3-6-01 Tu 2:11 PM

We’re out on on the yard. The puddles from the latest storm have nearly all ascended to the heavens. It’s sunny to the west, but ominous clouds are mounting in the north, and the spindly tree branches quake in the same wind that buffets or faces. I’m up next to play handball. We have a staff meeting after school today. I’ve half a mind to point out any absurdities that come up. Whatever. After that, I’ve got to get over to Hoover. First, I’ll read some of that tax book. I’ve got to try to get Veyla to sign that permit. Ugh. Write a third person. Should I bring the laptop or go home and do it? I read a few pages of Cities of the Plain this morning. Jim is no worse. McCarthy has an annoying habit of keeping his reader in the dark about which character he’s writing about. ~~In the auditorium now. Won wonk wonk is all I hear. 4:47 I pulled off Pico at a place called Mike’s Hideout BEER POOL. Two bums lay passed out on either side of the street where I parked. The place was soulless except for a fat old woman wiping down the bar. The woman had lit some fragrant candles in glasses, adorned with images of La Virgen de Guadlupe. I asked if they had liquor or only beer. “Only beer,” she said. She must be wondering what I’m doing here. A Spanish-language soap opera plays on a TV on top of a refrigerator. Christmas lights hang from the bar. St. Michael banishes Satan in a framed picture. She gives me my bar with a paper picnic napkin. The jukebox awaits coins across the concrete floor. Elephant curios line a shelf in the back. And old Mex-Asian guy looks at me disapprovingly. Two calendars with topless women hang by a phone. Decorations for a baby shower hang from the ceiling including a paper stork dealing a bundle of joy and a mobile of rattles and rubber duckies. The round wood tables have red cloths and clear plastic over them. I imagine it's a frightful place Saturday, midnight.

3-8-01 Th 11:42 AM

I typed fifteen minutes this morning. Forwent a shower. Ate a bagel. Rode my bike to school. Bought a newspaper. The price of the times has doubled to fifty cents. I’m reading this tax planner book. It’s not helping much. When I’m done here, I’ll look at the paper. I’m tired behind the eyes. Rochelle and the baby are going to OC tonight. They’re going to meet up with Uncle Terry and my mom. I get to stay home because I have to work.