Johns Hopkins University has been selected as the external partner to manage the March next year. Their task is to pull it out of its downward spiral. Today we were swarmed by observers from JHU who took notes and did inventories of equipment. They were trying to inventory my laptop and printer and LCD projector and my bookcases. I said "Excuse me, but I purhcased those things. They belong to me. I am taking them with me when I leave."
A new young man joined my homeroom and first period class. He is a smart-mouthed punk with no regard whatsoever for any authority outside the Bloods. He reminds me of kids at the Book. I don't need any more jerks transferring in, but kids who are put out of other schools all year end up at the March, just as all kinds of nasty sluice ends up in the killing floor grate. Mmmm, scrapple.
I am dead-dog beat, but instead of chilling to start the weekend I'm preparing to host four Taikoza drummers for the weekend. And, tonight Move Like Seamus is playing at Mick O'Shea's. No rest until 3am! Or Brooklyn, or something.