Wednesday, April 19, 2006 Listening In So my methods of procrastination here at Day Job are vast and many; when you've got an unsupervised Internet connection and no real responsibility, the world's your oyster. But my current hobby of preference is one that I started up fairly reluctantly; it's not that I WANT to listen in on my fellow cube rats as they gab on the phone, but they're not exactly quiet and even my poor hearing is hostage to their choice of volume. Thus, I sit and I listen. You might not think that listening to two different women talk endlessly to their friends, loved ones, and etceteras would be terribly interesting, but I've gotten kind of addicted. Those damn voyeuristic tendencies of mine. And it's kind of fun to put together portraits of these people based on these phone conversations. Right now, I know the most about my closest neighbor, the one with the annoying cell phone ring. A consultant brought in to help with some budgeting stuff, she's French-Canadian, owns a house in Maryland but is taking this three-month assignment to figure out if she wants to move back to LA, close with her parents, Jewish, speaks some bare-bones French but always slides back to English a few minutes into a conversation, single and a bit in love with Michael Vartan. She fell while ice skating back in Maryland, and tore her rotator cuff; she's in physical therapy until she has time to go into surgery, which is the preferred treatment for "a woman of her age." Her voice is rich and low, the kind belongs to a '40s screen actress, face framed with that flattering halo of cigarette smoke; when I see her on my way to the bathroom, I never recognize her right away. Because she's no Bette Davis; she's short, bland face, a little heavy but settled into it. Comfortable. The sort of woman who's figured out her life, figured out where she's going, what she needs to know now, what she can leave for later. Not exactly happy, but not exactly sad, either. Content, and resigned, and maybe just a little relieved to be able to stop dreaming the foolish dreams of youth... ...And all while doing shit like REVEALING THE MAJOR PLOT TWISTS OF THE ALIAS SERIES FINALE WHILE I SIT RIGHT NEXT DOOR. Bitch. | permalink blog • archives • photos • about • contact This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License. All content © 2004.