sending big noah off to new york for a week, to be with his aunt margot, take in the sights, hear some music. he's ready. being fifteen, hanging around home being surly and monopolizing the computer has grown old. he's actually pleasant, but has lost enthusiasm for much in the world except a certain video game and a certain girl in st. louis. who knows. maybe new york will turn up some surprises.

truck is in danger; its brakes gave out, and we are actually considering just living without it. simplify. the only problem is, it represents a deep kind of out there spirit that i'd have trouble letting go of. it's kind of a turtlish, shell on its back kind of homely 60's thing, but it doesn't stop these days. that's not good for inspiring confidence, that and driving around on no sleep.

the pressure is on, with many many writing students, many many essays (many of which will appear on students' weblogs, on the left of this class weblog)...much much slogging, bad, bad grammar, and i'm kind of interested in a couple of tendencies, one of which is to plagiarize in many interesting ways, which you will read about i'm sure if you stay up on the work side of my weblogs. but the other is what i call, any port in a spell-check storm. this refers to the tendency of students to make a stab at a word like 'sibling' and have spell-check change it into a similar but very different word like "sapling"...not once but many times. in-between variants (sabling, sipling) don't make it because they aren't words. i could call this weblog out their.

it's not funny. i'm exhausted. time for bed. in the morning i'll drag myself out of bed, start all over again, read essays on things like scotland and japan's population crises, and think, that's ironic...wasn't it my own ancestors, who were forced out of scotland, back when it was too crowded, a few hundred years back. run out of there, sent over to northern ireland, then run out of there too to the hills of western pennsylvania- these were wallaces, proud scots. would be embarrassed to find that today scots won't even vote for their own independence, or rather, maybe there aren't enough of them. who knows. i'm generations away from the situation now, and the closest i'll get, is a paper that says, basically, get everyone to have more kids. it's all a matter of perspective, i guess. which, after so many papers, i'm afraid i've begun to lose. sorry about lack-of-sentence. off to bed.