1-28-99  Th 10:58 AM
Hersch, the Assistant Principal, came in and said he was going to evaluate one of my lessons next week.  My kids are stupid. Their brains are wasted by video games and parental neglect.  I made steak and eggs for breakfast, so I don't need lunch.    I'll just go to Lee's for a cup of coffee.  I was running late this morning, so I rode my bike to school.  The kids went insane. You'd have thought they had never seen a grown man on a bike before.  It was like V-J Day.  At least twenty kids came up to me to tell me they had seem me riding my bike to school.  I have to make that call for Juma today.  We got our W-2s.  I'll ask Mr. Ross to do my taxes for me this year.  And now it's time for a "what else?"  Payday is still a week and a day away.  Watched that movie "Little Voice."  Dark comedy, mildly amusing, mean-spirited.  Whatever.  I picked up a newspaper at the Royal Food Mart.  I walked over there with Kendoll and Florelle.  I got a cup of coffee, too.  I feel fake because my feelings are unreliable.  Feelings is a fucked up word. I feel like a liar.  That's just the way it is.  I hear Jimmy Page.  5:02  Show me the way. I beg.      Do I?  Not really. I have to get on my bike and hope my luck holds up on Pico and Arlington.  Toras McKey passed the bar in New York and California.  I've been to bars in those places.  Whatever.      It has been hard to do these pages the last couple days.  There are men on a roof on the other side of Hudson you can see from the kitchen window.  5:50 PM McKey wasn't there.  I jst went to the candy machine and blew it to the munchies.  I need to tuck my shirt in still. Still haven't looked at Volcano today.  Did the crossword.  Ugh.  Why did I get an oatmeal cookie, peanuts, and M&Ms?  I'm struggling to teach tonight.  Demonic little mistakes and misrepresentations. Must be that weed I smoked.  Stupid.  Made me stupid and furious.  Craving a drink. The Superintendent and some press will be at Wilhsire Hill tomorrow to kick off the Read Across America program that begins on every year on Dr. Seuss's birthday.  Neri and Timoteo left. They are a couple of malcontents.  I wonder if someone who has little to do with me has me feeling this way.

1-27-99 9:11 AM W
More of the same.  Nothing has changed since yesterday but my clothes and the date.  Sheryl is worried she might have diabetes. She came up to the house last night, and I printed up a bunch of information for her.  I don't know how I'll ever get through three pages today. This journal is just going to turn into me writing about not having anything to write about. That, and the ever-intriguing "What should I eat today?" That's the extent of my life.  There is, of course, the elephant in my living room: Specifically, the thing that I can barely say:  Like the Fonz "M m m ma mar marr marri marria marriag"--can't even think of it.  Ugh. It crimps the flow of blood to my penis. Whatever.  Ugh. Got an urge to walk up to Jack in the Box and have a grilled sourdough--No time now, though; recess is half over. Antwon has to write standards again today. What else?  I'm hungry. How many times have I written that?  Under the Volcano is a second-rate Sun Also Rises.  I'm sitting out on the lunch benches with first-grader Lauren. She's on Ritalin, I know.  Some pigeons flew by, and we could feel the breeze of their flapping wings.  "Did you feel that?" I asked.  She nodded.  "I don't really like birds that much," she said. "Why not?" I asked.  "Cuz one time when I was at camp, one pooped on me right on my face and hair."  She made splatter movements with her fingers to show me where the poop landed.  Then, like the pigeons, she flew away. ~~~~~I feel sick to my stomach.  Made a diet-busting visit to Jack in the Box.  Dawn's reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory again.  What else?  I have to put up the homework.

1-26-99 Tu 9:35 AM
Class.  The kids are trying to write an informative paragraph.  Maybe I'll have a little Taco Hell for recess.  There's a staff meeting after school today.  It's raining still.  We had a nice little thunderclap during reading that got the kids murmuring like schizophrenics.  Last night, Shirelle and I went with Tim to the Los Angeles Opera Company's 1999-2000 Season Preview.  We had to sit through two supercilious orations on the economic and cultural health of opera in LA, both by Brits; their accents I suppose, lending an air of authenticity to class-starved Angelenos.  I wanted to belch or something to burst the bubble of hot air in that room.  Whatever.  I've got to go over to Koonan's and Xerox some tests.  I better get a cup of coffee at lunch.  My bike's still at Shirelle's.  I'm going to have to walk to Pio Pico tonight.  I wonder how McKey's chess tournament went.  Ugh.  What else?  I woke up with a big stiffie this morning.  I showered and dressed, typed for fifteen minutes.  Drank a mug of cold coffee.  Walked in the wet to school.  Haven't seen a newspaper nor read any Under the Volcano yet today. I wrote a third person page about home yesterday, but I didn't get to Jim.  Still haven't mailed that fucking ticket that my asshole brother got.  Did I mention that that fucker took my belt?  What else?  Lunch is over now.  Senoravilla doesn't talk to me anymore.  I no care.  What fucking bothers me is that it's so hard to come up with something worthwhile to express.  The other thing that bugs is that I have to go to work tonight.  Florelle gave me a tangerine.  What else?  Our [Taco Bell logo in blue ink] our game is at eight o'clock on Sunday.  I feel like a [donkey head in blue] jackass all the time.  My old confidence is shot again.  What else?  What else?  Now the kids are going home.  We played dodgeball for PE.  We have a staff meeting right now.  We're studying the Cheyenne Indians. It stopped raining, but it's still pretty chilly out.  It's going to be a cold walk to Pio Pico, unless I bum a ride off Shirelle.  I should do that and work with my weights today.  I'll watch half of "Little Voice" when I get home.  Michael Caine won a Golden Globe for his role in it.  What else?

