds.

To get myself pumped up for what promises to be a tromp through the musical minefield of nostalgia, I’ve been perusing some Buzzfeed links that I’m going to leave here for you (to live vicariously through me).

You’re Welcome.

How Big of a Britney Spears Fan Are You?

The 5 Best Things We Learned About Britney Spears from her 1999 Twist Magazine Questionnaire

The 20 Best Amazon Reviews of Britney Spears’ Debut Album from 1999

When I Was Britney Spears’ Biggest Fan: A Collection

Aaaaand my favorite song from the debut album (or, at least it was my favorite in 1999–those lyrics. So Inspired.):


P.S. While compiling this list, actor Tracey Morgan walked past me with his sweet baby daughter. I’m not sure I’m supposed to type that–what happens in Vegas is supposed to stay in Vegas.