Can I get a witness?

A  little more than a year after I was in a car accident I’ve finally reached a settlement through my attorneys with the insurance company. Last week my attorneys faxed me a form that I sign to allow the attorneys to disburse the settlement check to pay my medical bills and themselves. I’ll get a little extra as well.

So on Wednesday I walked to the banks in my area to get the letter certified when I signed it. I finally found that BB&T had a teller who could help me for $2. When I handed her the paper, my money and my ID, she pushed it back at me under the thick glass teller window and said I needed two witnesses to sign it as well. “Seriously?” I asked. She nodded.

“Well then I guess I’ll have to scrounge some up right now,” I said and looked around me to see an empty bank floor. Ugh.

Just then a woman walked in and headed over to one of the standing-height wooden glass-top tables where people can sign the back of checks or do whatever else they need to do in a bank. I’ll be back in a second I said and walked over the to the woman and curled my left hand over my right hand in common begging style. “Excuse me,” I said. “I’m really sorry to bother you, but I need someone to be a witness for me when I sign something, it should only take a second. Would you mind helping me?” I said and tried to beg with my eyes as much as possible.

She agreed and followed me over just as a girl about my age walked in and entered the teller line.

z “Excuse me,” I said and repeated what I’d told the other woman…”so if you could help me I’d be very grateful. And you could even count it as your good deed for the day,” I said and smiled.

“What is it for?” she asked.

“I need to sign this release so my attorneys can pay my medical bills from an auto accident. I just settled with the insurance company and I need those bills paid off,” I said, hoping that I’d tugged on a heart string enough to convince her.

“Well I guess it would be OK,” she said and I thanked her.

I mailed the signed, witnessed and certified letter later that day. Thank God that there weren’t two people in the bank at that time who were paranoid and selfish.

 

When is it OK to jump in front of a bus?

When is it OK to run in front of a moving bus?

Well, unless you hear your actions being narrated in real-time, you have a mystery woman composing your life’s-script on an old fashioned black typewriter and a child really does step in front of a bus and you could save them, the answer is: NEVER.

Yesterday, I was taking my usual commuter bus ride home from work in DC when a man ran, I mean he really ran, alongside and nearly in front of the bus.

While it’s common place for people to try to  flag a bus down and run to catch the bus before it leaves a stop, I can’t recall a time when I saw someone run along side the bus and nearly in front of it to grab the driver’s attention.

There were gasps and yells of non-distinct half words as people saw him. Then the bus driver saw him, slammed on his breaks and looked at the man outside.

The man was dressed in DC business casual attire, he had no visible marks or distinctive characteristics to him (other than he ran along the bus) to indicate he was loopy. No, he just wasn’t going to let the bus leave without him.

“There has to be some sanctity of life,” the man sitting next to me said. Thinking he was referring to the bus driver who should have been more watchful, I nodded. My seatmate continued, “I mean you can’t just run around a bus like that,” he said.

I nodded as if I’d understood my seat-mate all along. “Once you pass 24, you’re too old to be taking stupid chances like that,” I said, ignoring the nagging memories of many a reckless act I’d made  in recent years. He nodded.

The bus driver harrumphed and motioned for the “bus runner” to cross to the other side of the road. He indicated that the bus would pick the runner up at the curb where we swung back around. The bus did just that.

To my surprise, when we picked him up a few seconds later, the “bus runner” didn’t look the least bit ashamed of his daredevil act. Either he has an inflated ego, a missing sense of self preservation, or he really, really had to pee.

On a side note, I wish people would stop grumbling on the metro when it takes an hour to make a 20 minutes trip? Haven’t you silly people listened to the news, read the WMATA alerts or noticed that it’s all messed up? I want to get home just as much as you do.  So, suck it up and stop blowing hot air on the back of my neck every time the conductor gets on the intercom to explain the delay.

 

When was the last time you…

When was the last time you stopped and observed anything? I mean really observed.

When was the last time you stopped your mind from thinking, rushing, heading toward the next task, and stopped to be present to what’s around you in all its glory and ugliness?

It’s easy to stop and smell flowers and their sweet perfume, or to notice when a sewage drain on your block has been left open. But have you ever paid attention to the underlying basic smell of DC?

I’ve been on a bit of a spiritual journey lately and I’ve come to realize that I had numbed myself from paying attention to the world I live in: the sounds, smells, taste, physical vibrations and texture, among other things. I have a lot to work on personally, but this is an area where I believe change will be easier for me.

I was surprised how different my world appeared the other day when I took my “non-smoking break” and walked around the block where I work. I’m easily distracted by people when I make eye contact, so I fixed my eyes at a point on the ground a short distance ahead of me and walked, making sure to listen, feel and smell what was around me and pay attention to my body at the same time.

As I stood outside my office, it was like someone had turned up the volume on all of my senses. Seriously, as I stood there and made myself present to the moment, the volume on the sound I heard moved from a five to an eight. I inhaled and realized the city didn’t smell like cars or body odor, but more like hot, moist yet dusty, neutral yet somewhat car exhaust-tainted air. Then I smelled the spicy meat of the hot dog vending machine before I turned the corner. I tried to be aware enough to smell the potted flowers along the sidewalk but I couldn’t discern them from the other smells.

I turned to paying attention to my body as I walked. I felt my feet sink into my black heels and the pressure of my toes pushing off the concrete with each step.

