Well, I *tried*...

Yet another strange dream.  In it, I was in 2006 and 1931 all at the same time—everyone was—and when I woke up, I was just about to solve the Starr Faithfull death.  They hadn’t found her yet (in 1931), and I was at a pay phone at the beach near her body (she hadn’t been found yet, but I knew where she was; I was just waiting until I had it all put together) talking with my maternal grandmother (alive, living in 1931’s New York, and the biggest gossip this side of, well, anywhere; we’re talking telephone, telegraph, tell-a-grandmother.  Screw Broadband; my mother’s mother was the original high-speed connection to information) and using Google on my laptop (with a wireless connection and access to a 1930’s version of Google as well as the 2006 version) to double-check some things.  I’d had to do some footwork to different places in the 1931 New York (and some calls to 2006 people, to get phone numbers and addresses from 1931) because not everyone I needed to speak with had a phone in 1931, but I was 99.9% done.  And then I was going to go get my hair marcelled, just to see how it turned out.  I’d had to give a twenty-dollar bill from 2006 to a 1931 beachgoer to have appropriate change for the phone, because it wouldn’t accept my coins from 2006, and I had to convince the beachgoer that it really was good money that they could use someday.  The banks exchanged currency (2006 to 1930’s and vice-versa), but I had been too busy to stop at the bank.  I had gotten into a huge fight with Starr’s mother, who was a moron (at least in my dream, though she never sounded to me like a very bright bulb in real life, either), but I’d gotten on okay with her step-father, who was just a run-of-the-mill dingbat, and he kept apologising for his wife and step-daughter (Starr) causing me such distress and inconvenience.  And I was practically done piecing together what had happened (then I was going to phone the police and tell them where to find the body as well as what had occurred) when I woke up.  

Damn it.

And, in parting, screw you, Mrs Faithfull!  No, screw YOU!  SCREW YOU!  

There.  I *have* had the last word.  Heh.  :-D

.