hey hey hey hi whaddya know, i've got a lot to say and i'll be gone until sunday night late, so i might as well say it now, eh?

___

"It seemed
like years
before
I picked
a bouquet
of kisses
off her mouth
and put them
into a dawn-colored vase
in
my
heart.

But
the wait
was worth it.

Because
I
was
in love."
--richard brautigan.

happy sigh.

___

the dog stopped at my bag, and i felt my heart stop.  oh christ, mom, i thought.  what'd you put in there?  she'd packed the bag for the trip pretty much by herself.  well, i'd picked things out and put them into the bag, then she took most of them out, re-washed them and re-ironed them.  so, who was to say what she'd put in there since then?

but yeah.  the dog stopped and sniffed the goddamn bag, and i groaned inwardly after my heart had started again.  the cop just sort of looked annoyed with the mutt.  i cocked my head, interested at the reaction.

the dog whines.  i guess maybe my dog had pissed on the bag or something.  the cop rolls his eyes, and then nudges the dog with his leg.  he motions to the principal.

"ok.  you can all move your bags into the back room."

oh my god i'm clean.  i sling my bag over my shoulder, loaded with four days worth of shorts and t-shirts and other florida apparel so it's heavy, and head for the back room.  other kids whose bags are in the same line as me pick them up and lug them across the tiled cafeteria.  i just sort of stay in the back; i don't particularly feel connected to anyone in the collection of travelers, and more and more, i find that if i feel no connection to people, i tend to snuff them.  sorry but i can't stand talking and smiling and acknowledging people if i don't like them.  i mean really.

the cop doesn't seem to notice me, me, the kid whose bag was sniffed by a dog.  just the same, i can feel his bored eyes burning a hole into the back of my skull.  marked, i am.  i'm marked by this cop who refuses to recognize the fact that his dog stopped longer at my bag than anyone else's.  maybe it was just dog piss and that's why the dog whined, but still.  come on.

i walk across the room, glancing at the cop, taking notes and writing them down in the slate i keep in the back of my mind somewhere.  marked.

maybe it was something in my bag.  then again, maybe it wasn't.  but don't you feel safer knowing that the cop didn't even stop to check?

___

i typically dislike the eagles for their own pomposity, but when you're cruising a back road with the windows rolled down, a girl on your mind, "hotel california" playing on non-commercial radio, may sun pouring in the window and your cropped hair bristling in the wind, they sound damn near perfect.

___

i need to rent tape and the man who was not there still, and when i go to hollywood, remind me to pick up an application to work there over the summer.  i'm getting the hell out of bob's.  i just hope lou can say the same.  and lisa.  and everyone else currently employed there.

and i hope junior dies.

and i hope rick dyes his hair pink.

and i hope sheetz stops being a puppet.

and i hope marius sweeps up the lobby again.

___

what else?  better get it all out into here before i leave, huh?

today was exhausting.  i just want responsibility to end.  i thought after the show was over i could kick it into cruise, autopilot or whatever, but then damn fias comes up with the idea to have journalism run the television show.  i guess i never realized how hard the work most of us do is until you put a bunch of inexperienced kids in there.  i wish i could see tomorrow's show just to see how horrendous it's going to be again.

i had study hall first, i thought i could relax, but then remembered i had a month's worth of journal entries to do for graphics.  then reifsnyder comes to me with more goddamn cheques to write out.  so i had that to occupy myself.

second i had acting and had to face fias after that horrible show we put on in the morning.  that sucked.  she was disappointed, i know it.  but i don't care.

after that, i had to somehow do adult and family homework, and get my psych presentation ready.  i had to type up a full sheet of info for my presentation, and that took my entire lunch.  i had no money for the copier, so said "fuck it" and printed out thirty damn copies of the sheet and didn't think twice.  the librarians didn't see me, i snuck it like a bandit.  swooped out of there, ducked to my locker, grabbed folders for the second half of the day, maxed and relaxed through english and adult and family.

psych presentation went well.  lawrence kohlberg was a legitimately interesting fellow, and i'm glad i picked a topic that sustained my interest throughout a six page paper and a five minute presentation.  i stayed after and spoke with mr. martin about it.  said i'd lose a few points for not mentioning the various criticisms that have been raised against kohlberg, but on the whole it was great.  i was able to stand there and talk to him about modern psychologist's criticisms (used all white males, lot of evidence was circumstancial) so i knew the stuff, right?  maybe he'll take that into consideration.

but, i couldn't take another day, i swear.  i say this at the end of most weeks, but really.  thank god i get the next four days away.  no parents, no school, nothing but florida and the sun.

and petey pablo (-1).

and city high (-1).

and no lindsay (-5).

but jen bought me books at the overlook book sale, so i'll have plenty of reading material (+5), including joseph heller, ken kesey, vonnegut and james joyce.  word.

___

ok, i seriously think i'm out of things to say.

i'll miss all you guys, with the exception of michelle, steph, fallon, jen, and amber, as they're all on the trip.  keep bowmansville in one piece for me until i get home.  lindsay gets off work in around twenty minutes.  night.