for like 2 days. those that have my cell # (it's in my member profile), call me if you want to hang out.

i have no idea where i'm staying.

please also post the sites of the chinatown bus companies and/or where to find out the schedules and stuff.

thanks.

i just bought this issue of this magazine. i really like this magazine.



its got an a great artcle including this heat, one of my favorite bands and a sweet review/commentary about wolf eyes preforming with tony braxton. everyone should check this out.

Reggie and Ben are crazy!

Stop calling me when you're drunk. :)

Last year was the hardest year of my life. Starting my master's and trying to work as an SLP in a poor Baltimore City public school was a painfully difficult undertaking. I don't even want to talk about it.

But I had a really nice summer to recollect myself. That is, if you can call it summer. I was taking summer classes and working in a clinic for two months. But that was easy compared to the rigors of Balrimore City Public Schools. I had so much free time this summer that I achieved new and amazing heights of laziness. It was a glorious time.

I capped off the summer with a few days in New Orleans and Gulf Shores, Alabama. Surrounded by millions of nieces and nephews, I pretended to listen to syblings talking about their stock portfolios. I felt more at home than I've felt in a long time. I started longing for the city of my birth. At the beach I watched porpoises leap in the distance, swam with baby sharks within feet of my feet, and spotted a sting ray hovering over the sand near the shore. In my mind, I plotted my escape. It costs $38,000 to buy my freedom (I've signed a contract with the state saying that I will work a total of 7 years in the Baltimore public schools in exchange for a fully paid master's and a nice salary. If I leave a day sooner, I will owe them all the $$ they paid toward my degree). I hate money. I have no clue how to handle it. My family seems to know about money. They will be my accomplices in my escape, I decided.

Upon my return to Baltimore, I grabbed the mail in my over-stuffed mailbox dropped the pile on the floor of my messy unairconditioned appt. Like an ostrich, I pulled the covers over my head and used all of my will to ignore my impending doom. I report back to my job on Wednesday.

You see, I was once a young idealist brimming with energy and eager to use my talents to help disadvantaged kids. That was last summer. After a year of mind-boggling regulations, mountains of seemingly pointless paperwork that matters way too much, and endless threats from parents, supervisors, administrators, medicaid, the city, the state, the fed gov't, etc... I grew weary. Now I'm disenchanted and entirely too whiny about my disposition. Like so many before me who did similar things in inner city schools, all my oomf left. I hate that.

So when I finally dragged myself out of bed at noon today to confront the menacing pile of mail, I didn't expect good news. Apparently, I was awarded a handsome grant to perform research with my kids at school -- something that I all but forgot applying for last year. Hot damn! It's encouragement! Somebody values what I do and thinks I deserve money for it. (What a crock... .but not if I change my attitude)

Just at the moment when I was gonna throw in the towel, I get an incentive to stay. I'm hyper and excited about school starting again. I went out this afternoon and threw down my last few pennies on school supplies. I hope this momentum lasts and carries me through this year. I'm gonna need it in order to get my oomf back.

I spent 4 hours today registering parents for elementary school,
mostly in spanish.
The first words out of my mouth each time:

"Desculpe me, pero mi español es muy malo,
Pero es posible que you puedo ayudarle."

I'm a smart person. Not being humble or arrogant,
but I'm a smart person.
So I can do pretty well at being respectful and encouraging,
and I successfully communicate despite not speaking spanish very well.
I'm told my accent is pretty good though.

I grope for words, smile and say sorry a lot,
purse my lips, furrow my brow,
and lurch through,
and the parents usually leave happy,
with their registrations complete.

I leave, enervated, with an abiding sense of mental defficiency.

What do you do, that takes a lot of smarts but leaves you feeling like you got none?