Jen

This morning I swear to god that I saw my 7th grade math teacher, Mr.Thompson, on the L. He was a lot older, but he looked like and wore the same clothes as Mr. Thompson. So, I’m sitting there, and I’m staring at this guy because he looks so familiar and then I catch sight of his belt and I can’t take my eyes off it.* It’s because it’s the crazy Mr.Thompson belt. He always used to wear these cloth/canvas like belts that are striped with different colors, with leather near the buckle. No one else wears this belt, and that kind of retro suit. Anyway, I wanted to say something, but it’s a little odd and awkward going up to a stranger and saying, “Are you Mr.Thompson? Remember me? You used to have me in your advanced math class in 7th grade, oh about 10 years ago. Remember me?”

Speaking of math teachers, Yoga rocked.** I found myself with unbelievable amounts of energy last night when I got home.

This morning I had to phone Italy and confirm Bill’s reservations. I felt like a complete ass, because as soon as the person picked up and started speaking Italian, I said, ”Does anyone speak English over there?” Umm, do you think that they would understand that if they didn’t speak English? Probably not. Besides, it’s an asshole question - I’m calling their country, I should have made the effort. It would closely resemble “Como Estai” and “Ciao.” At least I’d be trying.


*I know this sounds unbelievable sexual. There is absolutely nothing sexual about Mr.Thompson. He used to intimidate the hell out of me when I was younger. He also looks like Egon from Ghostbusters.
**Crazy Mary, our yoga instructor, is the daughter of Becky’s high school math teacher, remember?