So I've been around for a while now, at home, after a blustery-cold day that was not very notable during school hours, though afterwards I did a run around the various Greenpoint branches across Manhattan, but failed to locate one that was open, which I blame on not having internet access to do research, as the new-fangled network at school means I don't have a connection from my classroom for now. But I think I did manage to activate my other ATM card, which means that I have at least groceries. It looks like Chinese tonight for dinner. And of course, on the way home, there were subway delays involving fat people getting wedged in doors and trains not appearing--there were more Q's and R's than at the platform than during the sixth week of math camp....

So I meant for tonight be a relaxing, lazy night, but I find myself bored. I guess there's dinner and TV and sleep: but no--instead I should pick up a pencil and start doodling again--it's been too long, and I can't give up on the comics so easily.

Meanwhile, in that dread extra instructional period today, I had only two students, and so I decided to close the doors and ignore the utter chaos outside. And so we talked about language acquisition, American foreign policy in Africa since Monroe, the subjunctive mood and comparative conjugation, old-ocracy and other forms of authority, and whether or not there are any undiscovered desert islands I knew about ripe for colonization. This was all rather better than being asked during lunch whether or not I'm a white man.

I replied. "Of course not. I'm Mongoloid."