Forgive me if you’re seeing this twice, but given how FB’s stupid algorithm makes sure that no one sees everything it seemed best to put it in more than one place: I accepted a FR from a guy named John Johnson yesterday or the day before because I generally accept them from anybody on Luther’s account– if I don’t recognize the person, I assume they’ve read a book or met me at a con, where I hand out bookmarks with my FB page on them.
Well, one way or another this dude appears to have gone through my entire friends list and sent friend requests to everyone. Initially I thought it was just the women but that appears to not be the case. I looked at his account and he literally had no friends who were not connected to me. I have unfriended and blocked his account, and am currently playing the but why? game.
You may recall I’m working on getting a classroom set up, what with how I haven’t shut up about it for days. What I haven’t mentioned is that I’ve had a couple of Indiana University flags hanging up in virtually every classroom I’ve ever had that had the wall space for them, and I have been tearing the house apart over the last several days trying to figure out where the hell I put them after I closed down my last classroom. There was no way I would ever have thrown them away, and I realized this afternoon that there were certain other objects missing as well– most notably, my collection of Hulk toys, mostly gifts from students– that I similarly would never have gotten rid of.
They had to be in the basement. They had to be. There were other boxes of school shit down there; why wouldn’t the flags be down there somewhere? But both my wife and I had already gone through the basement. Independently. And found nothing.
Our basement is a fucking mess, y’all.
Now, in this picture, you need to ignore the fact that one of the flags in question is on top of the pile, but note that that cardboard box is open. And the reason the flag is on top of the pile of stuff there but with nothing underneath it dislodged is that the motherfucking thing was in plain goddamn sight the entire time, on top of everything in that cardboard box. And yet, somehow, two adults who were looking for red flags didn’t see it.
Trash bags full of undonated baby clothes removed, we see … part of a roll of paper towels, for some reason, part of a car seat, and … wait, what’s that?
If anyone has advice on how to get wrinkles out of a polyester flag, they’d be appreciated. And look! Underneath the flag!
My Hulk toys. My Hulk mugs. My binary clock. My Easy Button. My Skull of An Unnamed Former Student. All the shit that I knew goddamn well I didn’t throw away.
For once, something– a minor something, mind you, but something— has gone right.