It's a Great Day for Baseball


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Saturday, March 01, 2003


We sat out on the front porch and watched scraps of paper blow across the street.
The weatherman said we’d have seven mile-per-hour winds.
Weathermen stand in front of big blue screens and list off numbers.
I wonder if they know what they are doing.
Mr. Kattman’s German Shepherd ripped up the morning paper instead of returning it to his master’s hands.
His hands are tanned and leathered, as though they had seen more of the sun than the rest of him.
He normally sits down in his kitchen and reads the paper every morning, but the routine changed today.
Each scrap of ripped Times had a phrase of some lost article.
"Johnson was taken into custody at 3:27-"
"Cancer in lab rats drastically reduced from 47% to 15% in two years-"
"Dear Abby- I have a friend, we’ll call her ‘Helen’"
I wonder how long it took them to write the articles.
I wonder how long it took to produce that issue of the newspaper.
I wonder how long it took Francis to rip it to shreds.
The wind rustled the leaves of the trees and I watched handfuls of them detach from their branches and fall.
Reds, golds, browns, and purples intermingled with the pieces of newspaper and together they tumbled down the road.
I told Joann that I wanted my life to be filled with colors and words, like our street.
She flicked the smoldering ash from the end of her cigarette and told me to go to a liberal arts college.
Joann majored in biology at UCLA.
She wants to be a doctor someday.
She wants to test for cancer in lab rats.
I wonder if smoking two packs a day will ever give her cancer.
If she finds a cure, I will read about her in the Times one morning, hailing her innovation.
If she doesn’t, I’ll see her in there anyway.
It will be an obituary.
Somebody else’s dog will rip up her picture on a windy day.
I wonder if anyone will see it whirl through the air from their front porch.

by me.

Friday, February 28, 2003

My brother and his friend talking about politics.
Bro: "Dude, some of the presidents we've had are really stupid."
Friend: "Seriously, I know. Like Bill Clinton, oh my gosh he was dumb."
Bro: "Dude, he's not as dumb as George Bush!"
Friend: "Yeah, I guess, but Bill Clinton did some stupid things. He bombed Pearl Harbor, remember?"
Bro: "I thought that was in the sixties."
Friend: "Oh yeah."
Bro: "And dude, the presidents don't bomb our own places. That's the other countries."
Friend: "Whatever."
Oh, to be young again.

Thursday, February 27, 2003

Mr. Rogers died today of stomach cancer. A piece of my childhood is gone.

And there it goes...


Wednesday, February 26, 2003

Every Wednesday evening, I go to a religious education class at Corpus Christi, the Catholic church near my house. I've never been baptized or anything, so it's this class for the dumb kids who never learned anything and now they have to catch up on rougly seven years of church knowledge. We're like that bunch of orphan kids that nobody wants. I'm in a class with a bunch of middle-schoolers who talk about fat people and how cool they are. One girl, a cheerleader at Akimel, became outraged when she learned that it's a sin in our church to have sex before marriage. She spent the whole class with a dejected look on her face, and I could tell she was wondering if she picked the right religion to take up.
It's not too bad a class. It's only about an hour, and it's really easy. The volunteer teacher, while a bit aloof at times, was really nice.
So then, today, my brother got one of his infamous "giggle-fits." Every time, they start out like a normal laugh, but then he never stops for anything. And, of course, he has the freakiest hyena laugh ever. It sounds like a leprechaun on helium. Everyone else started laughing because of him, and we couldn't stop, even after teacher gave us a five minute break to "cool off." Me and the other kid my age just looked at each other and wondered if we could stop "the madness." So when we all came back in the room after the break, she asked a question. I tried to answer it even though I didn't know the answer, and some kids started laughing again. Naturally, she thought we were laughing at her, so she picked up her things and left in a huff. She told the Education Coordinator that she was never coming back.
What kind of kid can make her religious education teacher quite because she hates me?
Me, that's who.
Well, there goes my pending sainthood. I'll have to work on my baptism somewhere else.

Tuesday, February 25, 2003

And now...the Things Jaclyn Likes
1. When people say her name right.
2. Rain- as it is doing right now.
3. All American Rejects.
4. Cranberry juice.
5. The word "proboscis."
6. All of the boys she is going to marry. There's a list, you know.
7. Broadway musicals.
8. George Gershwin on rainy days.
9. Creamy chicken top ramen.
10. Nathan Lane. Always and forever.
11. Her future as a club singer, writer, artist, and stage actress in London (or New York- take your pick).
12. Gerbils (when they are hers, like Gerbilly).
13. Les Miserables.
14. Good improv days.
As well as Things Jaclyn Doesn't Like So Much
1. Breaking $20 bills.
2. How she doesn't have any $20s to break.
3. AP tests cost $80 each?
4. Awkwardness.
5. When her lunch table graphically talks about sex while she's eating.
7. Having Missy Elliot's "Work It" stuck in her head, because she doesn't know the words so all she has is like, the beat and the reverse talking in her brain.
8. The heavy metal band next door that has practice for five hours in the evening. This wouldn't be a problem if they covered more than Tesla and Linkin Park (Jaclyn does not getting the variety, either).
9. Dancing in front of masses.
10. When people talk in the third person. Jaclyn is losing it. Ahem.
11. People who say Queen wasn't a good band. I shake my fist at you, mongrels!
12. Episodes I and II.
13. When chili cheese burritos explode in your face as the bell rings. Oh, lunchtime.
14. The word "homely."
15. When people say you did fine at auditions even when you feel like you didn't. You feel all guilty and full of needless self-pity. Gross.

This completely useless post is dedicated to the band Twisted Sister. Under Dee Snider's meticulate and effective leadership, this band made it on to VH1's 100 One-Hit Wonders List, for the song, "We're Not Gonna Take It." Yes, Dee Snider is a man.

Rock on, guys.

Monday, February 24, 2003

I am starting to feel the repercussions of That Boy. The one that looked like

Ben Kweller, who happens to be onstage at the Bash on Ash at this very moment strumming his cute little eyes out.

Could Jaclyn's down and outness be the work of the similarities between Bret and Ben?

Could it be because she is missing the concert because of her parents?

Could it be because she walking sluggishly around school with a hurting tummy for seven hours?

Could it be because...she has a math test soon?

Could she just be joking and she's not really sad, but in fact fooling you all with her impeccable wit?

We'll find out at ten.

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