Decided that I couldn't survive any longer without some kind of visual representation of passing time hanging from my wall. I love the feeling of being able to cross off a box with my thick black marker at the end of the day like I've accomplished something. Glad I held out until the end of February, because the neighborhood bookstore, Intellectual Property, slashed prices on all calendars to $1. Of course I was left with a somewhat limited selection - Desperate Housewives, Historical Texas, The Dalai Lama, Fireflies and Hot Campus Girls were some of the available themes. In the end I narrowed it down to two choices: Beatrix Potter or Scenes of Tuscany. Eventually, idealized Italian scenery beat out painted British rabbits and I now have one less plot of empty space on my wall.
Phantom of the Opera
Watching it this Saturday at San Antonio. CAN'T HARDLY WAIT. I've been wanting to watch it since my parents did, like, ten years ago and I'm finally getting my chance. I borrowed the DVD from school (the soundtrack wasn't available) to familiarize myself with the songs. I remember watching the movie at West Mall with Fish, Xiaoen, Yiwen and Weishan (?) and the movie stopped halfway and we went out to complain and then they replayed the entire thing from the beginning. Oh, Eng-Wah...
Homeless People
I don't know what to think of them. The homeless people on the Drag (the road running parallel to the border of school) are usually young, white and proud, mostly dreadlocked and tattooed and lugging their mangy dogs wherever they go. They sit around and laugh loudly and smoke weed and use the Starbucks bathroom and busk. Most of them look like they chose the lifestyle. I read somewhere that they can easily make $12 an hour. I don't feel particularly sorry for them. But when I take the 'Dillo (a free public bus) to Austin High to teach, I see different homeless people. The ones who drag black trash bags full of stuff and are huddled in smelly blankets in winter. But they come up the bus and I automatically think, "Please don't sit next to me." I feel terrible when I think that. The other day one sat two seats behind me and I nearly gagged. He smelled like week-old socks and cigarettes. I wish I could be more compassionate.
Sunday School
Started out as a teacher for preschool last week and it's been real fun. I've missed being able to carry 3-year-old kids around and push them on the swings. We had a bit of a messy lesson last Sunday with bright blue paint on the carpet and a particularly sensitive and sniffling little girl, but it was all good.
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