1-25-99 8:43 AM M
It's dreary and drizzly at school today. The kids are writing in their journals. The assembly got called off because of the rain, so we won't present the Word of the Week until next week. There's a Leadership Council meeting after school today that Principal Lunchstein wants me to attend. I need to talk to Modchill right after school and find out about this opera thing, so I can call in for a sub as soon as possible, if needed. I haven't eaten today.  I walked to school between raindrops.  Didn't use my umbrella and didn't get wet.  I don't know what else to write. I typed for fifteen minutes this morning.  I don't know what I can add to that. I still haven't eaten today.  Yesterday I had a Double Quarter Pounder and six chicken nuggets and nothing else.  What else?  When I get home, I'll do some typing about Jim's teeth and his retainer.  I'm going to have to get a croissant at lunch.  They have only 20g of carbohydrates.  Tim said his folks might take us out to dinner before the opera tonight. What else?  How can there be so little to say?  My new TA is useless.  Whatever.  What else?  Daniel says that Rick had to have surgery on his stomach.  What else?  Ten minutes to recess.  Anne was pulling into the driveway as I walked up. She smiled and waved.  I thought it might be special for me but, then Shawn pulled in and smiled and waved, and then Scully did the same.  I realized that's just what people do.  It doesn't mean more than that. I trudged across the wet grass navigating around puddles, to the cafeteria. "Hi, Mr. Zurn." "Hi, Mr. Zurn."  "Hi, Mr. Zurn."  "Hi. Hello.  Hi."  Jeez Louise.  What else?  Myshea read from her journal that she hated sharing with her little sister.  I need a massage. I'm still bummed about sucking at baseball yesterday.  These kids are retarded.  It's after lunch now.  That's how long this has taken. I read some more Volcano.  It sucks.  I took a nap at lunch.  Why am I so tired all the time?  Salvador is reading a book called Iktomi and the Buffalo Skull.  Naiah is reading Irene and the Big Fine Nickel.  What else?  Why is this so impossible today?  There are cracks of blue in the clouds now. Antwon is reading The Gettysburg Address.  Coleco is reading a book called Somebody's New Pajamas.  How am I going to call in sick to work tonight and still go to the leadership meeting? Oh, for crying out loud!  What else?  PBBBBBT!

1-24-99 10:01 PM Su
I just rode my bike up here to Shirelle's.  It was raining a little.  My ears are frozen and the cold air gave me a headache. I stunk up the field at my baseball game.  Struck out three times, grounded out, made some shitty errors. Definite goat of the game, but we won. It was a nail-biter.  At one point, we were down ten to two, but we came back and won fourteen to thirteen, scoring the winning run with two out in the ninth on Mariachi's bases-loaded single.  When we got home, I went to the store and bought a newspaper--which I haven't read yet--and four gallons of water. Then I went to the liquor store and bought a six pack and a couple of nudie books.  Then I drove through McDonald's.  I beat off, ate my burger, and went to sleep. I woke up a couple hours later.  Wrote a little. Added some to Jim-probably lame.  And that's it. Here I am.  Shirellle's watching the Golden Globes.  Yadda yadda yadda. What else?  We're supposed to go to some opera at the Dorothy Chandler tomorrow night.  I'll have to take another sick day at work. I still have to write the Bahamas letter. What else?  I keep thinking of how bad my game sucked today. Ugh. What else? "The Practice" just won for best TV drama. These shows always trip me out. I'm not that creative?  Not that smart?  Am I cursed?  Do I have a jinx? How can I suck at EVERYTHING?  I've got to read some Volcano still.  I typed fifteen minutes this morning. I read the first seven chapters of the Book of Amos. Destruction heaped upon the Jews. Ugh. Ack. Ick. Shit.  Fuck.  Why don't I think of anything?  I want to see "Shakespeare in Love."  I should have [fluid-line black ink impression of a ball past a batter heading to the glove of a catcher in front of an umpire]  I should have watched "Little Voice."  Another lost weekend goes down the pipes. 

