Friday: I Feel Sublime!

Friday, no matter where you are in the Western world, is a goddamn blessing. The only other thing I know to be a true blessing is, Shimmy. I always try and tell him, "Simmy, what a fucking blessing you are. Thank you, Simmy." Friday is like a Shimmy sort of day. I am pretty sure Shimmy is loving his Fridays in Oregon. He wrote me not too long ago about the subtle strokes required to milk an utter--it was not an update on his sex life--it was a literal account of life on the farm.

Anywho, my classroom is getting there. I am definitely going into work tomorrow. I want things to be rad on the first day. I got to finish writing out my cool quotes on posters, the vocabulary for the walls. I tried to get my Obama poster and some rock concert posters laminated today, but I had to goto another copy center, and well I had already walked around for an hour with the dogs, and it was Friday, so I said, "tomorrow!"

Yesterday, I caught a cab home with Sarah as I always do. At 3pm Olie, her son, turns into a little bit of a terror--a cute little terror, but a terror none the less. In any event, he was pulling on me and Bella, and then he tripped, and then he hit his nose, and then he had a sweet bloody Hitler stash. I got hysterical looking at this little cherub licking his bloody upper lip singing, "It tastes good! It tastes good!"

I think this week has been a goddamn freaking talk-a-thon. So many meetings. This morning was two hours of windbags belaboring points and picking their butts. While the administrators try and navigate egos, the teachers snicker and hiss like a group of coked out Catholic School girls. I sat quietly, and noticed the slight dusting of dandruff across my shoulders. I attempted to swipe it off by mocking a personal shoulder rub. Who knows if anyone cared, but it gave me something to do while the beat pressed on.

Lunch was a local specialty, Chiles en Nogada. Basically you score a pepper stuffed with sweetened ground beef and topped with a creamy nut sauce, which is garnished with cilantro and pomegranite. It was quite tasty, a little too sweet to make it a weekly favorite, but it is seasonal for Independence Day (notice the colors), so it won't be around long. Note: This is not the Chile en Nogada that I ate. Mine cost $50 pesos and came on a faded orange plate that was scratched to shit with years of service.

I left school today with Kenneth. Kenneth needed help putting his bicleta back together after shipping it here. I brought my tools and helped him out. I didn't do much, I just popped the back wheel on, adjusted the brakes and derailers. His rear wheel is sort of wobbly, but I didn't bring it up. He will figure that out over time. I left Kenneth, who I believe had a stroke at some point, for half of his body is a little limp, and headed home. I waited for the right cab. I feel I have a sixth sense for picking the right cab. I hopped in, and the gentleman was bumpng Michael Jackson. His cab was covered in CD's and I knew it was his personal music, but I asked him in Spanish none the less. We sturck up a conversation and began talking bands. I played a little harmonica. He likes Los Credence a.k.a Creedence Clearwater Revival, Led Zepplin, The Bee-Gees, Stevie Wonder, and Pink Floyd. Basically, musically speaking, I found my soulmate. We rocked out to MJ for the rest of the ride and then I headed home.

Tonight, is the big Happy Hour shindig. I neglected happy hour for a walk and photocopy hunting. I stopped in Jardin Del Arte and ran into Fernando. I met him the other day, he has a pure bread Belgian Shephard. He is an economist. He has been to San Francisco and Santa Cruz. He speaks English, but he lets me speak shitty Spanish. He lives in the neighborhood. I was stoked to let the dogs off in the park. I realize now, that they won't run into the streets, there is too much cool shit in the park to sniff. Flow definitely ate something unedible and began vomiting, but she recovered immediately.

Blah blah blah, I am getting ready to take a shower and get up out of here. My mentor, The Bermanator, is having a party at her crib. So I shall hop a cab soon enough, and be into the night.

Tommorrow, I will take the dogs to UNAM with Siri and plan crap for school. Then I will go to school and fucking make a half day of work.


Here is a sick picture of the pups courtesy of The Beast herself, Marissa Gorlick: