4-19-99 M 12:55 PM
Ugh.  Why do God and society expect you to be monogamous and then fill you with love and lust for so many?  It's hot today.  My bed is made.  Why are honest, natural inclinations deemed immoral?  Is it to preserve continuity, preserve honor?  What the heck is honor, anyway?  I wish I could divide, like a fluke, and pursue all my loves.  Each clone would envy the other, knowing me.  Whatever.  I'm at school.  It's silent reading.  I wanted to work on Jim right now, but I've lost the pages I wanted to work on.  Guess it'll have to wait.  I fell behind yesterday, and it has carried over to this morning.  Haven't done my fifteen minutes yet.  I finished the 1993 volume of the The Best American Short Stories.  It was like driving through Hancock Park looking at all the beautiful homes wondering what's wrong with me, what am I doing wrong?  ~~~~~Guess I'll have that party this weekend (Isn't that the answer?)  I'll have to get on the horn and also make a flier.  Maybe I should see if Florelle or Kendoll will give me a ride to the credit union so I can deposit my "Jeopardy!" check.  I'm not sure how to take the bus up there, though I have an idea.  What else?  Back to work tonight.  Ugh.  What'll I read next?  We've got to start our social studies.  What else?  2:26 PM  We played softball for PE.  Now what?  Should I track someone down to take me to the bank?

4-18-99 9:26 PM Su
I'm at Bob's.  I came mostly to write here instead of in the house.  I guess I'll get some apple pie and ice cream.  Shirelle wanted a root beer float, but they don't have root beer here.  I guess I'll bring her a shake.  A quartet of black gents cackle around the corner of the counter where I'm sitting.  One of them sounds like Louis Armstrong.  Where's the dang waitress?  I've switched to a booth where I'm more visible, but still no waitress.  Should I have the apple and ice cream puff or a milk shake?  Whatever.  I'm spending too much money eating out.  I took a beating this weekend.  Whatever.  I should have smoked pot before coming out for dessert.  Back to school tomorrow.  Ugh.  Where the fuck is that bitch cunt waitress?  Ugh.  Ugh and fuck.  Shirelle was going to call off the engagement and move out.  I only had to say, "Go ahead."  I said nothing, though.  She cried and stormed around and then came back to hug me.  I hugged her back.  I'm such a bastard.  Yesterday, when I was telling Anna and Cynthia about my "reservations," I failed to mention what a bastard I am.  It was hot again today.  Should be again tomorrow.  I've got to pay my bills.  What else?  A dad just walked by with his kid who was making Daffy Duck spastic noises.  The guy in the booth next to me is writing a desperate love letter.  Believe me, I know.  There goes Daffy again.  Two cobwebbed skeletons sit on the other booth next to me.  Apparently, they've been waiting quite a while for their check. This place is full of faux foliage.  The waitress came!  She looks like the same waitress I had at breakfast this morning at Denny's thirty miles from here.  Back to school tomorrow.  Stanford Nine testing this week.  There won't be much time to watch that "Smoke Signals" video I rented.  I also rented "Lust for Life" with Kirk Douglas as Vincent Van Gogh.  Anthony Quinn won an Oscar for his portrayal of Gaugin.  How long does it take to make a milkshake?  I don't even want the apple puff now.  Maybe I should just sneak out of here.

4-17-99 2:36 PM Sa
I'm at Ramona Elementary for a teacher development workshop so I can get some salary points.  It's mind-numbing.  The first workshop was about how to write a sentence.  Maybe I should have had a more positive outlook.  It was about taking a "bare-bone" subject-verb sentence and expanding it with modifiers so it tells who, what, where, when, why and all that.  Duh.  It was geared toward special-needs students, and the instructor had us all pretend like we were all retarded, eight-year-old, refugees from another alphabet.  The next workshop--shit--I don't know what it was, but this time we were more advanced: we were treated like kindergartners and given lots of stuff to cut and paste.  Luckily, the instructor didn't mind me reading the sports page instead of cutting and pasting.  She kept saying everything was "cool."  "Cool" sounded funny coming from her because she was about fifty or so, though, I suppose that word should make perfect sense coming from her.  Then it was lunch.  I saw Anna and Cynthia.  They invited me to lunch with them.  Cynthia pulled out Shirelle's ring for the first item of conversation.  I gave them the old "Yeah-I-Don't-Know" routine.  We went to Bird's on Franklin, sat on the sidewalk, an umbrella kind of shading us from the record-breaking heat.  After Birds, I had a puzzles and games problem-solving class.  It was engaging enough.  A little hottie in there was tickling my balls.  We played a few games together.  We walked out together.  She asked where I work.  I told her.  She said she didn't know it.  I had seen her at a workshop at my school last month and told her so.  She said she wasn't there.  She said my next line before I could.  "Must have been some other beautiful girl," she acted like she was joking, but it was no joke.  She sure was.  "Must have been," I said.  Funny, her complimenting herself like that.  She's wearing tight pants and a light sleeveless shirt.  What does she want?  Anyways, I realized I'd left a folder behind that I needed, and Shirelle has that ring, so we parted ways.  Now I'm at some boring music class.  I wish I was with Esther.  Too bad about that name; wasn't Esther the Old Testament queen who refused the King's order to dance?