"How do you want to motivate that in terms of speaker?"

Man, the ovester's almost over. While Paul Chapman has been lamenting AIMS because he's a teacher, and that test is really a test he takes twice-removed through his students, the same test keeps me out of schools, giving me a (semi-)break. It's, like, totally that ying-yang thing or something.

I've started swimming laps again. And by swim laps I mean try not to embarass myself in front of the unreasonable amount of attractive college gals with only one of two strings tied to their bikini top who happen to be greased down and blondie by the pool at school. I think the farmer tan and tattoos end up working against that purpose, unfortunately.

Polaroids: they're making a revival in Josephland. Onnavah is a good model, and magic hour in spring proves condusive to my schedule, so thus and thus it goes. There's some nature crap I've been taking, too, but that's because Tucson's pretty pretty. It never stops killing me how much different Tucson is from Phoenis. The cooling at night-thing that most deserts do so well is in effect here, and I can't believe how much more beautiful that makes the desert. Even when it's asphalt-hot during the day (especially in my uniform: black t-shirts--deep v-neck granted--), at night it's still jacket time. And there's something to be said for feeling hot-in-the-cowboy boots and cool wind in the hair at sunset while looking at the--whatever gay shit I was about to say...--those hot girls at the pool.

I can't wait for school to be out. I'm dying in there.