mirrors in space

[muni seats with some strange measurement thing underneath which is a crazy mystery.]

[the ghost neighbor kids jumping roping. i asked if i could take their picture but i still can’t decide if it was a creepy thing to do.]

tomorrow i am going to talk for 5 minutes about the tone in a sherman alexie story for my teaching creative writing class. i’m a little terrified about the whole thing because of one horrible class presentation i gave on “a perfect day for banana fish” back when i was a sophomore at lewis & clark. it was so bad that i am not the only one who remembers how bad it was. it was so bad that i refused to speak to people in the class or look them in the eyes for about a year. it involved me, the front of the classroom and about 3 solid minutes of silence. i don’t want to exaggerate the number. 3 minutes is enough of standing in front of a group of people and realizing you have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. i wanted to cry or leave. my teacher gave me a c and that was a pity grade. i may have written about this before because it was that traumatizing.

anyway, i’m taking notes for this deal tomorrow. the class is only 7 people big. hopefully things go better.

in my raymond carver class today this mildly irritating girl who dresses like a professional and obviously wants to live in new york city said something and i whispered to the guy next to me, “i don’t like that girl” before i could censor myself. i barely know the guy. i’m in grad school, not 3rd grade. i couldn’t stop thinking about it the whole class. what if she heard me? will i ever grow up? will i ever realize that deirdre is not in any of my classes anymore?

speaking of which (classes with deirdre), one of my teachers from lc who promised to send me a project i did for him after he graded it is avoiding me. well, he’s been avoiding me for like a year and a half. he won’t respond to my emails asking about the project (a really sweet book i made that took insane amounts of time) and the last time i saw him he wouldn’t look at me and he sort of ran away. it’s weird. i figure he lost the book. but i wish he’d at least tell me. it can’t be worse than when mr. borgen’s cats peed on the best story i ever wrote back in 4th grade. nothing is that bad. i am thinking about calling him. i don’t know. i don’t know why i am writing about it. it’s just one of those things that don’t seem like they actually should happen. it’s one of those things that makes me wonder if i have a mental disease, like i am hyper paranoid and need medication. i know the guy isn’t out to get me; he’s just really strange. and i don’t think he likes me. he accused me of lying one time in class which was another time when i wondered if i was totally losing it. like, WAS i lying? because what college professor accuses you of lying in front of the class if you are completely innocent? that’s something that would happen in a conservative school house in avonlea. it was too strange. after class i was so upset that one of the girls in my class offered me a xanax. later he apologized when he realized i wasn’t lying. but now he is avoiding me. maybe i’ll call him. though i can’t see that ending nicely. maybe i should just consider it a loss. like that elizabeth bishop poem. maybe it is good to lose things that are too important to you. maybe.

whatever. this new semester i am too busy to watch the daily show at night. or not too busy, too tired. so i am watching it now and letting my brain think about tone in “what you pawn i will redeem” without me.

you should listen to le show. there some interesting things this week about mirrors in space.

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