Finger-lickin' Good

pt. 8th '98 4:40 PM

I'm writing from the house again.  Same place as yesterday.  School went well.  The new class seems nice enough.   There are a few squirrels, but overall, they seem happy and well-adjusted.  Only fifteen kids showed up, though.
9:12 PM
It's hard to think.  There's so much I should be doing.  It's hard to think, though.  McGwire did it. 
W Sept 9 10:10 AM
Recess.  The bell's going to ring any minute, and then I'll have to collect my class.  It's a gray, humid day.  I've just come from dropping off my five rolls of east coast film at the developers up the street at Sycamore and Wilshire.  The pretty new teacher, Laura, smiled and waved when she saw me today.  Shirelle wasn't feeling too well.  She seemed to have a fever overnight and was coughing and sneezing this morning.  I'm bummed because she has lines on the TV show "Getting Personal" to say at taping tonight.  I gave her that cold, too, slobbering all over her when I got back because I hadn't seen her for eighteen days.  The bell rang.
12:40 PM
Ugh.  I'm tired.  I ate at Taco Bell like a dickhead.  Two little fat ones and Big Chicken Burrito Supreme.  So unnecessary.  Then I walked up to the developer.  I handed him my ticket.  "Oh, Mr. Zurn," he said excitedly.  I thought maybe he liked my pictures, but he handed me a mangled negative of the swan boats reflected in a willow-framed pond in Boston Common.  F*ck!  That was one of my favorites.  Who knows how screwed up that roll is now?  I could puke.  They didn't have any of the pictures ready.  Why do these things happen?  It's never some crappy roll from around town I could easily re-take.  It's the Oregon coast or cross-country to Maine or some other multi-thousand-dollar trip that pictures get screwed up on.  I wondered if I could sue this negative-mangling developer, but knew that, of course, they have some caveat on the receipt absolving them of all accountability for damaging anyone's vacation photos.  UGH!  ARGH!  SHIT!  DAMN!  I need a nap.  I never wrote yesterday other than my fifteen minutes.  I have to call the doctor when I get home today after I stop by the developer to see how many of my photographs survived THE MANGLER.  I have to tape "Jeopardy!" tonight.

Sep. 10, '98 Th 11:45 AM
Tam's Garden.  I'm unable to skip lunch again.  I need to get printer paper and ink cartridges from the office.  Need to get my desk straightened out as well as the closets and walls in my classroom.  Here's my Chinese soup.  I have to watch a video about how to instruct Spanish-speaking students now that bilingual education has been outlawed.  I have to work tonight, duh.  Mr. Zanax was telling me about free vodka drinks from 9-11 at Opium Den tonight.  I should probably save my ass for tomorrow.  My east coast pictures suck.
7:30 PM
Agh!  I forgot to tape "Jeopardy!"  Sh!t!  Shirelle was fucking pestering me about the floor, and I got all rattled and forgot.  Sh!t! 
I'm going to try to just have a plum for supper tonight, but when I wrote "fucking" it made me think of " fuckin' " which made me think of " finger lickin' " and now I want Colonel Sander's Kentucky Fried Chicken.  I better not though.  The plan tonight is to write.  Man, when I was travelling those two weeks I had no weed and didn't miss it.  But now that I'm home, when I sit at my desk to write, I wish I had some.  I want to do that rollerblade scene tonight.  I don't know what it shows except, I guess, that Jim's not as impotent as he seems or thinks he is.  Reading Pulitzer-Prize-winning writer Richard Ford's The Sportswriter and the pointless scene at the airport where Frank meets his doctor, I think the rollerblader is a better scene; though in fairness to the Pulitzer, Ford won the prize for Independence Day not The Sportswriter. 
What else?  I'm bummed I forgot to tape "Jeopardy."  I can play NTN on the computer, though.  I was playing a game this afternoon, but Mr. Martinez showed up to check the garbage disposal, and I didn't finish the game.  A horrible little idea came creeping back today:  I should find a better partner.  I guess I have to bury that.  S. wants to go to happy hour with me tomorrow if I go.  I was thinking about the importance of A Separate Peace.  Maybe you need a circle of friends away from your loved ones.  Maybe I shouldn't allow her there?  I don't know.  My night school students are practicing telling time and giving locations.  What else?  No night school tomorrow.  Maybe I'll go to the museum and try to see the Picasso show.  Saturday is Hunter's party.  I have to check that transmission leak.