This Journal

8.25.99 - Wednesday

The mundane clutters up a day with its rich mess of tiny things that seem not so important in themselves.

Today I did not remember to pick up the homeroom attendance sheet from my mailbox on the faculty lounge. I almost never go to the faculty lounge. Then I realized I already had it in my folder. Then I realized I didn't fill it out or put it on the door. I'm completely out of synch in this universe.

This window won't open. This window will have to be replaced. This heating/cooling unit will not work. This heating/cooling unit grudgingly spills out a dribble of coolness after someone fiddles with it.

My feet hurt. My voice is almost back in shape.

The freshmen are looking pretty comfortable with each other in my classes - and in Dominic's when I stop by. They still say they don't know each other's names. I'm trying hard, but I'm learning names very slowly. It will come as I have dealings with them. Some make it clear they want to be known right now; others seem willing to let me figure it out by Christmas...or never.

Mass tomorrow requires songsheets that homeroom teachers need to imprint with room number and student names so that students who just drop them in the gym may be properly punished. The Mass tomorrow needs me to be a Eucharistic Minister (Some kid stopped me in the hall said "Will you do this?" and I said "Sure." Who was she?) It will be fine if I can find the gym.

One phone will not let me access my voice mail, but the other one will. How's that? No calls anyhow.

How many poems with animals does this book have? How did we end up with animal poems? I'd never read this good one by Roethke, called "The Meadow Mouse," until today. How do I get somewhere else from here? They are going to test my commandment against ripped out spiral pages. A couple of them always have something to say; many sit in skinny buddha silence.

A short meeting after school with snacks introduced the big school fundraiser, Street Scenes. A nice lady I haven't met stood at the overhead explaining forms and procedures, using unfamiliar language that reinforced my sense that I've fallen onto another planet. "This is a big event in Lake County." Brian and Dominic promise to help me through it. I'm too tired to care that I don't understand a thing. I was fine until I sat down.

That fire hydrant just rode off on its bike. No, it's a kid in his helmet. The actual hydrant still sits red and yellow in skinny buddha silence.

I witnessed a wild and crazy battle on my email last night which has continued into today. I'm on what amounts to an unofficial Joliet teen list serve (courtesy of Jeff) called "Capricious Youth?" I enjoy it; but this recent conflict got pretty bloody. I never could figure the original point. It revolved around variations on "Oh yeah? Come over here and say that to my face." Some very creative cussing.

Very quiet at dinner tonight. I think we're all tired or preoccupied. I'm both...wondering what new thing is next. Had yummy chicken picante with fresh cilantro. I can still taste it two and a half hours later. Burp. Mmmmmm. Good.

More mud on the track tonight from bleacher construction. I tried to run around it but still splattered myself. I don't mind, but Dominic (with his wonderful cleaning mania) would be appalled. He didn't walk tonight. They turned the lights on just as I finished. We do like bright things.