b minus three

The countdown is almost over. I miss you-know-who so much. It's surprising how much my happiness depends on being tickled, teased, and otherwise tortured for several hours out of each day. Life without him is dull indeed. No wet willies or Indian burns? No giggling, curly head peeking around a corner as I try to use the remote control whose batteries have been removed? Finding my journal in the same place every day instead of hidden in the trash? As Stephanie and I like to say, What's the point?

I have been drowning my loneliness in True Hollywood Stories (the best one so far is "The Price is Right") and home makeover shows. My mom and I are now addicted to "Brat Camp," which I am writing off as research for the teaching job I am both counting on and dreading. School starts on Friday, and I still don't know if I have a job. Everyone here is sure I will get one, and it's not uncommon for new teachers to be hired the day before school starts, or even after that. I should be scared, but will choose my typical response, denial and avoidance.

Actual things that have happened:
1. last night, had dinner at the home of Kona's old gossip columnist, the one responsible for "Taka," then played Scrabble with her daughter, a champion tournament player who got over 500 points.
2. today, went to a church picnic with my mom at an estate that once belonged to the Beach Boys.
3. talked to Benito, who has unloaded the cursed U-Haul and is now Oakland-ing it up with his friend, Jon, who drove out with him. From what I could hear during our conversations on the road trip, they are basically acting like third graders, which seems to happen whenever they're together. Well, sometimes they act like seventh graders.

As for the job situation, I am ensnared in the labyrinthine bureaucracy that is the Department of Education. I am terrified that I will be offered a job this week. What will I teach? I don't know how! More important, what will I wear?