As many of you know, I have been reassigned due to my blogging and exposing the day in and day out hypocrisy of the NYCDOE. I believe that this has been part of a vast conspiracy with my principal, Dr Alison Coviello; PhD and Principal at the center of the conspiracy. I don;t have any concrete evidence, but I believe that God shine a path to the truth.

Since September 3, 2013, I have been jailed at 4360 Broadway, Children's First Network 403 as my jailers. Today was the darkest day yet.

For two months I have been "stored" in the cafeteria on the 5th floor of 4360 Broadway. Yes, a cafeteria. Here is proof (over there on the left). See, it says cafeteria, but for some reason local custom (I am still studying these people) it is called a "conference room." But it does not look like any conference room I have ever seen (up above). In fact, this cafeteria/conference room is so special it has a copying machine that runs full throttle throughout the day and I get to suck in the fumes.
 But all is not that bad. It could be worse. For instance, I have an activity to do in the cafeteria/conference room. Count the dead ants on the sticky paper and count the ants going into the ant trap.


 



 But the best part is I made two new friends today. They decided to pose for a photo (look to the left). The little fella who on his back with his legs sticking up I am going to name him George. I will hug him and pet him and squeeze him and pat him and pet him and rub him and caress him.


 I do not like it in the cafeteria/conference room. Aside from the filth, there is no real place to keep my device plugged in, people are coming and going. The HUGE conference room down the hall which hosts PD brings hordes of people into the cafeteria/conference room at lunch time. I have zero privacy and in the words of George Carlin, no place for my stuff. In fact, a book I was reading, Lincoln's Men was swiped from the cafeteria/conference room yesterday. Worse, is that I had about 30 pages to go.

So I really don't like it up there. I prefer the break room, (which I was told it is not even though that is where the vending machines are) on the 4th floor by the security desk and elevator. I have a bit more privacy and it is more comfortable. Their reasoning, "we have been told we must 'supervise' you." This directive coming from Tweed. Though others RR's on 4th floor allowed free reign. Supervise? What am I 12 years old? I am not supervised! No one EVER comes to see how I am doing or if I am breathing. If they cared so much about their supervisory duties then why am I allowed to be subject to copier fumes and ant and roach doody?

But they say that the cafeteria/conference room is the best they can do since they have no room for me and "nothing for you to do."

But people whine and complain. Boo-hoo. So word gets back to my jailers which brings me to today.

I thought today was going to be the end. I had no access to the outside world. My phone was on the fritz and when I asked one of my captors for permission to use the CFN 403 phone, I was told emphatically, "NO!"

 I am not even allowed to use computers. I've been told that the times I have that when someone's else has gone on the computers are slow ROAD APPLES I say! IE is slow and people too stupid to realize it and use Chrome or Firefox.Me signing on to a computer in no way slows down a computer.

I've been harangued for walking into what I had thought a closet, which turned out to be another photocopier room looking for an outlet for my phone.

I have been told in no uncertain terms that I am not allowed to leave the cafeteria/conference room. I can't even eat lunch in the 4th floor break room (even though they say no one ever eats there I do see ¡mucho arroz con frijoles!).

I must ask permission to goo pee pee or doody. I must ask permission to use a vending machine.

This is being done to break me and not to infect others. Such as the way Portelos is isolated and Christine Rubino is isolated. We, and all the others, are political prisoners.

Twenty days (Instructional days) so far. One hundred and sixty days to go. At least for this year.

They really spread out the teachers who are in the Rubber Room. No more mass warehousing them,
like 100 to a room. Why let anyone talk to one another and give each other ideas.

That's why I am all alone at 4360 Broadway between 186th St and 187 St in Manhattan. I am the only one there. I could have been sent to Zerega Ave, but no, they claim there is no room there. I call bullocks.

I am all alone. No one to commiserate with, no one to eat lunch with. I do have the Daily News and the Post and becoming quite adept at Wonderword. Thankfully, I have a great book, "Team of Rivals" to read.

My belt and my shoe laces have yet to be confiscated. I feel as if I am a political prisoner. A prisoner in solitary confinement. A prisoner of conscience.

Death is all around me today. As I left PS 48 for lunch a sparrow had flown headfirst into a window. The poor little bugger didn't stand a chance. His neck snapped and he plummeted to the Earth. There he was, on his back, feet up, dead. Does this fate await me by the NYCDOE? Must I have my wife start the car up in the morning?

Today I decided to create my own friends. I looked around and found two dolls, a toy table and toy tea cups and a pot and set up a tea party with my new friends who are pictured above.

On the left is Mrs Nussbaum, and on the right is Mrs McGillicudy. They are my new friends.

Today we had several discussion between sips of tea.

Our first discussion was who did we think was the better captain. Kirk or Picard? I argued for Kirk. He was tougher, more of a man's man, and really knew how to land a punch. Mrs McGillicuddy agreed with me, but she said that, "Kirk is sweeter on the eyes than Picard."

Mrs Nussbaum was upset with me that I did not include Captain Janeway, "Why couldn;t a woman have been included?" she asked. She was right, a woman should have been included. Even though I never cared for Janeway.

We also discussed how it took three characters in Star Trek: The Next Generation to replace Mr Spock. Seriously, think about it. Commander Riker, Lt Data, and Troi (I never cared for Troi. I always found her annoying and pretentious). I don't want to get too deep into this subject, but looking forward to comments about why it took three characters to replace Spock. Mrs Nussbaum and Mrs McGillicuddy are looking forward to the comments as well. Though Mrs Nussbaum added that Worf was an extension of Spock as well for he was an alien. I countered that Troi was an alien too. Half Betazoid and half Human.

One thing the three of us agreed on is our hatred of Wesley Crusher. We all felt that he was a loathsome, whiny, ass kissing little ****. He served no purpose on the Enterprise and Captain Picard should have left him to rot on Farpoint when he had the chance. Mrs Nussbaum had both Mrs McGillicuddy and myself in stitches when she shared this YouTube video she created of Wesley's "unfortunate" death.


One can only wish.

It's late now and it is time to go to bed. I hope that Mrs Nussbaum and Mrs McGillicuddy aren't staying up too late. I am excited to see them in the morning. Tomorrow's discussion topic will be, how come Gilligan never met with an unfortunate accident?