I have to preface this story with some quick background. My alarm clock is a Big Ben Moonbeam which wakes one with a flashing light (unless you ignore it and then it beeps). I could sleep through a Motorhead concert but shine a light in my eyes and I'm wide awake. Even with my back to the clock the flashing fills the room and wakes me. Conversely, I don't like a pitch dark room because (don't you judge me) I'm kind of afraid of the dark. I like a little light from outside, like streetlights, shining in my window. Let me repeat that for emphasis--a LITTLE light.
I went to bed late last night because I was working on a project and was cranky tired when I hit the pillow. The CNN signs at the four corners of the building used to be your standard white lights behind red plastic covers. Recently, though, the signs have changed. Now, they start as a solid red sign and a white light that burns with the power of a nuclear reaction starts at the top of the C and traces the letters, holds that position, and then goes back to red.
It's bright. Seriously bright. And even from two blocks away it lit up my whole room. I felt like Kramer in that Seinfeld episode with the Kenny Rogers restaurant. I turned away from the window but the flashing still reflected off my white walls. It was killing me. Okay, I can see you don't believe me. Here are some photos. This one is taken from my bedroom window at normal power. It's not clear, but you get the idea.
This one is zoomed a bit. 
The red hook looking things are lights around the top of the building presumably to warn aircraft which are not necessary as clearly those signs are visible from space. I tossed. I turned. I cursed the sick bastards who installed those signs (I get a view of the back sign, too, but the trees block most of it). Finally fed up, I reached for a velvet eye pillow that someone gave me once. I never use it because it's filled with lavender and the scent is overwhelming but what else could I do? [This is the part of the story where, if this were a movie, the audience would say "oh no...don't do it.] The soft velvety pillow which finally blocked out the evil flashing sign also blocked out the good flashing alarm clock. The beeping woke me eventually and I rushed off to work. Don't get me started on the freakin' helicopters. LA, you are officially on notice. I will not put up with this.
