12-2 Tu 9:57 AM
I wrote Shirelle a long letter yesterday and put it in her mailbox.  It was a good letter, but I know it won't do any good.  I recalled in the letter the great sex we had the first time we fucked.  I lifted her onto the wall of the balcony and she leaned out backwards over the city of Pasadena with the lights of Southern California stretching all the way to the sea and we fucked under the stars, cars passing by below us.  Now some little one-balled punk fucks her.  She always had an itchy pussy and hot fast emotions.
Fuck.  My horoscope today said to see people and relationships as they are and not how I wish to see them.  The crossword had the words deceit, scam, lie, and untruth and the singer Sade, whom she and I saw at the Greek a few years back.
12-2 9:42 AM W
I feel like walking away from my whole life.
12-3 9:08 AM Th
I drank beer last night like the old days I been reading about.  Man, am I conflicted.  I read what I did every day in 1993 and 1994; it's no wonder I'm doomed to fucked-uppedness. 
Katherine Beuerlein stopped by for a chat.  She's thinking of moving to San Francisco.  She had Thanksgiving at her cousin's house.  There was a pool table.  She's not very good, she says.  I told her there were a cast of characters in my family and they showed up for Thanksgiving.  I told her about Lieutenant Kepner discovering he's half Comanche.  She has a big smile with perfect teeth and soft brown eyes.  I still didn't ask her out.  She's on campus today.  Gabriella, her visually impaired student, is not here, though.  If I see her today, I'll ask her to lunch.
I talked to Shirelle for about twenty minutes last night and it didn't suck.

6:30 PM
12-8 M 9:10 AM
I haven't been able to write at all .  All I do is think about Shirelle.  It's never going to work, though, is it?  How long will it take to get it through my head?  I can't think of anything else?
9:ish PM
I'm in the Formosa Café.  God help me.  I don't know what to do.  Butthole's working across the street, but it's hard to know the truth anymore.  She's supposed to call me at home when she gets off.  I wouldn't be surprised if she comes in here with her new friends.  I wonder if I page her to join me for a drink will she only get irritated.  She'll reject me.  There's nothing left.  How do years of love evaporate overnight?  There's no way to get her back now.  I have to drink real slow.  Billy Bob Thornton is sitting in the booth behind me.  I got nothing to say to anybody less they wanna hear me moan.  I can't relax restraining myself to drink slow.  Fuck.  Why do I want to be lied to and walked on?  Fear of the unknown.  Pusssyheart.  She said she wanted someone less macho, more sensitive.  Fuck.  She's had me crying like a pussy for weeks.  I need a new watch.  Why do I have to be in love with a fucked-up bitch?  Because I'm fucked up, too?  Hopeless.  Actually, there's a lot to hope for.  Sick to my stomach.  Nervous.  Butterflies, rollercoaster screaming down.  Everyone you love will hurt you and walk out eventually.  Those are the rules for some of us.  When you see the pattern, you make it happen, because your lack of faith drives love away.  A girl with big eyes and full lips sits alone at the end of the bar.  She can't be alone can she?  Everything reversed-- complete role reversal-- but it turns out she is crueler than I am.  The girl speaks Spanish to the bartender.  Probably she's here for him.  Must be around nine thirty.  What do I do?  What do I do?  What do I do?  I bought a pack of Drum tobacco at the liquor store on Sunset down across the street from the Roxy when I was with Rawler on Saturday.  Waiting for his band to do their soundcheck, we walked down to get some beer.  I ate at Tam's today with Tim and Sandra at noon.  I haven't eaten since except for some Salvadoran caramels one of my adult students, Susana Coroletto, gave me.  She said she would clean my house for free, but I couldn't do that.  My beer is in me.  Should I get another.  Should I hit the phone?  What the fuck?  God help me.  God help me to know the right thing to do.

