confirmation of crazy

I feel I’ll forever be surrounded by strange/crazy people. And for the most part, I search out strangeness in my friends, but I like people who are randomly strange as in they blurt out strange things at strange times. To me, that’s funny. But there’s an assistant in my class who is beyond strange. Perhaps deranged? She’s the enforcer in my class. The kids listen to her because they pick up on the deranged factor. That’s my theory anyways. If they drop their ferfer, look out. It’s the death glare followed by ramblings in Amharic threatening to cut of their ears.

Today was the parent/teacher conferences. (Side note: very interesting that only the parents of the smarter kids come.) I spent three hours with said deranged assistant interspersed by visiting parents (thank god for distractions). I feared how much she might reveal when she told me the following…

At a former school, there was a little girl about 4 years old who used to kiss a boy in her class. On his penis. The boy complained he didn’t want to go to school because of this girl and his penis was ‘dirty’ somehow so his parents were worried. The girl also used to put her hand down her pants, then smell her fingers (something freakily akin to Mary Katherine Gallagher I guess). I attempted to explain that this little girl was probably being abused and had learned this from a grownup in some inappropriate way. The girl wasn’t even in her class but this assistant had actually seen the girl put her hand down her pants and was just really disturbed by her behaviour. As a result, the assistant used to have dreams about the girl and in her somewhat halting English, told me that one time she woke up from sleeping with her own hand down her pants. Of course, she went straight to a priest. From what I know, they’re good at dealing with all matters sexual. The priest told her the girl was dark inside and to do some holy water chanting/screaming ritual thing.

And at that point, I figured it was time to go home.

The nazi librarian (who has yet another new hairdo) and I seem to have come to an unspoken truce. I asked to borrow her scissors. She said yes. It’s been smooth library excursions ever since.

I have daydreams of having a whole day where I tell people exactly what I think at the exact moment I think it. The concept seems frighteningly freeing.