Hey LPD,
I'm not texting and driving, I'm BLOGGING!
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
Monday, March 08, 2010
two goals
I've decided to streamline my blog and focus on a smaller list of subjects. They are, in order of time-consumption:
1. Teaching
2. Cooking
3. Social exploits
4. Green Cleaning/Writing my thesis
Also I'm going to try to post more often. If past endeavors are any indication, you can expect progress on these goals to be sustained for a maximum of one week. Then, who knows, I'll probably go another two years without typing things. But at least I have a plan.
1. Teaching
2. Cooking
3. Social exploits
4. Green Cleaning/Writing my thesis
Also I'm going to try to post more often. If past endeavors are any indication, you can expect progress on these goals to be sustained for a maximum of one week. Then, who knows, I'll probably go another two years without typing things. But at least I have a plan.
building a better teacher
This article is amazing and it makes me want to be a better teacher. For a long time I have believed this, from the beginning of the article:
"...successful teaching depends in part on a certain inimitable “voodoo.” You either have it or you don’t. “I think that there is an innate drive or innate ability for teaching,” Sylvia Gist, the dean of the college of education at Chicago State University..."
I have been traveling again for the past few days because of MCAS retesting in the library, where my class"room" is located. The other day I was wandering around during my prep period and saw a teacher as young and almost as inexperienced as I am, teaching chemistry to a class of 10th graders who were, to my amazement, LISTENING. This has happened on a handful of occasions in my classes, usually when half the kids are out sick and it's the day before the final exam. It depressed the crap out of me that I rarely command that kind of attention, respect, obedience, etc.
Then I was sitting and correcting papers in a quiet room where I could hear the class next door, freshmen in a language class. The teacher is way more experienced than I am, but her class sounded like a complete disaster. The kids were joking, yelling and audibly running around while she tried for over ten minutes to get through one simple concept that should have taken two minutes. Finally she lost her patience and started yelling, which I do far too often. The kids settled down momentarily but were back out of control in a few minutes. This also depressed me, because it made me think I could do this for 20 more years and still have the same issues.
So I often think the only explanation is that there must be some kind of teaching gene. There are some teachers that simply hypnotize the kids, while others spend most of any given class telling kids to sit down, stop talking, etc. Most days I fall into the latter category. It's soul-crushing, and I feel an incredible guilt towards the good kids who sit there and try to learn something despite the chaos surrounding them.
I thought I'd enjoy teaching Spanish because I enjoyed learning Spanish. I didn't anticipate that so little of my time would be spent teaching because so much time is spent on classroom management. It's definitely a science, and I'm always trying new methods that I've read about or heard from other teachers. Some days I feel like I'm getting better, but it only takes one bad interaction to make me feel like I'll just never succeed.
A lot of times I feel that if I were in a different district my life as a teacher would be much easier. The kids at my school bring a lot of baggage with them that we often can't even imagine, and it definitely influences their behavior. I think it might be more pleasant to teach at a school where the students have more "positive" adult role models at home. But I also have this masochistic drive to stay at this school until I can't go on one more day.
So I read the crap out of this article and the Taxonomy it talks about. The taxonomy is a list of "specific and concrete actions" that separate the hypnotist teachers from the shrieky ones like me. One action shown in the first video was a teacher making a "hands down" motion with her hands. The kids stopped writhing for a minute, and she taught them something. Magic! I tried it today, and I am shocked to report that it actually worked. This is only after I removed two very disruptive kids from the class and threatened a third with a visit to the dean, but still, a tiny success.
Well it's only Monday, so by tomorrow I may be right back to hating teenagers with a burning passion. But I'm going to try my best to maintain this positive attitude for a few more days and see if I can improve my hypnotist/shrieky ratio.
"...successful teaching depends in part on a certain inimitable “voodoo.” You either have it or you don’t. “I think that there is an innate drive or innate ability for teaching,” Sylvia Gist, the dean of the college of education at Chicago State University..."
I have been traveling again for the past few days because of MCAS retesting in the library, where my class"room" is located. The other day I was wandering around during my prep period and saw a teacher as young and almost as inexperienced as I am, teaching chemistry to a class of 10th graders who were, to my amazement, LISTENING. This has happened on a handful of occasions in my classes, usually when half the kids are out sick and it's the day before the final exam. It depressed the crap out of me that I rarely command that kind of attention, respect, obedience, etc.
