A dream of sleeping somewhere else.

The other night I dreamt -

I was coming home from the bar near my house and I was very tired, so I stopped into the church that's a block up from my house, and I curled up on the linoleum of the mezzanine up in the big interior stairwell right inside the door.

While I was sleeping there, I'd occasionally awaken, sometimes thinking that they might think poorly of me if they found me, and at other times thinking that I might get bedbugs from homeless people who slept in a different part of the church, and wondering if I should wash everything like my sweatshirt when I got home, in case there were bedbugs clinging to the seams.

And then I woke up.

. . .

Presentation vocabulary.

Teaching at the art school ruined me, and since them I've tended to talk like I normally do in a classroom, including profanity.

The other day when I was teaching freshman writing, I was summarizing a student thesis and was like, "Okay, the main idea here is that bias fucked everything up," and then a minute later I was like, "...but that idea is actually ancillary."

At that, I instantly heard myself, and so I turned to the students and put on a persona as if I was them and I was like, "[my full name], why do you use a word like 'fuck' one minute and then 'ancillary' the next?", and then I replied to myself in a different mugging persona, "Because that's just how I am, that's why," then I laughed at myself, because I thought I was funny.

I wonder what they think of that stuff.  I know at least some students love it.

A dream of work:

The other week I dreamt -

I'm waking up in bed, and I look out in my studio apartment, and there's a corner full of snowshovels in this like three-by-three corner nook in the corner of the house where the carpetting runs out and the cheap floorboards beneath show through, and I think to myself that I should run up to the hardware store and get some salt, and then clear the walks and the different stairs outside and then salt them, and I wonder if my landlord would mind my salt maybe eventually affecting plants on the front lawns, if the runoff from the salted areas got onto them.

Then, I glance up, and in the small open staircase descending to my front door area, I notice the garage door-like door to out front is half open, letting some of the cold in and all of the heat out, only I can't feel it too much.

Then, I wake up.

. . .

(My apartment looks nothing like this layout, and it's actually a one bedroom, but the night before this dream I noticed some ice on the side sidewalk that goes to the back door that I go in and out of, as I walked it coming home that night.)

Fun morning conversation:

A(n older middle-aged) (Asian) woman in a bright red hat, as she turns to me after we run across the street waving to the bus as it's pulling away and pulls away and leaves us and delays us on our morning commute:

"What an asshole."

(She said that with an accent, too.)

A musical regret of mine:

I never heard Frankie Knuckles when he was around DJing in the city I live in.

He's known as the "Godfather of House," and I knew that from a(n Irish) friend who follows house music and had told me of its history at some point, and Moby talks about him in his memoir, but I never followed club listings and so I never got out to see him at his random appearances before he died like this past year.

Now, I feel bad about that.

A scam used by a lot of local Chinese people?:

Groups of them seem to memorize the same phone number to enter for the local chain pharmacy's discount account, since when I'm in line behind them and so I can see the checkout screen, the name that pops up isn't associated with a picture, I can see, and it has a shit-ton number of points associated with it, way too many for just one person or even one nuclear family.

It makes sense - it's not like the clerks care, and either they don't know enough Chinese to know whether it's a male or female name, or they're Chinese heritage and they do know, but are they really going to bust someone?

I've heard that groups of local (Chinese) people have been making a killing on the real estate market, since they pool resources and wait till prices are low and then pay in cash...

This must be the same group approach, but with pharmacy discounts.

I've now caused 2 people to read Moby's memoir "Porcelain":

1) At the one labor activism class, this one (black) (middle-aged) guy who I was chit-chatting with before class began, and when he asked me how I was, I said great because I couldn't put this book down, then he asked me what book, and when I said "Moby's Porcelain," he was like, "Let me write that down," and he did.

(He told me later that he loves memoirs and reads them a lot, though mostly he reads memoirs of innovators and philanthropists.)

2) At a (new) (Greek neighborhood) bar after the class, the (young) (Greek) (female) bartender, who saw me pull out a book and so asked me what book I was reading, and who then told me that Moby's song "Porcelain" is the classic late night beach bar song across all of the Mediterranean up through this very day, since it has that late summer night chill mellow vibe to it, and she pulled out her iPhone and played it for me right there so I could listen to it.

(She also seemed very into music, and had me write down for her the name of this one local blues guitarist who I heard last year, so she could look into going to see him.)