Erica and Shane no longer engaged, or together. N's mother killed herself. S said she liked my poem. News flashes to self from my brief but intense day among the crazies.

Apparently, "good" and "bad" are the same word in Hebrew. I didn't know this. I'll check.

This place, again and again, reminds me of Hebrew school. Today we read in the seminar on Moby Dick. Marilynne Robinson is like a latter day William James. Totally brilliant and curmudgeon, with a severe side part and long shoulder length staight hair, greying in partds, wears a white collared shirt and a mens' black jacket, no makeup. I still haven't read her book, I keep giving it away. She's really great. The boys in class sit there, arms crossed, like they won't crack, but they're all there. People have to cram in chairs stolen from other classrooms. The women, or at least the assholes like me and G, we giggle a lot. She's hilarious and witty.

Thing is, it's so weird to be the only real Jew in an academic setting where everyone seems to want to be Jewish. A friend of mine from high school is always telling me how he is so interested in Judiasm. It's the writers, the artists, I dunno, the suicidal freaks who like black pussy and write about morality and death blaabla whatever. But it's weird. And I have nothing intelligent to say. Fuck, I can't remember most of it. Often I feel like the biggest failure. Compared to all these talkers, critics, readers, writers, everyone has an opinion, everyone has somehting to say, and in this setting, right now, yes I have opinions, most of the time I'd rather not share them, most of the time I feel rather dull.

I just read everyone's worksheets, pumped up from my short day, and unwilling to devote my evening to my students, and my class's work is entirely brainy, the only good stuff is G's, the boys are egomaniacs, so arrogant and flip. Mine's the least learned, the most literal.

Erica, again, seems to have written about me:

could i have had what i wanted
if i had said it out loud?

even G thinks so. she also used a lot of the same words i used in my poem last week. weird. kind of annoying., i wish i could disappear. i wish i didn't have so much responsibility over this one girl. it's so obvious. it's like everyone's watching.

believe believe believe. idem orare.

the little random creatures