Good Morning

Good morning. It's Sunday and I have a busy day ahead of me. I've already washed the dishes and did all the email from last night. I plan on finding pictures and reels that I can put on this blog to show everyone what my family looks like. You know, put a face to the name. I have to take Scott to the hospital today - it's his long day and we will be there for hours! If I had a laptop I could work while waiting. eBay is doing just horrible these past couple of weeks. I think the change in weather has people not shopping. So, I need to get different items up.

Thursday I got another client and he gave me a bunch of pharmaceutical equipment to sell. Stuff like test tubes and beakers for labs. I hope it brings in something. It works like this: The client gives me the items to sell. I put them up on eBay with pictures and descriptions. Every item I list cost a certain amount to list and then if it sells I get charged a percentage fee on top of that. If it doesn't sell, it takes a loss. The average cost of a listing is .35 to 2.00. Once the item sells, I deduct the costs from the final value. The profit is then split in two. 50% for the client and 50% for me. It is as fair as can be since I am doing all the work. I also have to go to the post office everyday to ship the items out. I made one person a good bunch of money on music Cd's by selling them for just over 3.00 each. It all adds up in the end. Anyway, I have eBay to work on today too.

My Life: Ah, the teenage years. Ninth grade rolled around and busing went into effect that year. The just built high school (still smelled new) I had gone to in the 8th grade was no longer going to be my school even though it was less then 5 miles from my home. I was going to be bussed downtown to Carver Middle School. Yes, it was an all black neighborhood and very poor area of town. Although I knew black people I really hadn't been exposed to a bunch of them at one time. My parents were very angry about busing. My step-dad was quite racist when he was young and wouldn't allow black kids on his lawn. He's definitely changed over the years. Within the first month of being in this new school, there was a walkout (protest) by the students. I was one of the first ones to walk out too. I proudly sat in the schoolyard while the newspaper photographers took our names and pictures for the paper. The main reason I did protest was I hated the distance the school was from home and missed being at the new school. I didn't understand why it was so important for people of color to interact more and that it had to be forced on us. Looking back, I still think it was a stupid idea the politicians came up with. The 9th grade changed me so much because of this law.

I hated the school with a passion. I skipped classes all the time. Some days I would get off the bus and just go to the stores downtown. A bunch of friends ad I would go have hot chocolate and then go to the train exhibits and sleep in the trains. We would find wooded areas and just hang out and get stoned. Anything to not have to be at that school. I actually went to math class maybe 3 times the whole year.

French class was another story. The teacher was some prissy man who was very nellie. Another new exposure for me. He would flutter up and down the aisles in the classroom. I found it to be disgusting even though deep down in my heart I knew I was attracted to men. He was not a man. Anyway, one day someone passed gas and blamed it on me. The teacher grabbed a can of Lysol and started to spray my pants. I was enraged and grabbed the can from him and threw it across the room. I walked out and never went back.

I failed miserably that year. Straight F's except one D my first semester. It barely got any better and I did have to go to summer school to pass the 9th grade. This year had so many events that I will have to break it up in my blog.

So, I will stop for now and get some work done. I know some of you are going through some rough times too and I will be happy to listen if you need an ear to chew on. That's what friends are for.

Love & Peace
Clayton