10-21-00 10:27 PM Sa

The Yanks just beat the Mets in twelve innings of Game One on Vizcaino’s slash single down the line. The GIP, Rochelle, Lulu, and I watched the whole thing. I think Lulu is a Mets fan. I ate roast pork shoulder and cheese and crackers and mixed nuts and drank beer and margaritas. I woke up around eight this morning and edited some Jim. I finished “Death in Venice.” It was pretty gay. Sort of a modern telling of Plato’s Phaedra/beauty stuff. I couldn’t decide whether Asenbach’s love for Tadzio was a sexual thing or if it was a boy so as to be not sexual. Whatever. He seemed like a dirty old queer pedophile using a lot of ancient musings on beauty to lust after a teenage boy. Maybe, then, Mann’s moral comes in Asenbach’s pestilent death. Is not plague one of God’s angels of vengeance against we sinners? Asenbach relies on Greek mythology to interpret beauty. I wonder what Mann believed. The plague seems like a Biblical end for Asenbach. For all of Asenbach’s love and desire for the boy, Mann’s evocation of Eros suggests homosexuality. Whatever. I typed fifteen minutes about how aggravating things at my school have become. Whatever. I walked the dog down to the corner to get a newspaper. She dropped a load on the way down and another five minutes later on the way back. I scraped paint off the floor in the baby’s room, swept, and placed the rocking chair, toy chest, changing table, crib, and mattress. The mothers came up from OC. I blended some margaritas and put the stroller together. Moms were giddy with tequila and grandmotherly anticipation. They left around two, and I read the paper. The crossword was too much for me today. GIP came over and we drove to the store for beer, dogs, nuts, and Crackerjack for the game. I’m sleepy. I should read more of that daddy book. We have videos to watch. Rochelle has another shower tomorrow. We’re getting a dresser, and I don’t know what else. We need a rug. And curtains. Call Grandma. Call Gil. Third person. Jim. Koran. 15. Bible. Journal.