a snob. a jerk.
it's like this: the school has temporarily moved locations. was: rosebushes and golden retriever puppy dogs at play in the honey light. joggers and ivy-hung windows. couples standing arm-in-arm on the front steps--probably divorcing, but aesthetically pleasing and glowing with the look of people feeding solely on organic farmer's market produce.
today, i'm driving to the new location with a friend.
me: oh, no. no. no f*cking way.
her: not sooo bad.
me, looking at the man with a leg missing and a full beer, who is screaming at us from the middle of the road: oh yeah, it's perfect. are you NUTS? they can't come here, they can't see this.
her: oh my god.
she's spotted something, but i don't know what b/c all i can see is the guy smoking a blunt and the miles of chicken wire fencing and abandoned cars.
to be fair, the school is sure to be stunning when it's remodeled. plus, the temp. building is quite lovely inside and the children seem oblivious to the despair outside. i can't even believe i had this reaction--it's awful and wrong i know. but there were people smoking blunts, like on the same block. anyway, spent much of the day trying to figure out what was wrong with me. only took 6 hrs to identify the emotion, and finally had to settle on: protective. gross.
omg. two things: i hesitated abt posting this--i didn't want to speak negatively abt the area surrounding the temp school. i want to be an active and supportive member of the pta. so i phoned mamie who called me a moron. and bourgeois. that's mamie, who knows what she's talking abt since she grew up on the streets of detroit.
second: mamie has just told me that she forgot her best friend's birthday. they've been friends since they were 5. her friend called and sang happy birthday into the phone--mamie had no idea why. it's the 5th yr running she's forgotten her birthday.
i remind her that my birthday is nov. 16 and it's on a friday, to which she says: oh, that might be a bad week. might be in london hanging out in a fabulous house with no children.
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Your poet roomy has told me that I made the list of potential baby-sitters. I have taken your situation close to my heart. I, at a young age, was forced away somewhere and to do something. I'm not sure what. I might have made that up. ANYWAY, I want you to know that I am a master of tic-tac-toe and monopoly. They shall never be bored with me around. Can they play xbox?
compton. clearly i'm from compton. get it right, moron.
at least it's on a street called "princess place." that has to count in some misnomered, delusional way...
and nearby there was that weird engineering school... or laboratory... or something.
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