11-25 7:47 AM Tu
Maybe I need some counseling.  I fucking left my copy of Tropic of Cancer at the elementary school where I teach Adult Ed.  I don't know my own heart.  In my dream she aligned herself with three dark people, one flicked out a forked serpent's tongue.  I awoke agonized, wounded.  Hour later the feeling remains, like I swallowed broken glass.
What'll I do at lunch?  Go home and puff?  I could go for a good drunk.  Talk some good long drunk talk to some drunk strangers, preferable a woman.
11-26 W 11:45 AM
How can I get out of work tonight?  I'm kicking my own ass.  I said all that crazy shit.  I have to say to find out if it's true.  You can't read Henry Miller while Mary Poppins is on.
12-1 M 8:07 AM
I look into the cars driving by as I walk down the street.  I see from the faces that I am not alone in going to work with a broken heart.  Red maple leaves splotch the sidewalk like blood.  Maples in Los Angeles.  I wonder if sending letters will do any good.  Leave anonymous gifts on her doorstep.  Or do I just move on?  To Shirelle Buthole with undying love and deepest apologies--    God, what do I do?  Didn't I fuckup something good?  Or would she have walked all over me?  I suddenly don't care, but last night it tortured me again.  I  couldn't sleep.  I looked through old journals for Shirelle references.  They were about fucking or me complaining about her.  The best ones are about things we did together.  June 11, 1993, she and I went to see Jurassic Park.  I must send out traffic school forms today.  Bennington e-mailed me about a missing Microsoft program.  The bell just rang.  Recess is over.  Time to teach a math lesson.  I don't feel like a good teacher lately.  Fred gave me a piece of pizza.  I ate it at recess.  I skipped breakfast.  I thought I would fast, starve myself to express my abject depression.  At lunch I'll read Tropic of Cancer.  Then we have some science questions to write answers to.  Then we'll play some handball.  Then I'll read to them.  Then I'll walk home and do my desk work, bills, traffic school, etc.,  I'll take a nap or write a letter to Shirelle.  She really was a big part of my life, my closest friend.  I have to do that deskwork before I fall asleep.  I couldn't sleep at all last night.  My knuckles hurt from banging on Shirelle's door.  They called the sheriff on me.  They wouldn't let me in because some guy was in there with her.  She has lied to me again.  I sob quietly on the phone when she finally calls.  You can tell from the tone of her voice how hard her heart is toward me now.  Four years mean nothing.  In four weeks, four years are gone.  She wakes up one day and no longer loves me.  Not even a month ago she waited in my room in the dark, waiting to kill the bitch she thought I was out with.  The girl loved me so insanely and I didn't see how rare and great a thing that was.  I only coveted our practical differences.

Two or Three Mildly Interesting Things

11-24 M 8:35 AM
I read to Glorious a chapter from Tropic of Cancer.  Then we boned.  She asked if she could read this journal.  I said, "Uhhh..."  She said, "Then it is no."  I said, "Normally I don't care, but..."  She said, "That's okay."  "...it's been a tumultuous month," I continued.  Who knew what incriminating things I had written related to her?  I picked it up and leafed through it. I looked for something to read to her, but it's all pretty boring.  The sky is white today.  My students are writing in their journals.  It's almost recess.  I was thinking of going to Burger King, but there's not enough time.  I already had In N Out and Jack in the Box this weekend, not to mention the all-you-can-eat Shanghai Red's cholesterolfest.  What about calling Kate Beuerlein today?  What about my time card?  I have to e-mail Muralles.  Joshua's mom is coming after school for his report card.  I jerked beef to x-rated videos twice this morning.  I hit a roach, too.  I want to buy an easel.  I forgot how appalling sex with a condom is.  I woke up at 4:30 this morning and showered with Glorious.  She said she has to wear a bra because her nipples are too big.  I say there's no such thing.  Nipples can never be too big.  They are long, though.  The librarian is reading A Turkey for Thanksgiving to the class.  She's a little hoarse today.  When she leaves we'll finish our regrouping lesson.  I talked to Modchill at recess.  We're going to walk up to Burger King for lunch.  What else?  I'm barely halfway through this.  Luckily, the turkey got invited to a vegetarian Thanksgiving.  I dread going to work tonight.  Maybe we should go to that Julio's Grill instead or the New Mejei Japanese Take Out.  Damnesia just loudly farted.  You heard this phbbt and Dijonia went "Iiuu," and Damnesia said, "I did that."
 I had a beautiful girl who treated me like a king and I ran her off. 
[pencil sketch of long-necked Mexican woman with a monkey over her shoulder with a paw on her breast] Joshua and Damnesia are asleep.  Twenty-five minutes until I can go home.  Tomorrow there's no staff meeting.  Shirelle don't love me no more.  Marlin's crying cuz I kept him after school.  I'm burping Burger King.  Maybe they should call it Burper King.  I got to walk home.  Do my one page.  I added a few sentences to Jim yesterday.  Shall I leave that message for Beuerlein?

11-20 2:20 PM Th
I'm sitting stuffed like a turkey at Papa Rico's.  I had not enough cash for my lunch and there was a seven-dollar minimum for credit card transactions, so I ordered cannelloni and meatball sub.  Things are very complicated.  Shirelle and I have undergone a complete role reversal.  Suddenly after four years she says the relationship will go nowhere and I say how good it will be.  I realize what a mean-hearted, distrustful jackass I have been.  Shirelle, the dream girl, beautiful, sexy, hot, horny, loves to cook, will do all cleaning, devoted to her man, only needs to be shown a good time every few days or so.  I, the dullard, the plodder, the cynic, the hypercritic, the stick in the mud, the selfish, lazy, do-nothing asshole.  How did she put up with me so long?  How could I have been so blind?  She is energetic, vivacious, motivated.  She has star power.  I am negative, fearful and convinced of my own mediocrity.  Am I ready for wedlock and a child?  Is it ready for me?  Ugh ick ack urgh.  I saw Katherine Beuerlein today.  I am going to call her.  As if things weren't complicated enough.  Friday I said I would meet up with Galvan.  Shirelle is supposed to call that same night. 
11-23 Su 7:14 PM
I woke up and drank a cup of coffee that had been in the pot since yesterday.  I brought the paper in off the porch.  Glorious found an ad in the paper for an exhibition of Mexican masters at the county museum of art.  She sat on my lap and I told her we would go.  I shaved with no cream; just scraped the stubble off.  My skin is much tougher now.  I no longer get a rash on my neck.  We went to brunch in Marina Del Rey.  We drank champagne and read the newspaper and did the crossword puzzles.  I think Glorious is in love.  She doesn't see yet how sadly conceited I am.  We watched a documentary on Frida Kahlo at the museum.  It was fascinating and excruciating.  I felt close to Glorious.  I felt like we could save each other.  Then I saw her as Frida to my Diego, naturally.  She stroked my thigh while we watched.  Mazio Moreno was at the museum.  Glorious is downstairs talking to Carlin.

