12-15-99 9:43 AM W

I’m going to get a cheeseburger in a few minutes.  My meat lust is coming back with a vengeance.  11:13 AM  I went to Jack in the Box and got a double bacon cheeseburger and fries in mayo.  Yesterday, I had a chalupa, a meximelt, and a burrito, and a PB and J sandwich, a bowl of Rochelle’s pasta with clam sauce, and three harps.  I better throw on the brakes now.  We went to Tom Bergen’s last night.  Then we went home and made love in bed.  Then I got a fun hummer in the kitchen.  This morning we humped in bed, and I got a handjob in the shower.  But I don’t kiss and tell.  I haven’t said anything about kissing.  I printed those three stories for Manny.  I can’t find the second one he gave me.  I rode my bike to work this morning.  I already read the paper.  Lisle Shernstein gave one to me.  I carried a bundle of twenty papers to her room for her.  She said, “That’s so heavy.”  I said, “That’s ok; I’m a burly-man.”  She said, “I know.”  Some psycho-ladies were calling each other bitches at Jack in the Box.  The first lady had been waiting fifteen minutes for the bathroom and began knocking.  Finally, some mentally ill homeless woman came out muttering, “Fucking bitch…”  The first lady went in, came out immediately, and snarled out to the other one, “Nasty-ass bitch!”  Then she waited while a guy went in with a mop and bucket.  Why do I write these things?  We’ve just come from the Holiday Sing-Along.  I got some compliment on my voice.  Sherry, Yovonne, Estafania, and Violeta said they liked my singing.  Whatever.  Florelle said she would give me a ride to drop off my tux downtown, and we will stop by the Toy District to pick up some trinkets for the kids.  I have to do my Christmas cards.  I’m tired.  I need some coffee.  I have to call one of those charities to take away the Chrysler.  I have to have the Honda serviced.  I have to call today.  I have to work on Jim today.  The bird seemed to like my guitar playing this morning.  He came front and center in his cage and cocked his head with the appearance of listening.  I can feel that mayo pumping through my heart.  I should go get some juice.

12-14-99 Tu 12:40 PM

I left this journal at Rochelle’s Sunday night.  She brought it with her when she came over last night.  We humped during Monday Night Football and again this morning with a handjob tucked in between.  Nuts.  I drove home drunk from that wedding.  One of the hubcaps got all screwed up.  I don’t know how.  Urgh.  The base of by thumb got all chewed up in our baseball game, diving for a ball at third.  The infield is very hard at Balboa Park.  We got murdered.  They invoked the mercy rule that ended the game after the bottom of the fifth because we were losing seventeen to nothing.  I struck out, grounded out, and made a couple of low throws.  That night I drove to Rochelle’s in Orange.  She and her mom and I went to The Block.  For a buck you could look through a telescope trained upon Saturn.  It looked like a white paper cutout with a very bright light behind it.  You could see the ring.  We went to place called Tu Tu Tango and drank and danced to a Gypsy-King-type band.  It was fun.  We fooled around a little back at Rochelle’s.  Her mom made peanut butter and mayo sandwiches.  We had to go back to my place in the middle of the night because I couldn’t find my inhaler.  Turned out it was under the seat in the car the whole time.  I forgot my tux shirt there.  I think it was due back yesterday.  Rochelle’s going to bring it tonight.  I hope that don’t charge me much for bringing it back late.  Urgh.  Rochelle has the car today and yesterday.  I’ve been riding my bike.  I typed “The Waitress with the Beautiful Body” before class this morning.  I’ve got to give a copy to Manny.  He sent back tepid comments to the Apocalypse piece, gave me another story called “Stuffed Armadillo.”  It’s strange.  I have to print another 20 pages of Jim for Jim.  S’posed to call Dahn.  Call to have the Chrysler hauled away.

