Four and Twenty Blackbirds

at least i’ve got birthday week to keep me happy

Today is my last day of being twenty-four.

I’m finding this very difficult to write. My life is changing quickly and rapidly and I don’t know what’s going to happen to me.

I started teaching yesterday. I am in charge of five teen girls. I am to teach them HTML and how to keep an online journal. They call me “Miss Pam.” I wish they wouldn’t. It makes me feel too old.

Who put me in charge of children? They started writing immediately. One did poetry, another talked about her life. One made up a life for herself. One just discussed how she felt about everyone else in the room. I can already see the next generation of diary-L.

When they were leaving yesterday, one turned to the others and said, “I’m glad we don’t have any boys in here. Girls have more fun. Girls rock.”

And that was the best part of yesterday.

Thursday night, before I got the news about Gramma, my phone rang. The caller id said it was from a pay phone.

me: hello?

boy: hey.

me: hi.

boy: what are you doing?

me: who’s this?

boy: you don’t know?

me: no, who’s this?

boy: you don’t know?

me: i think you have the wrong number.

boy: is this pamela?

me: …yeah.

boy: so what’s up?

me: what do you want?

boy: it’s me. i’m here. you don’t know who this is do you?

me: no. give me a hint.

boy: someone from work.

me: (boy i work with)?

boy: yeah.

me: you sound funny.

boy: i’m on a PAY PHONE!

me: why are you calling me?

boy: so what’s up?

me: where are you?

boy: in your pussy.


So, apparently there’s a pay phone in my special place. My friend asked if it takes exact change or if he can use his calling card. And how does he make it ring, exactly? Another asked if I got a dial-out connection with it, so I can just carry my iBook around and not worry about going online. And that I was going to have to start putting more iron in my diet. And then the cramp jokes came. Basically, it was fun for all.

No wonder I was having so many problems with AT&T.

That’s it. I’m done. I’m depressed and aging and I just want to stop time. Or speed it up. I can’t decide which. Blah.

My new Get Real should be up any minute now at mightybigtv, and last week’s statesman article got me my first hate-mail. huzzah. (I didn’t write that title)

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