Then There's the Whole Texas Twister My Sister Has Set up

11-18 10:25 AM Tu
Hoy cow.  I haven't smoked since Saturday morning.  I could go for some right now, but I'm at school.  Today is minimum day for conferences, but none of the conferences I scheduled for today have confirmed.  Maybe I can sneak away early.  I took the LeBaron to the shop to have the top repaired just now.  I will be without a car tonight.  Maybe I'll take the night off from work.  I'll reschedule with Shirelle for tomorrow night.  I have to call Steve about USC/UCLA this weekend. 
"All around the world statues crumble for me."  I'll go to Tam's Garden for lunch.  Nice blue sky today.  Shirelle said she needed someone a little less macho. 
11-19 6:36 PM W
Had conferences today, no class.  Didn't realize that I hadn't finished this yesterday.  Gladys Aguila, my TA, and I used the day to set up my room.  We went to lunch at Tam's Garden, and she gave me a ride home.  She weighs about two hundred pounds.  Short black hair, smart face, best teacher's assistant I've ever had.  I called in a sub for night school.  I smoked part of a j and roamed the house playing guitar and doing push-ups.  I did a half hour on the treadmill.  I put off calling Glorious to come over until after I had talked to Shirelle.  I finally paged her around zero hour, the bomb was ticking down and I stopped the apocalypse with no time left.  I didn't have to lie to anyone either.  Shirelle said she wouldn't be getting off until eleven.  I called Glorious.  She wanted to come over.  Uh, why not?  This is getting weird and confusing.  Thing and I got videos; "Kolya" and "The Last Time I Committed Suicide".  She arrived around ten or so.  We ate popcorn and watched the first half of the movie or so and went to bed.  A little smooching and petting but not in any of the best places.  She left about five forty-five AM. 
I read the newspaper for the first time in weeks.  Went to Numero Uno with Modchill for lunch.  Slept on the couch a while.  Watched some "Kolya".  Glorious called.  She wants me to know how good I make her feel.  She wrote a letter commending my chivalry.  I paged Shirelle.  She's going to call when she gets off tonight around eleven.  I may go over there.  I have to take a $6 cab ride to work tonight. 
So I'm a dog.  I'm a fucker.  What'll I do?  What should I do?  What should I do about Shirelle?  Then there's the whole Texas twister my sister has set up.  I can only spend New Year's Eve with one of them.  If it's Shirelle, should I ask her to--gulp--marry me?  Would G keep me interested?  Augh, I am a fuckhead.  A great big giant fuckhead.  Help me Senor, please help me. 

M 11-17 6:25 PM
I left this thing locked up in my classroom all weekend.  I've been having trouble writing.  My heart consumes me.  Surely someone else has already said that.  Friday I took Glorious to see my alma mater, Los Altos, against crosstown rival, Wilson, with the Miramonte League title on the line.  My Conquerors lost.  After the game we had a pie and sandwich at Coco's, then I drove us in her Hyundai to Pasadena where we met up with Getoff and Peach at Jake's pool hall.  Glorious shot some good shots and we did well against Peach and Getoff.  We went back to my place and talked a while.  I went to bed about three and she slept on the couch.  She left about 8:30 the next morning. 
I drove out to Tannaz's place in Santa Monica, and he drove a girl named Johnna and me out to Burbank where we piled into the back of a guy named Mark's Jeep Grand Cherokee and headed into traffic to the Rose Bowl.  On the way we stopped for beer at Seven Eleven, and we tailgated a few hours ahead of the game.  It was a great game.  Skip Hicks broke the PAC 10 record for touchdowns in a season, and Cade McNown looked like next year's Heisman frontrunner.  Toledo coached a hell of a game with some fancy flea-flickers.  After the game I was pretty tired.  The others were all going to a party in the valley like good twenty-somethings; I went like the old dud that I am to my house and went to bed. 
I've already typed about my Shirelle-wracked dreams.  I got up at five and read five chapters of the Book of Job.  I called her.  She said she wanted to be single.  I whined that that isn't fair.  She yawned and said she couldn't talk about it.  I was feeling pretty tore up.  I got out of the house and went to meet my stepfather for golf in Brea to get my mind off her.  My golf game bit.  I expected her to fuck me up in each backswing and she did.  After golf, we dropped off my car to get new tires and watched football at Brian's Pub across the street on Placentia Avenue.  After a couple hours, my car was ready.  We went back to the house.  Mardis was working on a report with some fellow teeny-boppers.  Bernice is trying to set me up with a thirty-one-year-old teacher from Texas who is supposed to be perfect for me.  "But she's from Texas," I said.  Next Saturday, Bernie says.  I called Glorious.  She invited me over.  She fed me chicken and rice and veggies.  We watched tv and went to Baskin Robbins for a sundae and watched more tv.  I spent the night.  We rolled around a little and did some slobbering, but nothing much.  I told her I was feeling pretty unpredictable.  I got no boner.  I thought about Shirelle.  I was feeling distraught.  I hope God helps me know what to do.

11-13 6:15 PM Th
Glorious said if I was tired I could spend the night.