1-21-99 Th 12:45 PM
I'm at scruel.  We're going to leave for music in a few minutes.  Woop-te-doo.  I had another diet-busting ham and cheese croissant and strawberry milk. I bought a jelly donut, but I haven't eaten it. I got a new teacher's assistant today.  Just one more person to whom I'll have to explain what to do to.  His name is Tony.  I asked if he had ever worked in a classroom before.  He said he taught at a Bible school.  So here we are now down in the auditorium.  Mr. Coane, the music teacher, is teaching "Ode to Joy" with Beethoven's Ninth.  I'm not breathing too good today, and I left my inhaler at home.  A girl came in and said to me, "You're a nice man."  I don't know where she's getting her information, but Ms. Boraz, who accompanied the girl, assured me that the girl didn't get that idea from her.
Mr. Coane is teaching the major scale now.  Rodney asked me when we were going to play basketball again. Elmer said let's play some pool tomorrow. Shirelle wants to go to dinner tomorrow night. What else?
1-22-99 F 11:32 AM
I didn't realize I didn't finish this yesterday.  Oh, well.  I made bacon and eggs for breakfast this morning.  Maybe I'll go to happy hour after school today. Or maybe I'll just go home and drink and smoke and write.  Tomorrow's that chess tournament, but I'm going to end up having to help Shirelle with her car.  Ugh, all I want to do is get out of here and start drinking.  Fuck it all.  Why do I feel so jagged.  There were a bunch of people in the teacher's lounge. Villasenor, Florelle, Leslie.  I didn't have anything to say to anyone.  "What's going on, j?" said Florelle.  "That's a tough one," I said.  I should have said, "I'm resigned to my fate and therefore numb."  Cleanliness is Godliness, and God is empty, just like me.  Salvador and Shawn are reading the LA Times.  "This room is depressing," someone said.  "Is that what it is?" I wanted to know, but didn't ask, because I don't think they were talking about the room but about me.  The kids want to know how I get scabs on my arms.  "Playing baseball," I tell them.  We have to present the Word of the Week on Monday which is "conscience."  What else?  Who cares?  I should have got a beer at lunch instead of sitting in that lounge.  Florelle and I drew self-portraits.  Whatever.  What else? Drink Drink Drink Fuck Fuck Fuck.  What else matters?  Fuck Fuck Fuck doesn't even matter anymore.  Shirelle's bummed because I haven't felt like boning her for three weeks.  The reason why I haven't wanted to has since evaporated, like everything, but the behavior remains.       Football or basketball for PE today? Maybe Shawn will let me do his crossword puzzle.  I feel like I'm about to go berserk with cursing and violence.  She hates you yeah yeah yeah.  She hates you yeah yeah yeah.  She hates you yeah yeah yeah yeah.  [pencil line drawing of a third baseman diving for a baseball]

1-20-99 W 8:11 AM
I have to remember to call up Idaho when I get home today,  a courtesy call inquiring after Jan's surgery.  I feel like getting a ham and cheese croissant, an apple fritter, an apple juice, and a coffee over at Lee's.  I typed fifteen this morning. I did everything but work on Jim last night.  Still slogging through Under the Volcano.  I'm not quite clear on who this Hugh guy is.  Is it Geoffrey's brother?  Is he having an affair with Yvonne?  As sounds through the hourglass...Antwon read from his dream journal that there was a two-headed monster in the bathroom, but the monster didn't want to eat him, it just wanted to use the bathroom.  Then he said there was a vampire in the kitchen, but he didn't want to suck blood, he wanted to make barbecued ribs.  I saw two yellow spots on Antwon's shirt.  "Did you have fried eggs for breakfast this morning, Antwon?" I asked.  "How did you know that?" he asked.  "I'm psycho," I said.  "I have ESPN."  It's recess. Should I go to Lee's.  No, I shouldn't.  What if I do?  As I was telling Zannat, there's the right thing, and there's the right thing for me, and they're not always the same thing. He said that was a "poignant" comment. Whatever. 12:20 PM The kids are supposed to be doing silent reading, but they're all just f--king around.  We're having a rainy-day schedule because of a mist in the air.  I've got to bring my totem photos to school. What else?  The kids are watching "Antz" since it's too wet to go out for PE.  Salvador brought it.  ~~~~
Life don't measure up to what you hope. ~~~~ Naw. ~~~ Whatever.  I could go for a puff and a drink.  Ugh.  What else?  Maybe I should write a page of what elses. I've probably already done that in like journal number six or something. I could go for a burger.  I wish I could think of something to draw.  Que mas? Podre ir a la escuela de noche en my bicicleta?  Malisimo que no tengo bastante dinero para divertirme un poco. The kids trip when they hear the ants in this movie say, "Damn." Quiero tomar cervezas. Quiero fumar la mota.  Quiero acostar en me casa con unas muchachas y chingamos.  Quiero abs.  Pinche cabron chingaso culo puta verga. "Who the heck are you?"  "He's Z." Quien cuida?  Que se importa?