1-24-00 M 112:45 PM

I was taking a piss in the classroom sink when Joe from next door walked in.  I shoved my pissing dick back in my pants and pissed down my leg.  Joe didn’t seem to notice, but I do smell like piss now.  I haven’t been writing much lately, but I did type fifteen minutes of random baloney this morning.  I read the paper.  Kids talked about their weekends.  Daniel beat up his brother.  Pedro beat up his sister.  Walter got a bike from his uncle for his sister’s birthday.  They wrote in their journals.  At recess, I took the sports page into the bathroom and jerked off onto a picture of Serena Williams, who was eliminated from the Australian Open.  How depraved is that?  Why do I write these things?  Senorita Villa seems to want me to help her get work at LACAS.  After recess, we did problem-solving: counting change.  Then I went to that meeting.  At lunch, I read the paper some more.  There is nothing new under the sun.  The kids are supposed to be doing their silent reading right now, but they’re mostly all goofing around.  I’ve got to read some more Blake when I get a chance.  Have to call Blue Cross when I get home.  Read Ueland.  Do third person.  Read McCain.  Got to work.  Watch “Entrapment.”  Start all over again tomorrow.  Have to bring those tapes back to Blockbuster tomorrow.  Jim’s still helping with the transmission fluid.  I ate some Pringles.  Maybe I write too much.  Nothing is getting stored.  Nothing is fermenting or fomenting.  Maybe I ought to dam this trickle ‘til I’ve got some floodwaters.  I’m thirsty.  We’ve got some more about the Cheyenne to study.  Then we’ll play handball.  What else?  Blake has invented this pantheon of bizarrely-named deities; One, Orc, seems to represent Wilderness and Savage Instinct.  Urthona seems to represent Civilization, as in the English Empire and its monarchy, and Urizen, the Rule of the Law.  A dark virgin, clad in iron and clouds, is colonial America.  “The fiery joy that Urizen perverted to ten commands…”  “What God is he writes laws of peace & clothes him in a tempest?”  Los is in league with Orc.

1-2-00 1:51 PM Th

I’ve got to call IKEA when I get home.  A total eclipse of the moon will start while I’m in class tonight.  I was thinking of taking the night off.  Sit in the backyard and get drunk and watch the world’s shadow fall across the face of the moon.  I haven’t eaten today.  I’ll eat leftover pasta when I get home.  I can leave in half an hour.  These idiot kids are killing me.  I typed fifteen minutes this morning.  I rode my bike to school.  Got a newspaper.  I watched a movie last night called “Cookie’s Fortune,” a folksy, predictable bore about small-town Southern mores; Glenn Close played a conservative Christian bitch without any Christian values.  We finished our prefix/suffix lesson this morning.  Then we did a lesson on short i.  At recess, I made copies of the Standards-Based Performance Assessments for each grade-level rep.  We did a lesson on making change for a dollar.  I brought the STEPS crap to the grade-level reps during lunch and read the newspaper.  We went to music.  We started a lesson on the Cheyenne medicine dance.  The kids are acting like shits today.  I’m looking forward to eating.  I’ll have to wait ‘til I get home to read Blake.  I have to turn in my LACAS materials tonight.  I have to take these videos back to Blockbuster.  Third-person page.  McCain.  Bounty tonight?  Happy hour tomorrow?  Golf Saturday?  Movie?  Exhibition?  Sunday baseball.  Got to go to my mom’s to see her cousin Canday.  Dinner at Rochelle’s mom’s.  Bible.  Begin Revelations.  Then every week will be work work work until President’s Day.  Talk to Cluadine.  Figure out about the car.  Where’s Mac with my weed?  We’re outside now.  The idiots are playing handball.  It’s awfully overcast.  I wonder if we’ll be able to see the eclipse.  3:07 PM  I’m home now.  Rochelle was here when I got home.  She hasn’t been feeling well.  She has gone off the pill.  She’s got bad cramps that kept her from sleeping.  They let her go home.  My new couch is already leaking fluff.  When will the new chair be in?  I wonder if Thing will cough up his truck.  I wonder how many people feel my elopement was desperate and capricious.  I have letters and cards to write.

1-19-00 W 1:41 PM
I'm at my desk in room thirty-three at Wilshire Hill.  The kids are reading a unit about the Cheyenne.  I read some more Ueland this morning. She wrote of a shy Irish girl who wrote honestly and effortlessly.  She quotes a lot of Blake and Van Gogh.  I read some old third-person pages.  I don't know if I was in a good mood, but the pages seemed pretty good.  I rode my bike to school.  I got a newspaper.  I took care of a pile of crap on my desk while the kids were busy with the computers.  We did a lesson on prefixes and suffixes.  We didn't finish it yet.  We'll finish it tomorrow.  I took care of some clerical-type crap at recess.  The kids read their ML King research.  Only one of them didn't suck.  Crystal copied something she got off the internet.  Then we went to an assembly in the auditorium to honor Dr. King.  I did the crossword.  Rodney and I were standing together, and I said sardonically, "Why am I here honoring Dr. King, all he's done is erode my people's privilege."  Rodney shook his head and started laughing.  As we listened, though, the tragedy set in.  It turns the stomach that people can be so ignorant and cruel.  When it was over, some of the kids said they felt like crying.  I said I knew how they felt.  It's difficult trying to explain to them that King was murdered out of hatred.  My only hope is that perhaps dying like that amplified his message, but I'm afraid tribal selfishness might be evolutionarily ingrained, and at least half of all humans are not disposed to empathy.  King symbolizes the fight for freedom as much or more as anyone on Mt.Rushmore.   ~~~~ I ate some leftover chicken that Rochelle packed for my lunch.  Anna asked me by the microwave how married life is.  "So far, so good," I said.  "I have like five-minute flashes everyday where I'm like 'What have I done?!'" - I slap my cheeks - "But the other twenty-three hours and fifty-five minutes are pretty cool."  That's what I said.  She seemed a tiny bit disappointed.  Ralph and I talked about golfing on Saturday.  I've got to read some McCain.  I read Blake's "Prophecy of America" with some Orc and some Iron Maiden evoking Paine and Washington, Hancock and Franklin.  I was diddling Rochelle while I read it, so I didn't quite get the whole thing.  Got to call Pat Micelli when I get home.  Do a third-person page.  I mailed the gas, phone, and cable bills.  Gotta work tonight.  Gotta go by the office.  We're going to PE when I'm done here.  I have some shoes I want repaired.  I'm tired.  I need a nap or some coffee.  I've got to crap.  We've got to go to Orange County on Sunday for some familial obligations.