19 June 2002 - 8:26 p.m.

Howdy, kids.

I really need to improve my salutations before I start teaching on Monday.

After an exhaustive search for books on teaching writing at the Carnegie Library, I was able to find The Young Writer's Handbook, which I enjoyed during my youth, a free City Paper, and an eclectic pair of films. How eclectic, you ask? Would you believe, in alphabetical order, All That Jazz and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance eclectic?

I don't know why I don't spend my entire life at the public library. Oh, maybe it's because they won't issue me a friggin' card until I issue them a significant chunk of change. Oh, well. There is always Gus who has a card, but does not always appreciate the bounty that is the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh. For example, I informed him that the music library included several videos we could check out that would teach us the art of ballroom dancing, but he could not seem to get too excited about them. Perhaps some of you will drop by and have a word with him.

Also, the ratio of crazy people who talk to themselves seems to be lower at the library than at Barnes and Noble, maybe because there is security at the library. Not that I felt threatened by the guy who stood near my table and whispered something about General Colin Powell. I would just prefer to avoid being lumped into the same group of people who (1.) have no jobs, (2.) appear to be schizophrenics, and (3.) come into Barnes and Noble and read Rolling Stone out loud more regularly than they bathe.

Granted, what was worse was when a woman who sat, facing away from me, may have been someone I knew from school. Now, here was my worst nightmare coming true - being caught with a stack of bridal magazines as high as my knee, no ring on my finger, and no explanation for what I was doing. Granted, there were also a number of creative writing workbooks at - HEY! Some dude on Ed has my last name! That's a first, and probably a last.

As I was saying, my primary goal for being at the bookstore, working on lesson plans, may have been evident, but, for whatever reason, they just don't make activity books for fourth graders as thick and flashy as wedding mags. Maybe that sentence just summed up everything that is wrong with society, and maybe that's why I don't want to be caught with my porn of choice by someone who might have a shred of respect for me.

This is way too hard. I'm going to immerse myself in Bob Fosse and that famous white hat/black hat antinomy.

What I'm wearing:

What I'm reading:

What I'm doing after this: