Me: You met the school nurse?
Bobby: Yeah.
Me: I’ve never seen her. What’s she like?
Bobby: I think the only thing she’s been nursing is a forty ounce.
Me: Oh…niiiiice.
Talking shop and smack
A dog’s life
I may as well introduce myself to the man at the next table in the crowded sandwich shop. He is facing my profile and sits two feet away. His sandwich crumbs mingle with my sandwich crumbs and make a mess of the wobbly table where I sit. The man could brush the hair out of my face without having to lean forward. I keep expecting a kiss on the cheek.
Ain’t no place for that Berenstein Bear shit here
Bertram, the new permanent substitute at I.S. 666: You know, I have the reading virus. I’m hoping to infect these kids with that virus. Yes siree, I’ll give them a dose of that!
I was a gray-haired college student
After writing about my laundry debacle and my mom’s subsequent rescue, I keep recalling another time my mom bailed me out.
The current state of the future
Alex is this kid who used to be in Mr. C.’s homeroom class. I loved pulling him out to work in small groups, because he’s considerate and tries hard to do his best. His weakness is a quick temper. Other students often picked on him for “acting white” and being “too good,” but also for being so dark-skinned. Alex would yell and fight back, shaken by this ostracism for being too much and too little at the same time.
A war begun
It started out, appropriately enough, with an egg.
Mr. L. had his back turned as he solved a math problem on the chalkboard. Students behind him buzzed with boredom and restlessness. He was explaining the process and carrying a one when the lights went out.
X and Y
I met a man last week who reminded me of another man I know.
It was the way this new man called a woman his “paramour,” an occasional gesture, the earnest gaze as he listened and responded to me, our conversation like an assembly line making meaning.
Gray underwear, scurvy, and a frantic call home
My mom had to talk me off a ledge last night.
I hurried home after Saturday school to meet the dad that bought the exersaucer on Craigslist. Then I cleaned up my room, ran to Duane Reade to buy some detergent, and did laundry at the apartment. One of the greatest amenities of my apartment, besides the location and proximity to everything, is the washer and dryer in our kitchen. Free laundry is a beautiful thing…or so I always thought. I triumphantly crossed all the lines off the to-do list only to find later that the washer ruined some of my whites. My two white undershirts were gray. My white pillow case was ecru. A light pink nightskirt now had blue-gray bruises all over the front.
It’s Friday, I’m in like
Friday started out a forgettable day for me, but I mean that in the best way. Nothing was so bad that it will forever stand out as That Horrible Friday When…, but nothing was so exceptional, either. Bobby, on the other hand, came out of the closet at work…after a student locked him in one. Had it happened to me, I think I would have either 1) gone completely insane and violent or 2) just given up and pretended to be dead when the students finally opened the closet door. (Guilt is great)! My uncloseted teacher companion was in a bad mood, but we headed downtown anyway.
I am here
My dad believes that moving to New York is a big step down from living in Texas. I understand that people in Texas have a lot more discretionary income, the housing is more affordable, the cities are cleaner, the public schools are better, but as far as I’m concerned, those factors don’t outweigh that New York City is really happening. I enjoy my public transportation, landmarks, constant flurry of activity, and liberal politics. I can’t imagine ever raising a family in this city, because of how hard it is to live comfortably here, but I’m really excited that I moved. When I go to Times Square - which I generally detest for its commercialism and overcrowding - I’m still awe-struck. I look up at the buildings miles above me and think, “I live here?”