Then I was sitting and correcting papers in a quiet room where I could hear the class next door, freshmen in a language class. The teacher is way more experienced than I am, but her class sounded like a complete disaster. The kids were joking, yelling and audibly running around while she tried for over ten minutes to get through one simple concept that should have taken two minutes. Finally she lost her patience and started yelling, which I do far too often. The kids settled down momentarily but were back out of control in a few minutes. This also depressed me, because it made me think I could do this for 20 more years and still have the same issues.
So I often think the only explanation is that there must be some kind of teaching gene. There are some teachers that simply hypnotize the kids, while others spend most of any given class telling kids to sit down, stop talking, etc. Most days I fall into the latter category. It's soul-crushing, and I feel an incredible guilt towards the good kids who sit there and try to learn something despite the chaos surrounding them.
I thought I'd enjoy teaching Spanish because I enjoyed learning Spanish. I didn't anticipate that so little of my time would be spent teaching because so much time is spent on classroom management. It's definitely a science, and I'm always trying new methods that I've read about or heard from other teachers. Some days I feel like I'm getting better, but it only takes one bad interaction to make me feel like I'll just never succeed.
A lot of times I feel that if I were in a different district my life as a teacher would be much easier. The kids at my school bring a lot of baggage with them that we often can't even imagine, and it definitely influences their behavior. I think it might be more pleasant to teach at a school where the students have more "positive" adult role models at home. But I also have this masochistic drive to stay at this school until I can't go on one more day.
So I read the crap out of this article and the Taxonomy it talks about. The taxonomy is a list of "specific and concrete actions" that separate the hypnotist teachers from the shrieky ones like me. One action shown in the first video was a teacher making a "hands down" motion with her hands. The kids stopped writhing for a minute, and she taught them something. Magic! I tried it today, and I am shocked to report that it actually worked. This is only after I removed two very disruptive kids from the class and threatened a third with a visit to the dean, but still, a tiny success.
Well it's only Monday, so by tomorrow I may be right back to hating teenagers with a burning passion. But I'm going to try my best to maintain this positive attitude for a few more days and see if I can improve my hypnotist/shrieky ratio.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
questions for anyone who will answer
After almost two long years, I have internet access at home. During the time I was internet-free, I would often have to tell people stuff like "Don't email me about important and/or time-sensitive stuff because I don't have the internet at home" and most would stare at me incredulously as if I said I didn't have indoor plumbing. I honestly didn't think it was that unusual - an inconvenience, to be sure, but I never thought it made me a complete and total weirdo.
Is it completely ridiculous to go that long without the internet? Am I basically the only person in the country (barring babies, the very poor, and Amish) who would, mainly out of laziness, go that long without the internet at home?
Next... I was thinking about trying to blog more often. I "think about" trying to do a lot of things more often. These are mostly things I almost NEVER do, like exercising, eating healthy food, working on my thesis, or washing my kitchen floor. As a chronic procrastinator I'm really skilled at coming up with bulletproof reasons not to do stuff, and my potential reason not to write blog posts would be I'm not sure if it's still a relevant medium now that Twitter exists. But I have to say, due to my long absence from the internet I'm not too familiar with Twitter, beyond hearing (on the radio, of course) about how popular it is. So internet friends, do people even read blogs anymore?
Is it completely ridiculous to go that long without the internet? Am I basically the only person in the country (barring babies, the very poor, and Amish) who would, mainly out of laziness, go that long without the internet at home?
Next... I was thinking about trying to blog more often. I "think about" trying to do a lot of things more often. These are mostly things I almost NEVER do, like exercising, eating healthy food, working on my thesis, or washing my kitchen floor. As a chronic procrastinator I'm really skilled at coming up with bulletproof reasons not to do stuff, and my potential reason not to write blog posts would be I'm not sure if it's still a relevant medium now that Twitter exists. But I have to say, due to my long absence from the internet I'm not too familiar with Twitter, beyond hearing (on the radio, of course) about how popular it is. So internet friends, do people even read blogs anymore?
Monday, June 29, 2009
open letter to roo roo
Amanda's recent post about not being able to write immediately made me think of this meme that I found a long time ago. In May 2008 I started writing this post about not being able to write, and intended to answer all the questions in the meme to get my creative writing juices flowing. And then I never did. Aaaanyways, now I'm posting it without my answers to my good buddy Roo Roo. May my failure as a writer inspire the crap out of you, or somebody. Or nobody. As we say in France, disfruta:
In the interest of "writing" I have spent the past hour at work not working, but rather wandering the internet looking for writing tips. I came across some interesting writing exercises that are supposed to cure writer's block. I guess the idea is similar to warm-up exercises in sports or drawing or music - like playing the scales or stretching the muscles. Some people say the hardest part of writing is coming up with a topic (which is what these exercises address).
