It's kind of weird to me how the greens and browns of the tree-leaves and their respective trunks looked so vibrant yesterday, and today they are dull. I guess when the sky is blue (and it is so blue out here) it makes such a beautiful backdrop for everything else.

I have to leave in a minute to volunteer at Lyric's school. I go to this place, completely mis-named the "Quiet Center." It's the group of metal picnic tables at the far end of the huge blacktop area where the kids have recess. There is a big shed filled with craft supplies: yarn, popsicle sticks, stickers, paper, markers and glue... and there are board games and legos and sidewalk chalk. And I am there to hand out the supplies. The bell rings, signaling that it's recess time, and I brace myself. Within seconds, it is like being surrounded by a horde of starving pirrahnas.. they descend upon me, they grab and gobble up all the supplies quickly --while shouting and demanding all at the same time-- and then leave me a shred of the volunteer I once was.

When the bell rings, the kids have to run back up to class, and I am left in the war-torn aftermath of glue-puddles with popsicle sticks floating in them, a million lego pieces scattered and under the tables, dried up capless markers, crayon remains, and knotted up yarn and scraps of cut up paper blowing in the Santa Ana winds.

It is my job to make sure the kids leave right away when the bell rings and get back to class. One afternoon, the bell rang and everyone listened to me and left...except this one little pint-sized Gilbert Gottfried-lookin' kid. I said, "Hey, little buddy, it's time to go up to class now or you'll get in trouble."

The kid looked at me and said, "But first I need you to cut me some more yarn!"

I said, "I can't do that, because it wouldn't be fair to all of those other kids who wanted yarn after the bell rang. So, bye-bye! See you tomorrow! Hurry to class, bud!"

He didn't move, "But I NEED YOU TO CUT ME THE YARN!!!" he yelled.

I said, "Well, you see, I can't do that now. You have to get back to class.."

He cut me off. He put his hands over his ears and screamed, "STOP TALKING TO ME AND JUST CUT ME THE YARN!!"

I was so shocked by the blatant disrespect of this kid, that I stood there gaping for a minute. I didn't know whether to laugh or start crying. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh, little buddy, you can't talk to me that way." I was so mad, but I was talking in a too-sweet voice, and so unfortunately I'm pretty sure it ended up sounding very creepy.

He looked up at me and said, "I'm sorry." I was really proud of him for saying he was sorry, (but mostly, I just wanted him to leave me alone) so I cut him a piece of yarn and sent him on his way. If that would have been one of my children talking to me that way, there's no way they would have seen yarn for at least a week. But I figured, I'm just a volunteer. I signed up to pass out gluesticks and pipecleaners. I can't turn this kid around in a day. Poor little guy.

Now it's actually 11 pm (I've been trying to finish this all afternoon.) Jason and his film school friends (who are some of the kindest people I have met--anywhere) are in the other room watching The Exorcist for an assignment. I cannot look at it. But I keep hearing screams and weird gutteral gurglings through the wall. I went outside because I was going to try to throw something at the window they are all sitting next to, so I could scare the crap out of them. They are all funny people, so it would have been a real hoot, I tell ya. But because of the way our house is built, I couldn't reach the window...

Going to bed now...