The ground shook a little when groups of people walked by and their voices were clear in my mind, but not their words. I heard the tones of the voices.  Some were louder and dominated the conversation with high-falutin-tootin voices saturated with inflated egos, some were rushed and tired, some were hurt and needy and some were plain and uninspired.

I heard the ding of a bell as a door opened at a cafe I was passing.  And I thought to myself, “I didn’t know that door had a bell,” as the rush of cold air escaping the cafe pushes against my exposed arms and legs.

My bones moved and creaked with each step.

I didn’t want to return to the office but I had to. So I went inside, listened to the sounds of the elevator and slunked back to my desk to turn my mind back on and get some work finished.

Lately, I’ve also left my screened-in windows and door open at night to listen to the crickets, birds and other sounds of nature. It’s very calming to sit on my couch and read a book, or journal, sip some tea or other liquid with the soft background sound of the outdoors.

I don’t know how I lived before without that extra connection to nature and I am scared that all too soon, winter will come and I will be forced to keep those doors and windows closed all day. Perhaps when that day comes, I will take my dog on longer walks in the early morning and at night, just to be outdoors a little longer.

 

Screen on the Green 2009

So last year I only made it out to one of the Screen on the Green movie events on the National Mall, and this year I’m determined to see at least two.

Last night my sister, Mu, myself and Bradley attended the showing of Dog Day Afternoon starring Al Pacino.

My sister arrived early and we laid out a blanket, which was smaller than I’d remembered, and snacked on unhealthy junk food and grapes until the movie started.

As it turns out, we didn’t need to do much to entertain ourselves.

First, a man proposed to his girlfriend. As he and his girlfriend approached the lawn, the man acted like he was scanning the crowd. All of a sudden, a bunch of people in red shirts  stood up and held up cards that spelled out the marriage proposal. I wasn’t sitting at a place where I could see any of the letters other than a question mark on the end.

The crowd around us burst into cheers and the girl threw her hands up to her mouth in surprise. She was grinning and the couple hugged. I saw her nod and say what looked like “yes,” and then he yelled “she said yes.” and the crowd burst into claps and cheers again. It was a wonderfully romantic moment.

Also, there are inevitably a few people who gets a little too drunk at these festivals, although alcoholic beverages are prohibited on the National Mall, and start doing silly things at the front of the area near the big screen.

This man clearly was among that list. Here he is dancing to “American Woman.”  Although you can’t see it very well on the photo, I especially enjoyed how he had a strong wife-beater tan. At first, I was appalled at his dancing around. But then I couldn’t look away, and finally, I had to laugh and enjoy the brazen silliness of the man.

 

Three weeks of cold showers

Because my neighbors have not paid the house’s gas bill, I will be going without hot water in my apartment until mid-July.  You may be surprised to learn that I’m not going to do anything about it.

Why?

I recently returned from a solitary retreat at a monastery (and I fully intend to eventually write about my experience there) with the goal of decreasing the stress and self-inflated drama in my life, in addition to many other goals.

As part of achieving that purpose, I decided to start saving up to move to another apartment to get away from the situation I’m in now.

Where I live now, I feel unsafe and like I can’t have a conversation in my house without my upstairs neighbors either interrupting my peace and quiet by getting into an explosive screaming fight, or the adult female of the house walking into the room above me and eavesdropping. She is like those busy-body women in movies who watch everyone coming and going, and is always very paranoid that you’re talking about her.  (Well, at least this time, she’s right. lol.)

If you think I’m exaggerating, ask any of my friends who spent time with her back when I still spoke with her.

My neighbors and I used to talk, in fact we used to be friends, but some things happened earlier this year that made it clear that those people were toxic and I just needed to cut them from my life. Luckily, they feel the same about me so there’s little chance of a reconciliation.

I searched my heart at the monastery and I am still uncertain whether I still hold anger against them or whether I just refuse to soften my heart for fear that I will end up tangled up with the neighbors again.

Anyway, last week I went on a work trip to South Carolina only to return and realize I couldn’t take a hot bath to sooth my aching muscles.

The problem is that when I signed my lease, I was led to believe that my utilities were covered in the rent, in that part of the rent money was put toward utilities. Later, I learned it wasn’t.

It isn’t fair that they have to pay all of my utilities and it isn’t fair to me either because I feel guilty every time I turn on a light, take a bath or cook. The landlord shouldn’t have been allowed to put us in this situation and if I’d known the true set-up, I’d have opted to live somewhere else or pay a share in the utilities.

But live alone and rent the basement (1 bedroom, on living room, one small bathroom and a kitchen) while there are three of them, plus more when they have weekend custody of their four other children, and they use the rest of the two-story house. Moreover, the only gas I use is when I use hot water.

Anyway, for one reason or another, there was has been no hot water in about a week and last night I received a multi-part text from the neighbors saying they won’t be able to pay the gas bill until the 13th of July. UG!

I could go to the landlord and complain. I could ask him to get the gas turned back on. But the truth is the neighbors still wouldn’t have the money to pay the bill (if they are being truthful) until then and I would be drawn back in the drama of that family.

I spent a summer in Delaware without hot water, because I couldn’t afford to buy a $300 tank of natural gas, and so I know how to survive without.

But the thing is, I wish my neighbors hadn’t put me in this situation, for I fear they will let this happen every couple of months if I don’t do anything. But if I do something, I will be forced to hear them screaming upstairs even more and likely will once again have my neighbor screaming profanities out her upstairs window at me in the middle of the night.

No thanks.

For now I’ll take the cold showers and continue saving up to get out of the place.