I believe the hardest part is starting to write. I guess the exercises also help the writer start to write, because writing about some random topic that doesn't really matter to you is way easier than writing about something you find important. I always feel like the reason I can't write is the fear that I might mess it up. It's easy enough to go back and edit something you've already started, but the thought of starting is sometimes too...weighty, or something.
Anyhow, here's the single solitary writing exercise I found that isn't meant for writers of fiction:
1. Do you outline?
2. Do you write straight through a book, or do you sometimes tackle the chapters out of order?
3. Do you know how a book is going to end when you start it?
4. Where do you write?
5. What do you do when you get writer's block?
6. What size increments do you write in (either in terms of wordcount, or as a percentage of the book as a whole)?
7. How many different drafts did you write for your last project?
8. Do you let anyone read your book while you're working on it, or do you wait until you've completed a draft before letting someone else see it?
9. What do you do to celebrate when you finish a draft?
10. One project at a time, or multiple projects at once?
11. Do your books grow or shrink in revision?
12. Do you have any writing or critique partners?
13. Do you prefer drafting or revising?
14. What are your favorite writing books?
15. Morning writer, evening writer, or doesn't matter?
16. How do you handle reviews?
17. How do you handle rejection?
18. Do you prefer to work on writing by yourself? Or do you prefer collaborating?
19. Able to work on airplanes?
20. Have you ever abandoned a book or an article that you had finished? When? Why?
21. What writing advice do you really believe in?
In the interest of "writing" I have spent the past hour at work not working, but rather wandering the internet looking for writing tips. I came across some interesting writing exercises that are supposed to cure writer's block. I guess the idea is similar to warm-up exercises in sports or drawing or music - like playing the scales or stretching the muscles. Some people say the hardest part of writing is coming up with a topic (which is what these exercises address).
I believe the hardest part is starting to write. I guess the exercises also help the writer start to write, because writing about some random topic that doesn't really matter to you is way easier than writing about something you find important. I always feel like the reason I can't write is the fear that I might mess it up. It's easy enough to go back and edit something you've already started, but the thought of starting is sometimes too...weighty, or something.
Anyhow, here's the single solitary writing exercise I found that isn't meant for writers of fiction:
1. Do you outline?
2. Do you write straight through a book, or do you sometimes tackle the chapters out of order?
3. Do you know how a book is going to end when you start it?
4. Where do you write?
5. What do you do when you get writer's block?
6. What size increments do you write in (either in terms of wordcount, or as a percentage of the book as a whole)?
7. How many different drafts did you write for your last project?
8. Do you let anyone read your book while you're working on it, or do you wait until you've completed a draft before letting someone else see it?
9. What do you do to celebrate when you finish a draft?
10. One project at a time, or multiple projects at once?
11. Do your books grow or shrink in revision?
12. Do you have any writing or critique partners?
13. Do you prefer drafting or revising?
14. What are your favorite writing books?
15. Morning writer, evening writer, or doesn't matter?
16. How do you handle reviews?
17. How do you handle rejection?
18. Do you prefer to work on writing by yourself? Or do you prefer collaborating?
19. Able to work on airplanes?
20. Have you ever abandoned a book or an article that you had finished? When? Why?
21. What writing advice do you really believe in?
Friday, June 26, 2009
jingle lyrics contest
I am offering a handsome reward of $10 to anyone who can fill in the blank below. I've already tried to google it with no success. You'd probably have to be a serious Cape Cod radio listener to even know this song, the ubiquitous Zooquarium jingle that plays every 15 minutes from April to Septmeber. Enjoy:
(to the tune of ren and stimpy's "Log" song)
what are we gonna do today?
there's the beach or miniature golf to play
or we could go to the mall (NO!)
are you ready to say
let's all go to the zoo
we can have some fun while we learn about culture
just watch out for the ____ and the turkey vultures!
zooquarium
zooquarium
it just might be more fun than the beach
or anything else
it just might be more fun than the beach
and PS: Zooquarium is nowhere near as much fun as the beach (or anything else)
(to the tune of ren and stimpy's "Log" song)
what are we gonna do today?
