233 pm

.."And these children that you spit on
as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations.
They're quite aware of what they're going through..."
-David Bowie

Friday. Homecoming weekend.
Today's schedule was shortened to allow time for a pep rally.
As I have prep period fifth, I opted out of the loud, unpeppy session in order to finish grading papers. It is complete chaos. I close my door and ascend the stairs to retrieve my daily mail. My tick (as he is now affectionately known) caught me after the final bell and produced, "I knew you wouldn't be there."
He exited outside into the bright autumn sunlight. He was empty-handed--no book, no back pack. Earlier today he affectionately called me his "mom at school."
I sighed and continued up the steep steps into a sea of purple and white.

Classes have been intermittently satisfying, al biet challenging.
Periods two and four are classes full of beginning theatre students, made up of 33 students from all walks of life. Freshman, mostly. I am not sure whether to be outraged or flattered by the clientelle; students with major disabilities, including 2 with Tourettes, Downs Syndrome, Autism (Aspergers), severe ADHD, not to mention your usual LDs. Included in the mix are foreign exchange students from Spain, Ukraine, Venezuela, UK and Korea (she speaks NO English), along with a handful of GT students in one class. How does one accomplish her task when the levels are so dramatically different; their needs beyond what I have the ability to manage?

A new student joined our class today--6 weeks into school. This one an angry, African American woman transfer from the neighboring high school (North). I am delighted. I do what I can. No more does it bring joy as once did.

Now that the dreadful musical from hell is over, the pressure is on to select the rest of the season. Burnout contiunes to rear its ugly head and the thought of doing absolutely nothing (and announcing it to horrified thespians) brings such delight that actually following through is more than tempting.

I am currently considering John Hughes' The Breakfast Club, simply because it is a no-brainer and a big sell. I am interested in making it a multi-medium; using black and white film scenes interspersed with the sedintary libray moments. It looks good in my mind, however the execution is always where the challenge lies.

I am locked into another musical for the spring and have selected one. I am keeping it from everyone because the torture of waiting is always so much better than the pathos or hubris of knowing. I like to keep my cherubs in suspense. The sheer exhaustion that comes with mounting a production is daunting. I sit here quietly enjoying time to write; time that is my own. That will cease to be once I announce anything. I refuse to give up my radio show for work. WFHB and new music has been my safe harbor this year. The Ponys are coming in October--- and Viva Voche's "Lesson No. One" just makes me happy.

On other fronts, freedom is soon mine.
I found another apartment with 2 bedrooms in a nicer area. Living in Basswood has been humbling and often times frightening. Giving up my bed for Lilly has been a sacrifice. But the older she gets, the more important it is for her to have her own space. This new apartment will be liberating for both of us.

I am solid and balanced. I feel good.
And waking up next to me is a fucking beautiful thing.

**
One more thing:
I am angry that now blogs get SPAM (see comment below). I don't get comments usually, but when I get these ridiculous solicitations-- it reminds me that nothing is free from advertising.
Any suggestions?
Have a good weekend.

Moving Pictures Silent Films

Oh wake me please when this is over
Oh when the ice is melted away
And the hunger returns
I will feel the same but older
And I'll be twice the man that I thought I was

Where have you been?
And what have you done?

I've been under the ground
Reading prayers from this old book I found
Under the ground
Saving it up
And spending it all
On moving pictures
Silent films
Moving pictures
Silent films

Oh is this the dream I've been saving?
Oh where the heart beats slower and slower
To almost nothing
Almost nothing
Almost nothing

I took her for love or
At least something beautiful
Out there in the spotlight
But turned around softly
Turned around squinting

It's all they heard was headlights (?)
And then the truth
The truth was unbearable
Oh and iminent
Bearing down on these two shadowed animals

Caught painting a dotted line
Caught painting a dotted line

***
The past and present seem to be merging together today
and my heart and mind are not sure how to interpret.

I watched in awe this morning as a significant number of Monarch butterflies took flight--and wondered if this was an annual ritual. They flew unusually high and at first glance I thought they were bats.
But it was daylight.

I realized today that I never knew my grandparents--neither of my grandfathers (they both died when I was 2),nor do I feel that I knew my grandmothers well either.
I suppose this doesn't matter, but to me it makes solitude that much more real; blantent.

I am tired. So many changes happening to me-I just wonder why it has taken so long. I could have been living life the way it was intended had I known the things I know now. Does this make any sense?