field notes: story of my life
I unsuccessfully tried to interview a Spanish-speaking man who lived in the apartment downstairs from another man who died in the parking lot next door after being shot in the head. (The man I was trying to talk to was just coming back with groceries and probably didn't know why the cops were there.) We could tell each other in each other's languages that we couldn't speak each other's languages, and that was about it.

In a year, if I stick with the Spanish classes, I probably can ask basic questions in Spanish (i.e., "What was the name of the guy who lived in apartment 4? How many people lived in the apartment?" and not, "So, how do you feel about the federal government's deficit? What kind of effect will it have on our economy?") So, once again, I'm a year behind what goes on in my life. Typical.

By the way, rewrite theater is below this post. Just pointing it out, so you don't miss it. TELL YOUR FRIENDS to come and play. This is very important.