there's the beach or miniature golf to play
or we could go to the mall (NO!)
are you ready to say
let's all go to the zoo
we can have some fun while we learn about culture
just watch out for the ____ and the turkey vultures!
zooquarium
zooquarium
it just might be more fun than the beach
or anything else
it just might be more fun than the beach
and PS: Zooquarium is nowhere near as much fun as the beach (or anything else)
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
ode to my ex-roommate
To celebrate the return of my blog I'm posting this, which I wrote exactly one year ago and never finished. It is a top ten list with only 7 items. Enjoy:
today I am celebrating my independence from the worst roommate who ever lived. she is moving out as we speak, probably destroying a good amount of my property in the process. but that's nothing new. to commemorate her last day of ruining my life I have created a very special top ten list.
Top Ten reasons why K---- SUCKS ASS
10. Inability to take care of her poor, long-suffering cat.
9. Destroyed the persian rug my grandmother gave me by spilling a pint of buffalo sauce on it and denied knowing anything about it, even as I picked the empty buffalo sauce bottle lying a few inches between the food she had just eaten and the rug, and politely inquired "Could this have anything to do with it?" Maintained she had no idea how it happened but offered to wash the [HAND-KNOTTED PERSIAN] rug in the WASHING MACHINE.
8. Upon moving in, brought ten or twelve trash bags full of clothes. Proceeded to wash every single item of clothing in our washing machine, using my laundry detergent. When I politely informed her the detergent belonged to me, she claimed ignorance, then said "I thought we shared stuff like that." I said, "It's not sharing if I don't know about it, and it's not sharing if I'm the only one who buys the laundry detergent. and fabric softener. and dish soap. and sponges. and paper towels and toilet paper. and aluminum foil, saran wrap, and wax paper. and salt, pepper, and spices. and milk and butter. and ketchup and mustard and mayonnaise. and soda and juice and beer and wine and wine glasses you break and and wine openers you bend because you're 20 and you don't know how to open that $8 gallon of merlot you stupid f-ing bitch."
7. After using up my detergent to wash ten trash bags full of ugly, skanky clothes apparently chosen to showcase her pasty and disgusting buttcrack, stuffed the empty trash bags IN THE TRASH. Then when we ran out of trash bags, continued to pile trash on top of the overstuffed trash can until it spilled onto the floor. When I returned from a long weekend and noticed that my kitchen resembled a landfill, I politely inquired, "Did you buy more trash bags?" She claimed poverty and unemployment and promised: "I'll call my mom tomorrow and see if she'll buy me some trash bags."
6. Used her poverty as an excuse for everything, but never thought it was quite serious enough to get an f-ing JOB. Meanwhile, claimed "I've been really busy" every time I asked her why she had (e.g.) not washed her dishes for two weeks, not fed her cat for three days, etc. Apparently it's pretty stressful to sit on the couch for 40 hours a week, watching Ellen DeGeneres specials and/or entire seasons of Nip Tuck while eating takeout and making obnoxious screechy noises.
5. Despite my pleas, compulsively invited friends over to dye their hair in my bathtub, using up all my aluminum foil and ruining three different shower curtains as well as the kitchen table my parents had given me just a few months ago. Regarding the shower curtains, she said "I've been told that nail polish remover will get it out. I have the whole week off so I can definitely take care of it." Apparently that week turned out to be "really busy," between watching TV, eating boxed foods, and generally being a complete f-ing idiot. I guess I should just be glad she didn't get around to burning a hole in the shower curtain with acetone.
My parents gave me the kitchen table that had been in our house since I was born. It is a fine piece of furniture, and unable to let anything nice go un-ruined, she got blue hair dye all over the table. To fix it, she also suggested acetone. I basically flipped out at that suggestion, so she decided that she would drive up to Home Depot and buy supplies to sand the dye off the table and REFINISH IT HERSELF. I politely declined her offer. OK, I wasn't polite at all. In fact, I think I may have done permanent damage to my vocal cords that day.
4. Lies compulsively and without shame. Had a massive party on a Tuesday without telling me or the landlords. I found out only because her friend tracked me down at school and said "Did you know K---- invited 150 people to come over tonight?" When I asked her she said she only invited five people and they must have spread the word. I told her I can't wait to "spread the word" to the cops that there are 150 underage drinkers in the house. Then I LOUDLY packed up everything in the liquor cabinet, LOUDLY put a lock on my bedroom door, and left.
today I am celebrating my independence from the worst roommate who ever lived. she is moving out as we speak, probably destroying a good amount of my property in the process. but that's nothing new. to commemorate her last day of ruining my life I have created a very special top ten list.