12-10-99 F 12:30 PM
Two more hours 'til I can go home.  It's sunny today, but it's cold and windy.  I picked up the tux after school yesterday.  I stopped in at Poster and Frame and looked through their catalog.  I went home and beat.  Then I drove out to Pasadena with a flask of bourbon and water to the church where my boyhood friend's, Pablo's, wedding was.  I escort a girl named Jenny down the aisle.  Her boyfriend is an Arcadia cop.  After rehearsal, we had dinner at Burger Continental on Lake and California.  I bought a box of Christmas cards at the drug store next to the restaurant. They show Santa fishing with his line tangled in a reindeer's antlers.  I had a few Sam Adams with my falafel, stuffed grape leaves, shishkabob, pita bread, chicken, and some kind of cheese pastry.  I heard Jenny say they were being naughty.  I said, "I want to be naughty, too."  Whatever.  I drove home. Called my mom.  Talked to Rochelle.  Had a hard time sleeping.  I made the bed this morning and spot-mopped the floor.  Had juice, a vitamin, and a cup of cold coffee.  Played a little guitar.  I drove to work.  Got a newspaper.  I helped the kids edit their paragraphs.  Read the paper.  We corrected our math homework.  I sat in the employee lounge at lunch.  Eileen Horowicz gave me a cup of won ton soup.  My tongue is a little scalded.  The kids are doing silent reading right now.  I've got to try to do a third-person page when I get home.  I'm supposed to call Howrad at 3:30.  I hope I can fall asleep for a few hours.  I invited Ralph and Florelle to the house around seven to warm up some before this party.  Ralph told me he invited a girls' basketball team.  I'll have to be careful with the booze so I'm not a wreck at this wedding tomorrow.  When I'm done here, I'll read some more of "The Gold Bug."  I'll make some tacos when I get home.  What else? 

12-9-99 Th 12:41 PM

I’m in class.  Half my kids went with Mr. Coonan to go to a Marine Institute program, so we’re just kicking back today.  I typed fifteen minutes this morning.  Ate that leftover Chinese.  Ran the dishwasher.  Took out the trash.  I have to mop the kitchen and bathroom floors.  I should get a new mop.  I didn’t make my bed this morning.  I put some coffee in a thermos and brought it to work.  I drove today since I’ve been sick, and it has been so cold.  I walked with Florelle to the Royal Mart and bought a newspaper.  I just finished reading it a little bit ago.  The Kings beat the Lakers.  McCain is leading Bush in New Hampshire.  I talked to Kendoll a little this morning.  Esther Han touched my arm, admired my jacket.  I wonder if she’ll be at Zattan’s thing tomorrow.  Florelle and I talked about taking a cab from my house.  I read a short story of Manny’s and gave him the Johnny Bayless story.  I have to pick up that tux after school today.  Then I’ll type real fast and get over to Pasadena before the traffic gets too bad.  Mabye I’ll try to see Bond tonight.  Or maybe I’ll just stay out late and party.  I’ve got to read “The Gold Bug” after this.  I need to floss.  I’m going down to Orange County Friday to hang out with Rochelle and her mom.  What else?  I should ask Mark if I need to call that number to RSVP.  It’s overcast today.  The perfect late autumn sky.  I think I’ll stick with Lite Beer tonight.  I’ll have to be careful about driving.  We go to the library in the morning, and we have a grade-level meeting after recess tomorrow.  The party’s tomorrow.  Wedding Saturday.  What time is the wedding?  Baseball Sunday morning.  Rochelle Sunday night.  Back to work one week before vacation.  I’m giving the final on Monday and Tuesday.  Wednesday, we’ll go over it.  Thursday, we’re having a potluck.  Friday’s the Wilshire Hill holiday party at Acapulco and Mamagaya.  Saturday, I’m supposed to go to Orange County for the weekend to seem my aunt, cousins, and Rochelle.  I’ve got to go fucking Christmas shopping.  I have to buy a box of cards.  Maybe buy a tree.  Find out about decorations.