I said, "Uhm...that might be cool.  I felt like kind of a dummy in her room, though.  I didn't know if I was going to be sleeping on the couch or in her bed with her, and I was too chicken to ask.  She said she had a T-shirt for me, but didn't have anything for bottoms.  She intimated the T-shirt was long enough for me to sleep in my underwear, but I said, "I can just sleep in my jeans."  (!?)  We lay on the bed and she showed me some photographs of people she knew.  It was like the Ratner scene with Jennifer Jason Leigh in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High".  Finally, she said, "Which side of the bed do you want?"
The mystery was solved.  One of them, anyway.  She smiled warmly.  I could see in the dark because she had a turtle night-light by her bed.  She thanked me for dinner and the movie.  Our faces were very close.  I told her she was welcome.  We showed each other our scars.  I stroked her hair.  "Should I kiss you?" I asked.
"Here," she said and indicated with her finger her forehead.
"You're like Indiana Jones," I said.  "Here," I said, and pointed to my elbow like he did on Katanga's boat when they were taking the Ark away before they got waylaid by the Nazi sub.  So then I tried kissing her on the lips.
She said, "I don't think I'm ready for that..." Did she say, "..yet."?
I said, "I don't know if I am either."
That settled, I tried to sleep.  Her little hand held my left wrist, and I put my right hand on hers and fell asleep for a few minutes.  But then I got up for a drink of water and started feeling weird.  For one thing, I was going to wake up hacking phlegm.  Part of me was thinking if I wasn't going to bone, I may as well head home now while I was awake and there was no traffic, rather than in the morning when the opposite would be true, and I'd likely have a hard-on.  And what of Butt?  Was she a factor?  I sat up in the bed with my feet on the floor.  I put on my shoes.  I woke Glorious and said I couldn't sleep and was going home.  She asked if I was uncomfortable.  I went with the "leave now while I'm not tired rather than tomorrow when I will be" defense.  She held my hand a few seconds and said, "Okay."
She walked me to the door and gave me a hug, and I gave her a quick slobbery kiss on the neck.  Once I was in the car, I thought I should have stayed.  I got home about 1:30.  She had given me Cien Anos de Soledad and City of Quartz and a John Lee Hooker CD.  I didn't call her last night.

Thing and I went up to the Viper Room and waited on the sidewalk to see if a Stones rumour would pan out.  It didn't.  Today, it rained.  I'm at night school right now.  We went to the Japanese building at LACMA today.  I have to put new tires on the Chrysler.  Maybe on La Brea after lunch tomorrow.  Monday the roof.  Have to do the credit card switcheroo.  UCLA game Saturday.  Is fishing blown off?  I better teach my class now.  Hasta manana.

W 11-12 11:45 AM
I'm at the Lebanese flame chicken place on La Brea near Wilshire.  Tad walked up here with me. I've been busy in my class arranging conferences.  6:20 PM  I'm at night school.  I have a cough.  I've been too busy and tired to get any reading or writing done.  Yesterday I drove to Pasadena via Alvarado and the Glendale Freeway through a gorgeous day of variable, post-storm clouds.  I felt like a tourist.  Rawler and An's baby has the biggest head of hair I have ever seen on a newborn.  I held him a little while, but he started fussing and his mom took him into the bedroom.  I said, "I used to be really good with babies, but now we just make each other nervous."
From Pasadena, I drove in traffic down to Glorious in Costa Mesa.  I felt a little weird, but overall, it was very nice.  We went to Sam Woo's in one of those billion-dollar Orange County mall developments with movies, restaurants, bookstores, etc.  Dinner was good.  I had these honey-battered shrimp with walnuts.  She kept the conversation going.  I told her about the Tracy argument (She says white people are racist but doesn't recognize the racism in her own statement).  Then we drove down the 5 to the Irvine Spectrum and saw this movie "Gattaca" with Uma Thurman, Ethan Hawke, and Gore Vidal.  It was a mostly preposterous, but stylish and involving sci-fi mystery along the lines of Brave New World.  After the move, on the way home, Glorious said if I was tired I could spend the night. ! ?

TBC