6-2-99 W 11:09 AM
Ugh.  Ugh.  One of the cafeteria ladies was murdered yesterday.  Her ex shot her twice.  Inexplicable.  Fuck.  Whatever.~~~~~  Guess I'll go for a hamburger at lunch.  Rent a couple of movies.  The kids are working on four as a factor.  Hyna brought "West Side Story."  The world is doomed.  Beverly McFadden was here name.  Her mother lives on Keniston.  Her kids go to Wilshire Hill.  We used to talk in the morning when I got my coffee.  I used to see her on Keniston.  I invited her to my BBQs.  Whatever.  I haven't been writing much lately.  I've got to figure out what to do with Jim and Aaron.  Has Jim got asthma?  Should I tell about the cats and sports?  I can't wait to eat a hamburger.  It rained all night.  I read the newspaper this morning.  Beverly's murder was in the Metro section.  Shirelle dropped me off at work.  I left my bike home in case it rains today.  Leslie invited me up to Nic's Martini Bar tonight.  I've got to give Jim another paragraph TODAY.  I have to pick up my books from LACAS.  It's almost time to line up for lunch.  I should get some time to read Idiot during silent reading today.  What else?  Beverly drove an old black BMW.  When she saw me walking or riding my bike she would honk and wave.  I'm at Jack in the Box now.  The paper quoted her neighbor as saying she was like the neighborhood mom.  I wonder if there will be enough time to go to Blockbuster.  I have to get stamps soon, too.  What's taking so long with my burger?  When's my tax refund going to get here?  When's that Bahamas chick [photo of traveling carnival on Pico] gonna call?  I HAVE TO ADD ANOTHER PARAGRAPH TO JIM.  What else?  I'm sick of my eating habits.  All of the sudden, I'm not drawing much anymore.

6-1-99 Tu 10:51 PM
I didn't go to my desk this morning.  I read chapter 6 of The Idiot.  Myshkin has aroused the ire of Garvil Ardlionovitch.  I guess Ganya loves Aglaya, but stands to lose a hundred thousand rubles if he doesn't marry Filipovna, only Aglaya doesn't like him, for which Ganya blames Myshkin, because he was so quickly able to ingratiate himself.  Whatever.  The Idiot is idiotic.  Emblematic of the flawed Russian way.  Whatever.  Because I had to read, I didn't type this morning.  Since I didn't type, I didn't go to my desk and see the card I was supposed to put in the mail for my stepmother's birthday.  Maybe I should go home at lunch and mail it.  Ugh.  I mailed in my homework to the cluster office and my registration for the salary point workshops this Saturday.  Plus I filed away my ELDs and did some cums this morning.  Whatever.  Whatever.  I don't know if I can take another four weeks with these little bastards.  The STEPS scoring is one week from today.  When I get home today, I have to work on Jim.  They're running away from Jim throwing the trashcan through the window.  Guess I'll staple another photograph in here.  Then I won't have to write as much.  Ugh.  I'm sick of everything.  I was thinking I should give up coffee.  What else?  Got to go to the LACAS office before work tonight.  There was a HELP WANTED sign at the Redondo Beach King's Harbor Sportfishing office. [photo out the front upstairs window of 1222 S. Keniston Av]  That would be a fun summer job.  Whatever.  Looks like another inauspicious journal start.  Ugh.  I ate a turkey and a cheese croissant at recess.  Now I don't need lunch.  I ate a peanut butter and jelly for breakfast.

5-31-99 M 4:03 PM
We're at Sara's little pad in Redondo.  The girls are talking about diamonds.  They're talking about the cut.  How do you cut a diamond, I wonder.  I thought it was the hardest substance known to man.  Sara has some veronica in a vase on the table out here on the patio.  Tim's 'que-ing up some carne asada.  We've just been out riding our bikes around.  It's a glorious Memorial Day.  The weather is perfect.  Tim's telling about his buddy that got burned in a gas explosion.  What else?  There's a Diego [black ink sketch of Shirelle's head] Rivera exhibit at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.  [the vase and flowers] Shirelle and Sara don't like Ricky Martin's singing, but Sara likes watching him move his hips.  Livin' la Vida Loca Tu y yo ole ole ole.  What else?  Tim and Sara are going for corn chips.  I feel trippy.  I'm tired and wired.  [a veronica up close] What can I say about Jim when I get home?  How am I ever going to get to the end of this page?  My foot is itchy.  Back to school tomorrow.  At least it will be a short week.  Then only three weeks 'til summer vacation. No more Javier.  No more Twontae.  I wish I could rent a car and drive I-90.  Shirelle's talking about how my mom only cooks chicken.  What else?  Why can't I think of anything?  I'm blocked.  [Diego Rivera's Flower Festival]What else?  Shirelle is talking about what a good boy Hunter is.  She attributes that to his mom's calm pregnancy.  She says when she's pregnant, she's going to stay calm and cool.  I said, "Why don't you try that now."

5-30-99 Su 12:16 PM
I'm in the bar at Noonan's.  I've just come from hitting a bucket of balls at Rancho.  Robbie Gordon was leading the Indianapolis 500 with a lap and a half to go when he ran out of gas.  That guy used to work at CO Thompson when I was there.  Some guy named Breck won.  When asked on live TV what he thought when he ran out of gas, Gordon said, "Aww, shit."  The commentator said, "Hard to control emotions and words when you're that close to winning the premiere racing event in the world and fall short."  I'm on my second bloody mary.  I've got to get home and wash Shirelle's car.  I finished Luke this morning.  For the first time I felt emotionally affected by the story of Jesus' betrayal and the cruelty of the high priests who insisted on his crucifixion.         Graf defeated Kournikova at the French Open. Venus Williams and Jennifer Capriati lost.  Que mas?  Shall I go out for a smoke?  Shall I lift some weights when I get home?  The Braves and Dodgers are tied in the ninth. The bartender has a basso voice.  He's slicing lemons.  Two women sent back their bloody marys.  Said they wouldn't pay for them.  I said, "Mine sucks, too.  I don't want to pay for it."  
What should I paint on those two pages I skipped?  Now I'm having a Sam Adams. [black ink sketch of Samuel Adams lifting a tankard of Boston lager]  "Especially in this neighborhood Easter's a hot one."  I'm supposed to be--  "Instead of celery, put some bacon in that Mary."  What else?  I've been debating the worth of Nicks coach Jeff Van Gundy with a NY native.  Out.

5-29-99 Sa 8:16 PM
I'm in the living room at home here on Hudson.  Shirelle's friend Joe is visiting.  I'm tired.  I went down to the market and dropped two hundred dollars on groceries.  I've had indigestion all day.  Tim invited us to a party in Tujunga, but I'm burning too hard to go.  I've got to move on to my third-person.  I'm in the bathroom now.  I'm taking my fourth shit of the day.  An exceptionally loose and stinky one. It burns: evidence it's that late-night taco stand visit coming back to haunt me.  What else?  Shirelle put on my John Coltrane tape.  There's a toy hamburger, bun and lettuce, on the tub, and a wind-up toy spider and Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.  I need some Metamucil or something.  The Angels and Royals are in the middle of the seventh.  Joe says his fraternity brothers made him run the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art in his underwear.  He went to Temple.  What else?  Joe left.  [a line sketch in pencil of an elegant woman on a staircase]  Shirelle wants to go to Blockbuster.  Maybe we'll go to Hollywood Video.  I forgot what my third-person is supposed to be.  I see where I accidentally skipped two pages in this journal a few pages ago.  Maybe I can do some water colors there.  Gil's hand got chewed up in a meat grinder when he was a kid.  I hadn't noticed before yesterday when we were talking about why the navy rejected us.  Steve Sparks needs two outs for his first career shutout.  He's a knuckleballer.  There are guys on second and third.  I wonder how Hahvahd did today.  Now Shirelle doesn't want to go out for a video.  "Yuh better not be eating my ice cream," she says.  "I don't want to have to beat you tonight."  It sounds like something she heard growing up.