12:50 PM 12-8-99 W

I didn’t go to work on account of a mild cold.  Yesterday I got a check from the district for a net two hundred and forty-eight dollars.  Some in the office said it was money for not using any sick days.  So now I’ve taken two this week.  I’d really like to concentrate on writing more today.  I’m a little high and a little tripped out about not being at work.  Life is so strangely wonderful.  The clock tock I hear plus some other beat that’s not my heart.  What is that?  Rochelle just called.  I told my stepmother that something about the girl I’ve been seeing reminded me of her.  I left a message for my sister.  I moved the cynical parrot into the kitchen.  Shirelle’s tree got blown over on the porch, and some of its branches broke off, so I brought it back in.  I’m wondering when she’s gonna pick it up, but I don’t really want to talk to her.  ~~~~-Some little bit of sadness in that. ~~~~~Tales of ratiocination.  Poe’s deductive reasoning and macabre fascinations are a pain in the ass in “Marie Roget.”  I’ve got to work more on that when I’m done here.  I pick some of my reading so randomly.  I like randomness.  What else?  I’ve got to work tonight.  Walters and I went up to Larchmont this morning for coffee and bagels and to read the paper but mostly just to talk about women.  I could go for a glass of wine.  Or maybe water.  After I read the rest of the thirty pages of that dumb Poe piece, I’ll print and do a third-person page and print some more.  Birds don’t fart, do they?  The difference between love and lovely…I’ve got to figure out what to do with the Chrysler.  I wonder how bad I’m going to get nailed on my taxes for this year.  Here’s a UCLA winter quarter extension catalog of classes.  Should I look into taking a Saturday class?  A writing class [pensive cartoon face in black ink]?  I’m squatting on the wood floor with my back against the sofa.  My knees are a little achy.  I could go for swinging a bat.  Poe’s stupid story.  My stupid story.  Rewrite in the works.  Tomorrow’s that rehearsal.

12-7-99 Tu 11:45 Am
I'm at school.  We found some pictures yesterday at Z Galerie that we liked.  Rochelle put them on her American Express.  I have to remember to pay her back.  We went to Le Sex Shoppe and bought a couple videos:  "The Greatest F*cks of the Century" and a John Holmes classic.  Is this weird?  She took me to Pablo's in her Saturn where I picked up my sister's Honda.  She was following me home, but we got separated on the 110 around downtown.  She was lost for a while, but eventually found her way to my place. I rode my bike to night school.  We're studying for the final.  I've got to pick up Scantrons.  When class was over, I rode home. Rochelle was in my boxers in the kitchen roasting one of the chickens Juma gave me.  We had a decent hump on the couch in front of the open window to the street.  If it didn't bother her, then I guess it didn't bother me.  The cynical parrot seemed to be spying on us.  Maybe he looked at us sideways because we were eating chicken.  It came out pretty good.  We ate it with fried potatoes and corn on the cob.  After we ate, we cleaned up and hit the sack.  A read a little more "Marie Roget."  Rochelle is reading "A Confederacy of Dunces."  We both started nodding off soon as I turned off the light.  The alarm was supposed to go off at five thirty, but it didn't.  Rochelle had to rush home with the bare necessities.  She said she'd have dinner waiting for me when I got home.!?  Pleasure and anxiety all twisted together.  Do we know what we're getting ourselves into?  Is this going too fast?  Can I be counted on?  She can be.  I slept another half hour or so after she'd gone.  Then I showered and dressed.  Gave the bird water and food as he eyed me suspiciously.  Rode my bike here.  I saw Manny again, and we talked about exchanging our work.  I've got to print some stuff for him after school today.  I read the newspaper this morning.  GOP debates.  Russia set to pulverize Grozny.  Bucs beat Vikings.  I'm skipping lunch.  After this I'll read more Poe.  I've got to make stockings.  Gloria says she can do an art lesson with the kids.