More about life with my ARMY boyz

So, in response to Heidi and Rachel's comments, and just as an update...I'm not really trying to be nice to the boyz, specifically, but I am trying to avoid being the "bitchy landlady". I mean, it is their home, too. I keep thinking I'd like to crash the party, but I actually ended up having a dream about it last night (thanks, Rachel!!) and it was bad because the whole time of the dream I was having all this social anxiety because my socks didn't match and my pants were too short (pretty much my standard wardrobe) and the kids were all ignoring me no matter how hard I tried to get their attention, like they were just hoping if they pretended not to see me, that I'd just go away. Oh, and there were a LOT more stairs in the dream house than there are in my house, and I also think there was a velvet room. Bow-chicka-bow-bow...

Thing is, whenever I've lived in first-floor apartments, I've had this problem with the sounds from above. It just happens that the boyz are also a little louder than your typical apartment dwellers. However, some good news is that the cotton really helped last night, and tonight they've been vewwy, vewwy quiet upstairs (so far). Oh, and I think they had actually tried to call me last night to let me know they were having the party, because I noticed on my phone today that one of them called me a little after 7. I was probably in the car and didn't hear the phone ring, which kind of sucks because I could have saved myself some of last night's misery by going to the bookstore, which I had originally considered doing but then had changed my mind, so I guess the real lesson of all this is: don't skip the bookstore, and you won't have to worry about the stompy boys. Who knew books could once again save the day?