Saturday in the City

Well, I'm in the city today. Going to hang out with some friends and then go to "Don't Tell Mama"'s tonight.

Until next time, here's some more things on my mind:

When you pull onto a major high way, and you have an acceleration lane, FREAKING ACCELERATE! That's what it's there for. Get up to speed or take the bus.

That is all.


So, in the wee hours of the morning (3:30am), I had a nightmare so bad that it scared me awake. I mean when I woke up, I had goosebumps up and down my arms.

This dream seemed exceptionally real in touch, sight and sound and was made even more so by:

  • There was a pre-defined history.
  • There was common knowledge between people in the dream that only existed in the dream.
  • The setting was familiar in that I had actually been living there for months.

    So the dream goes like this:

    I was living in a room in the attic of this old house that had been converted into a museam. Some famous lady lived there and had actually resided in the room that I was staying in. For an exibit downstairs on the main floor, I was choosing stories of people who had stayed in the room and had encounters with her ghost. At the beginning of what I can remember of the dream, the person who owned the museam was up in the room with me and made a joke about how she used to rake in the money when she was alive and is still doing it even though shes dead. I can't recall what she did to make money in life but apparently, it made some cash. The owner left and I had a cardboard filing box with files in it of stories that had been compiled. Now, in the dream, I never actually read any of them, but looking over them, the tabs, lettering and coloring of the files was all familiar like I had gone over them in great detail. I even was noting my personal favorites as I glanced over their folder.

    I started to drag the box to the doorway of the room. The door was at the top of the stairs that leads to the attic. As I got to the stairs, while thinking about all the months I had lived in the room and nothing had happened to me, something came up from behind and suddenly I started experiencing the stories first hand as the people that had been there.

    Suddenly I was this lady who was staying in the room, some decades earlier. Now to preface this part, it was also common knowledge in the dream, that a banjo and harp player (mouth harp), stayed in the same room also many decades before that.

    So, I'm this lady and suddenly the lights go off and I'm being spun around this room, the whole while I'm hearing the harp player say "They dug her up" over and over. While every other time or so, the banjo player would say "It was a thumb."

    So after being spun wildly around the room in the dark, the light comes on, I'm standing there in the middle of the room and I look down and my left arm is sliced side to side from my elbow down to my wrist. As I start to freak out, I notice my right thumb nail, (which was long as I was living this womans experience), was bloody. Then it made sense.

    "They cut her up"

    "It was a thumb."

    It had been done with my own right thumb nail which was long and sharp.

    That's when I woke up, goosebumped and freaked out.

    What I personally find amazing, is that my mind fabricated all this exceptionally fine detail and presented it in a very organized and understandable fashion. It truly makes me wonder what kind of demons lay in hiding in the untouched portions of the human psyche and what this particular manifestation really means.

    Washington Mutual

    Ok, up until now Washington Mutual has been great. The online banking always works. The auto bill pays happen on time. You name it, it's been ok.

    Now, they didn't just screw up in a small way, they screwed up in a large way.

    Tuesday morning I deposited the rent money from my room mates into the ATM at my branch.

    The next evening I check my account online and they had deducted the amount I deposited stating there was a key in error. KEY IN ERROR? WTF is that?!? So I call the 24 hour line and they treated me like I was a terrible bother because I was now missing cash I deposited into my account. And it's not like it was a check, it was cash, so even with a receipt, it just says that I keyed in a certain amount nothing more. So potentially, they could screw me out of the deposit. So after explaining this to the rep, who then proceded to talk to me like she didn't care, I gave up and figured speaking to someone local would help.

    So this morning I called the local branch and got a young person on the phone who told me they would have to investigate. After explaining that I had no problem with coming to the branch and thermally melting down in their lobby, he hopped to it and started finding out what happened.

    I finally got a call back saying that it was an error and that I would be credited the funds. I asked what kind of error and he said "it's to technical to explain to you". Again, WTF? I said try me and he simple said it was human error. I politely asked that no more dee-dee-dee's be allowed to collect funds from the ATM and hung up.

    SO I finally got the money credited back to my account.

    And the lesson learned here...human error is too technically difficult to explain.


    I hate doing laundry. In fact, I've been putting it off all day. Why labor on Labor Day, right? But no really, laundry. 28 minutes for the washer, 45 minutes to an hour for the dryer. And while this is all going on, the lovely company of those who might be doing laundry as well. Most of them not speaking in english and the one who is, is a crazy old dude who wanders from place to place in Eastchester. And he's not talking to anyone but voices in his head.

    Laundry days only saving grace is East Bambo. God bless East Bambo. The best chinese food ever. EVER!

    Ok, so now I'm leaving to do laundry.

    Turn Signals

    Every car has turn signals. One on the left, one on the right. You're supposed to use them to signal things. Like turning, changing lanes, etc...

    Operating a turn signal is a simple process. The lever on the left hand side of the steering wheel turns them on or off. Up for the right one, down for the left one.

    What I don't understand is all the butt monkeys who can't seem to operate this simple device. This mechanism, which at least when I was in drivers education, was required by law. BY LAW.

    Using a turn signal is not only for courtesy, but it'll also help keep people from running into you or getting pissed off with you, getting out of their vehicles and beating the ever loving crap out of you.

    For you people in your BMW's, Mercedes or Jaguars, you're not so rich that you don't have to signal. And for you posers riding around in your over done 90 something Honda Civics, you're not so cool that you don't have to signal. Even old people remember to signal for Gods sake.

    So unless you're a dee-dee-dee, freaking use the turn signal or I'm going to introduce you to Mr. Baseball Bat.