Tuesday, April 27, 2004

This building is basically like the old type of theater-- ie, not a multiplex or whatever. But each theater, each room with the seats and the projector, is particularly small. I am part of a large extended family that has come here, where there is some kind of weird, multi-generational new age school. There are some people attending the class I am in that aren't a part of my extended family, and I know some of them. Geoff Langham and his girlfriend are sitting in the second row.

Changing classes is a huge to-do for the family. All kinds of yokel distant aunts and uncles have to get all their little rugrats' toys and backpacks and put some stuff back into their cars and change some of the little kids' clothes and between every class this happens, and as such, the whole family comes through the door, loud and late, to every lesson.

I have decided to stop being embarassed by this and just enjoy it for the chaotic spectacle that it is. Some distant yokel uncle asks me to carry these two baby dolls that have backpack-type straps on them. I do. I also have a long white goatee for some reason-- blindingly white, and down to the middle of my chest. I put the baby-backpacks on over one shoulder, like cool kids in middle school, one and then the other beside it, and it looks like I have two babies clutching my upper bicep to hang on. Some of the relatives are watching me walk jauntily, pretending to whistle, away from the parking lot (which is indoors) towards the next class and I can hear them voicing disgust and/or concern because they think its somebody's ACTUAL, living babies which are perched precariously on my left shoulder. This is even weirder because one of the baby dolls has big white wings on it.