Ground Control

My dear Air Force friend called tonight. When we spoke last week he had been sharing with me all the excitement of his day at Cape Canavaral with the launch of the Columbia. He told me about how all the tight security had ensured a safe launch for the first Israeli astronaut. Naturally, I called him to see how he was handling it all.

Naturally, he's doing fine, because that's Joshua.

He was accepted into a program to earn a master's degree (no expense to him), and then serve another tour, and then become a highschool English teacher.

That's all he's ever wanted; that's what I know him as (my school-mate in the department of English), and it's killed me to see him behind a desk, in uniform, launching rockets. He's been hard-up for finding kindreds, and going to school will allow him a civilian life in an academic world again. I'm happy for him. Good man.

Last night was long. Mickey Everest, powerful cock, steamed clams, sweet meat, cheese dip, Niko, Renee, Eli, Vanessa, no Michael, bird feed, Dr. Pepper, I <3 NY...

I had to work extra this weekend.

The kids' English teacher called today to let me know J could re-take a couple quizzes and to ask me to help him. I don't like this guy (despite really liking how he teaches) and after he conceded on J's behalf with, "English is a difficult language," my reply was, "I know. After I get my PhD I'll rewrite the grammar and make your job easier." This is funny becuase he thinks his job is so much more important than mine. Confound him.

He asked me to do away with articles.

I'm trying not to think too hard about anything, but my future seems to be staring at me. I have to get some of my shit together tomorrow. So sleep now.

My mother might come visit on Thursday.