Sunday morning. I feel like I have been up all day, but we’re still an hour and a half from noon. I’m slightly wired. I’ve already cut the grass, which needed to be cut due to this week’s prodigious rains, but the wet ground meant I ran over the grass more than actually cut the grass. I also wanted to scramble some eggs, but we’re out, so I settled for some unhealthy quesadillas. I’m slowly getting healthier, I think, but I’m remaining careful to avoid trying to become healthy at all once. I’ve tried that strategy before, and it hasn’t worked.

The frantic pre-semester meeting week has passed. I survived with wits intact. In fact, I did a little dance in the hallway Friday because I didn’t have to work on Saturday, traditionally the action research introduction day. Thursday’s all day meetings were ok, I guess, although I think the orientation and initial coursework for the incoming freshman were organized and executed badly. The powers that be wanted me to administer a standardized test on my first fucking day of class. How stupid. I had to lean on the students a bit to remain quiet during the stupid fucking test, but I suppose I now have the behavioral context set for the students still learning how to act like college students.

I fell asleep early Friday night, by eight, and slept until seven Saturday morning. Yesterday T celebrated his birthday with a slew of his friends. I’ll post some pics/Youtube files later. The kids were good, although more than energetic, and M did a good job of providing about half a million water balloons for their entertainment. I met the father of the only kid in the school with a Mohawk. He (the dad) has a shaved head, a colored (white) goatee, and tattoos up and down his arms. We talked about punk rock, etc., and shared some discs. He seems like a nice guy. He also has balls of steel. I can’t imagine how many weird looks he gets in this town. By the way, M nailed his son with a water balloon during the festivities, giving him a fat lip. She’s dangerous!

After the party I walked downtown to check out this new age festival in the park along the lake. Most of the booths were spiritual gemstones or whatever. I found the presence of a Pampered Chef tent, between the drum circle and am aural photography tent, amusing. Those Pampered Chef people are everywhere. I considered buying a singing bowl, but they cost upwards of seventy-five bucks, without the little hammer, so I passed. The singing bowl place was based in Beaver Dam, Wisconsin, too. I’ve been through Beaver Dam. I don’t imagine the singing bowl market is huge in that town. I hope they do net orders. The walk through town was pleasant, though. The rain stopped falling Friday afternoon, and by Saturday morning the sun returned. The feeling of emerging from a dream stuck with me all day, sort of like the first thirty seconds of Eels “The Medication is Wearing Off.”

After I returned home I cleaned, read, and took a bath with William Gibson’s “Spook Country”. The boys played with T’s new toys, esp. some “Heroscape” additions. Two thirteen year old babysitters arrived at 5PM. M and I ate mediocre Mexican food in Brown Deer. We hit Toys R Us, and, brace yourself, bought a couple Christmas presents for N. Their clearance sale, probably designed to empty the shelves for the holiday season, was in full force, and we picked up a couple of cool Matchbox sets. Bow to our astute Christmas present purchasing habits. After Toys R Us we hit Borders, where I bought David Foster Wallace’s “Consider the Lobster” for the plane ride to Italy. Of course, I started reading as soon as I arrived home. After Borders we hit Bayshore, where M bought some clothes at J. Jill. We drove through town a bit before returning home. I dropped off the babysitters. M was pissed because the babysitters “cleaned”, or at least they tried to clean, but the house was already pretty well organized, and the babysitters did little but fuck things up. For example, M had bags ready for the kids’ first day of school, and the babysitters wrenched them under the chairs on the front porch. What the fuck? Also, while the babysitters cleaned the kids watched television. Bad form.

Ok, I’m still wired. Maybe I’ll take out the bike, although I kind of feel like I need some rest. Wired but tired. I don’t like this feeling. More later