Okay, this is what I get for trying to be artsy.

See, I am paying out the ass to have a window seat in my living room, and an extra closet in my bedroom. Every now and then, I have misgivings about that--until late last night, when i happened to peer out the window, and saw the moon rising in the East. I had a pretty darn good view. So I thought, "Hey, I'll take a picture of the moon and the window seat!" So I did.

(Please make note of the fact that I did not capture the moon all that well. It is a wee, tiny, ickle speck in the picture. See that yellow speck, really close to the right edge of the window? That's not it. That's the streetlight. The tinier, more wee speck, a little higher up near the eve, that's the moon. I'm not so good with figuring out night pictures.)

So, I continue on with my task of organizing my desk (read: putting away reciepts and then getting distracted by Target and Overstock.com) when five minutes later, there is a knock on my door. Please note that it is past one in the morning. The only thing I can figure is that one of my neighbors is annoyed with the fact that I am playing music. Me and Dar Williams, we were rocking out last night, you see. Chagrined, I turn down the volume, go to the door, and look out the peephole. No one.

I return to my desk, and about twenty seconds later, there is another knock. I look out the peephole. Still no one. Without opening the door, I call out "Yes?" A voice responded, "It's your neighbor."

I still can't see him. And it's not very easy to carry on a conversation from behind closed doors. I'm thinking, "Oh my god, this is it. It's some drugged up cat-molesting serial killer secret alien agent who is trying to get me to open the door so he can stage a home invasion. I am GOING TO DIE before I even lived a week in California. Why the hell did I come here?"

So, of course I open the door just a little crack and did my best to sound forbidding and burly. Me! Shorty McShortsalot! "Yes?"

My neighbor demands to know (very politiely, I will add) "Did you take a picture of me?"

Apparently, he had seen me at my window, aiming my camera in his general direction. I explained (feeling very foolish) that I had been taking a picture of the moon. He explained that he was worried that he had been doing something that bothered me. (??????) Maybe he was engaged in nefarious, cat-molesting activities and got all paranoid? I don't know. Apparently I cannot be all artsy without feeling like a dumbass.

But hey! A view of the moon! That's something, right?