Obviously it was bad karma to post about how I like my homeschooling student . . . today I discovered that the little shit tried to cheat on his last vocabulary test by hiding word lists in the bathroom! You open the cabinet looking for toilet paper, and then, hey what's this? And then your heart sinks . . . For a second I considered not saying anything, just going to the hobbit (my boss) with it, but then I transcended my nonconfrontational personality and told the little fuck-up that he was caught, and how disappointed I was in him. I was proud of that.
Now I have to go do a presentation. Last night new friend Emily (#4 in my phone, breaking the time-honored 3-major-Emily limit) and I went to a sold out reading at Richard Hugo house, a local poetry center--we couldn't get in and spent most of the event having a beer in a nearby bar, but then we snuck in for the end. It was three poets and Sherman Alexie talking about rhyme . . . entertaining, but it didn't make a formalist of me.
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