::fragments::

I was a teacher. I'd been given two classes and one other kind of session. One of my classes was some kind of math; the other was sex ed. I didn't realize that one of my classes was 9:30 at night and then 9:30 the next morning, so the next morning at 9:42 or so, I realized while looking through my papers that I was late. The kids were probably sitting there misbehaving. They were boys and girls, maybe in the eighth or ninth grade, and some of the boys reminded me of boys I'd worked with in juvenile detention centers.

When I taught the kids at night, they were out of control and I frequently had to raise my voice and direct them to do and be certain ways appropriate to the class. I kept thinking about how I should have started the class with some rules about appropriate behavior, but now I would have to wait until the second class.

July 13

Michelle S. had emphysema. I saw my mother’s garage filled with Michelle’s Crate & Barrel boxes. Jennifer G. and I were going to go out back to smoke pot, even while my mother and father were in the house.

July 14

My mother had pulled all the furniture away from the walls and was cleaning and vacuuming. I was going around town, inviting people to a party at my mother’s house. I went to pick up my thesis paper and saw Becca B. sitting in the passenger seat of a car and I handed her a flyer for the party. I looked at the writing at the end of my thesis, from my advisors. They had formatting comments.

The party was that night, a Wednesday, and I knew we’d be smoking pot there.

July 16

M. called me on her birthday and told me she was treating a couple; she was their therapist. She went on and on and I had to interrupt her at least three times—I said, I have to go. I can’t talk right now. I have guests. She finally heard me and sounded hurt. I pointed out that I’d said several times I couldn’t talk to her.

I was walking through a long, drawn out thrift store that SL managed, and I was following her down the main pathway through the store. She suddenly didn’t look like SL anymore, and as I was following her, I started feeling taller, more sinewy and muscled, and my shoes made a clacking sound on the floor like I was wearing my cowboy boots. I was surprised to see her the way I was seeing her because she was looking very different than how I know her.

July 17

I pulled up on my bike in front of Otto’s to get some napkins. I had no bike lock and the streets were full of drunk people. I saw Teresa and others inside Otto’s, dancing. I asked someone to go in and get me a napkin and she did. I was wearing my lavender skirt, a sleeveless cotton shirt and my arms were thinner and more toned. I got back on my bike and a young guy was trying to give me directions. He was very confused and told me the wrong information, but I was trying to be polite and listen, until I had to correct him. I began riding away towards the eastside. It was like more people were in town than usual. I passed women who looked disheveled, drunk, headed to where I had just come from.

July 18

My father and I were moving in together into a two room apartment. He was messy and almost immediately left a mess and then went to his wife’s house.

Later, me and Stephen were moving into my mother’s house. I was moving stuff around in my old bedroom and eyeing a bookcase in the t.v. room. I was thinking we’d make the t.v. room into our bedroom until I realized we could have my father’s old bedroom. I went to talk to my mother in the living room. I asked her about the room and told her that now that we were moving in, she could not sleep on the couch in the living room anymore. I pictured her moving the couch into her bedroom to sleep there. I was excited by the idea of Stephen and I having the big back bedroom.

July 19

I had a baby boy, maybe six months old. We were at the hospital and I was picking him up from there. He was cute, squirmy, looked like me, and wore a one-piece set of pajamas. I was laying next to him, cuddling him and looking into his eyes. I was bringing him home.

There was also a cat I was taking care of.

I was with SL at a hotel, and I was playing coy, pretending to be asleep on a bed, waiting for her to come to me. She did, and then I softly resisted her, still acting coy.

When I had the baby, I was coming out the hospital with some problem: I was hunched over, had stitches in my stomach.

July 20

I saw M.’s wedding invitation. She had gotten married on her birthday, to Matt.

I was in a guy’s comic book shop, and he was standing behind the counter. He was someone I vaguely knew. There were people going in and out, talking to him. I had to pee, so I sat down in a plastic chair. For some reason, I thought it was a toilet, but I couldn’t believe it was out in the middle of the store. Still, it was too late. I was wearing my light blue Catholic school skirt, and I was trying to be nonchalant. I was having a hard time and the paper got stuck to me and I had to stand and pull it away from me. When I was done, I realized it was only a chair, and it was wet and so was my skirt and underpants. I went to the counter after awhile and was about to shamefully apologize—but the guy interrupted and showed me how sometimes when he worked on an illustration, he made it too big. He showed me a big comic book-like color illustration of large hammerhead sharks. I understand he was cutting me off, didn’t want to hear my apology. He was trying to keep me from feeling humiliation and also showing me that he made mistakes, too, and he was okay with mine.

I wandered to the front of the store where there were a bunch of kids playing on the floor with electronic toys. I was trying to figure out what to do, secretly trying to take off my wet underpants and assess how wet my skirt was. I wondered if I could call Stephen to come pick me up. People just kept coming in and out of the shop. Finally I got up and realized there was a whole back end to the store, and it opened out to a mall. Of course there was a bathroom there, so I followed the women I saw to it, relieved. One woman assumed I was letting her in front of me in line. I was annoyed, but let her cut in front of me anyway.

July 21

I was at a swap meet and I saw a video of some people putting Pat on skates when he jokingly tried to walk away with an electric ball of light behind his head because he was wearing a Yoda outfit. They were ice skates, and he went flying down the asphalt and people pushed him so that he was falling, careening dangerously. Once people knew what had happened, everyone was outraged that someone had tried to harm Pat and the group wanted blood. A bunch of people went looking for the perpetrators. I was in my mother’s backyard sobbing. Someone asked me if they’d found the body. I cried and said, Don’t call him that. He used to be my boyfriend! I found Chris and asked him to call Pat’s parents. We were standing by my mother’s brick wall. Someone else was going to try to email Pat but I couldn’t read the email address on their phone.

July 22

Ron and I were at Disneyland-that-wasn’t-Disneyland. He was running ahead of me to get on a ride. I wanted to go on it—it was an underground log ride. We went down an escalator and there were all the twists and turns of the roped line, all underground.

I also saw SH and talked to her a bit.

July 23

I was getting married to Fran and I came across her showing her bouquet to people. The bouquet was a color photocopy, or newsprint, of a bouquet of flowers.

Tara was moving to Ohio to get married. She figured she's also find a knee doctor or reference librarian whose kid she and her partner could take on. She told me that A.S. was pregnant. I looked at J.'s blog but they hadn't been posting.