Friday, February 27, 2009

Tell Me That You Love Me, Yeah-uhhhh

As you may know, I live in the basement and over the past year, I've grown accustomed to the family's morning pitter patters on the floor above.  This skill has served me well.

For example, if Trixie has eaten a bowl of sugah for breakfast and is running marathons overhead, I know to brace myself as I emerge from the basement since she is likely to pounce as soon as the door is opened.  

The kitchen chairs also make a very distinct sound as the twins scrape them away from the computer.  When I don't hear this sound on a Saturday morning, I know that one of two things is happening: Coco has lost her shit and they're cowering in fear, far away from the computer or they're at a friend's house.  Either way, it's a twinz-free zone for a few hours.  

Or, this morning, for example.  I woke up with Chaka Khan playing on repeat in my head.  But I had to wait about half an hour for the footsteps to subside so I could head to the shower the recording studio to work on my rendition of Tell Me Something Good (I play all the parts - including the synthesizers).  


  1. Thank the lord for thin floors in expensive houses. If I'm ever a gagillionaire, my floors will be made of 3 feet of solid concrete thanks to my own basement experience.

  2. So what are we doing Saturday night?