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19 October 2000 Lately the journal has been suffering from lack of attention, but I think that I have a good excuse. Most of last night was consumed by my writing a short topic for class discussion. Each student has to take a turn and today was my turn. Rather then concentrating on work, I was busy trying to tell what the James Joyce character Stephen Dedalus meant to me. It seemed like a much more productive way to spend my time. Thankfully the network behaved nicely for me. After I got done with the paper, there wasn't much left in me to do other writing, no matter how simple it might be. ... White vapor trails in the sky. Crumpled leaves on the sidewalk. Thinking maybe I should have changed into shorts for the afternoon. I love these walks. They give me time to think. Alone with my thoughts as I make my way toward class. No distractions. No worries. I need to get outside more often than I do. So much of my life is spent shuttling to and from work in my car. Of course this doesn't make me that much different from the rest of society. ... Students sitting on the grass with drawing boards on their laps. Conte crayons in hand. Smudging and erasing. That was me years ago. I did that exact same thing. Beth and her friend were sitting next to me, but I wanted a better vantage point so I moved. I needed to be higher so that I could see the whole sundial on the ground. The concrete rays would add more movement to the drawing. It would be more dynamic. All of that seems so far away now. ... In front of the building I see a fellow classmate. We acknowledge one another and I ask if he had gone to see the movie at the professor's house last week. He had. There were about seven people there. Then the discussion turns to Hemingway. It seems that he has an exam on his short stories later in the afternoon. Among the stories Indian Camp is mentioned and I think of the time that I wanted to be Nick Adams. Even now Big Two-Hearted River still gets to me. Peaceful. Reflective. Familiar. Two girls from class approach. He starts to talk with one of them and the other sits down next to me, almost on my leg in fact. She is close, very close and I wonder why. I know her name, but we have never spoken to each other before. This is the first time and she launches into her drunk story. It seems that she had been out drinking last night until six this morning. Hungover is the key word in her life at the moment. I nod and laugh a little. I ask what was the cause for such an event. She lights a cigarette and tells me that her friend from Florida had come into town for the first time in five years. I say that that is reason enough. By this time she is lighting a second cigarette. They seem to be going down fairly smooth. Marlboro will be happy. She lifts her oil tinted glasses from her eyes and continues with her story. I get a close look at her face. Usually in class she has a tendency to let her hair hang down in front of it, Ally Sheedy Breakfast Club style. I like her smile, but her eyes seem tired because of the drinking. She didn't go to her early class. It just wasn't going to happen. She doesn't want to go to this one. I tease her and say that she has to go because I am going to be giving a presentation. Good she says and goes on to say that I should talk as much as possible. She almost got into a fight with this punker guy at a party. Even though he was taller than her she was ready to take him. He was such a prick. All men are pricks with the exception of me she quickly adds placing her hand on my arm. I asked if he was a full blown lost in time with a mohawk punker. No. No. He's thirty-one and already done that phase years ago. Now it's just the leather jacket with the skull on back and some chains. Another cigarette is lit somewhere in here. She gave him her number anyway. I said that it must have been all of the sexual tension between them. Yes. Yes, that's it, tension she replies. Somehow the topic of her family and the restaurant that they own comes into the conversation. She hates working for them, but she needs the money. So I gather that there is no desire on your part to take over the business. Oh, no, she says. Never. Her sister feels the same way. Her brother has severe A.D.D. so that eliminates him completely. The other two people head inside and we follow. ... Amazing. Simply amazing. Within the span of a ten minute conversation, I learned more about her than I ever thought that I would. I now know her age, what she thinks of her parents, where she likes to drink and what she thinks of the state of Wisconsin in general. I really loved the energy coming from her though. I'm curious to see what she'll have to say next week if anything to me.
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