Here's a hint: it's not about abortion.

OK. I subbed a sweet little computer class today which means the 11th/12th graders didn't do shit but look stuff up on the internet. What did I do? I announced the folllowing: "What you're supposed to be doing is" blah blah blah. I also read more than half of Hemingway's The Garden of Eden. Good? Vintage Hemingway, whatever that means to you. To me, that means short stabbing sentences, subtext all over, and it lulls you into a complete giving over of yourself to the characters. Is he brilliant? No. Is he a genius? Yes. Do I love him so far? He'll make me.

This, by the way, is my first Hemingway novel ever read by me, and I love everything about it, except that it's (of course) posthumous. Shit. And to answer you're question, how do you know what "vintage Hemingway" is when this is your first novel? Dude, you need to shut your lips and learn: ever since "The Hills Are Like White Elephants" I get it. Duh.

How 'bout rowdy ESL kids who can't shut up? I did not like today until I came home from Wilmington Middle School. No lesson plan, kids that couldn't even shut up to play freaking Hangman. No learning occurred today, except that I learned my Spanish sucks, and I need more gigs.

When I did get home, though, I ate, slept, shat, and practiced. Yep. That's right, practiced bass in the music room. I worked on Dolphin Dance and Out Of Nowhere. Ain't that a kick in the head?

I do have some pictures to work on and upload. Maybe I'll do that now...

...here's what happened this week at the house:

Guest bathroom before. See the hammer? It's excited.

Guest bathroom after my pops and I got through with it. See the tub? It's not the same one. Brand new tub. Good news: we have a brand new tub. Bad news, it's cast iron and weighs fourteen tons. I'll buy a beer for anyone who can tell me how two people fit that in there without cutting, trimming, or busting holes in walls. 60" of space, 60'' tub.

Our fantastic original hardwood floor. That's felt backing to the linoleum I ripped up.

After sanding. Wanna see what they look like finished? Come over.

And that's the dang deal. It's almost time for Jeopardy! and way past time for booze. Wish my lovely fiancé good health: she's not feeling well. Nighty night, kiddies.