Top Ten reasons why K---- SUCKS ASS
10. Inability to take care of her poor, long-suffering cat.
9. Destroyed the persian rug my grandmother gave me by spilling a pint of buffalo sauce on it and denied knowing anything about it, even as I picked the empty buffalo sauce bottle lying a few inches between the food she had just eaten and the rug, and politely inquired "Could this have anything to do with it?" Maintained she had no idea how it happened but offered to wash the [HAND-KNOTTED PERSIAN] rug in the WASHING MACHINE.
8. Upon moving in, brought ten or twelve trash bags full of clothes. Proceeded to wash every single item of clothing in our washing machine, using my laundry detergent. When I politely informed her the detergent belonged to me, she claimed ignorance, then said "I thought we shared stuff like that." I said, "It's not sharing if I don't know about it, and it's not sharing if I'm the only one who buys the laundry detergent. and fabric softener. and dish soap. and sponges. and paper towels and toilet paper. and aluminum foil, saran wrap, and wax paper. and salt, pepper, and spices. and milk and butter. and ketchup and mustard and mayonnaise. and soda and juice and beer and wine and wine glasses you break and and wine openers you bend because you're 20 and you don't know how to open that $8 gallon of merlot you stupid f-ing bitch."
7. After using up my detergent to wash ten trash bags full of ugly, skanky clothes apparently chosen to showcase her pasty and disgusting buttcrack, stuffed the empty trash bags IN THE TRASH. Then when we ran out of trash bags, continued to pile trash on top of the overstuffed trash can until it spilled onto the floor. When I returned from a long weekend and noticed that my kitchen resembled a landfill, I politely inquired, "Did you buy more trash bags?" She claimed poverty and unemployment and promised: "I'll call my mom tomorrow and see if she'll buy me some trash bags."
6. Used her poverty as an excuse for everything, but never thought it was quite serious enough to get an f-ing JOB. Meanwhile, claimed "I've been really busy" every time I asked her why she had (e.g.) not washed her dishes for two weeks, not fed her cat for three days, etc. Apparently it's pretty stressful to sit on the couch for 40 hours a week, watching Ellen DeGeneres specials and/or entire seasons of Nip Tuck while eating takeout and making obnoxious screechy noises.
5. Despite my pleas, compulsively invited friends over to dye their hair in my bathtub, using up all my aluminum foil and ruining three different shower curtains as well as the kitchen table my parents had given me just a few months ago. Regarding the shower curtains, she said "I've been told that nail polish remover will get it out. I have the whole week off so I can definitely take care of it." Apparently that week turned out to be "really busy," between watching TV, eating boxed foods, and generally being a complete f-ing idiot. I guess I should just be glad she didn't get around to burning a hole in the shower curtain with acetone.
My parents gave me the kitchen table that had been in our house since I was born. It is a fine piece of furniture, and unable to let anything nice go un-ruined, she got blue hair dye all over the table. To fix it, she also suggested acetone. I basically flipped out at that suggestion, so she decided that she would drive up to Home Depot and buy supplies to sand the dye off the table and REFINISH IT HERSELF. I politely declined her offer. OK, I wasn't polite at all. In fact, I think I may have done permanent damage to my vocal cords that day.
4. Lies compulsively and without shame. Had a massive party on a Tuesday without telling me or the landlords. I found out only because her friend tracked me down at school and said "Did you know K---- invited 150 people to come over tonight?" When I asked her she said she only invited five people and they must have spread the word. I told her I can't wait to "spread the word" to the cops that there are 150 underage drinkers in the house. Then I LOUDLY packed up everything in the liquor cabinet, LOUDLY put a lock on my bedroom door, and left.
despues de la escuela
I just read my last blog post and laughed out loud at myself. It was like reading the words of someone describing having bamboo shoved under their pinky fingernail. That sucked, I hope it's over now. But just wait, friend, you have 9 more fingernails. And 8 of them are bigger than the pinky.
I get the same feeling when I look at my work ID card. The picture was taken the day before school started, when it was just the teachers in the building for orientation. My face is tanned and kind of plump looking, healthy... like the innocent, unsuspecting face of someone on You Can't Do That On Television... someone who is about to have a bucket of slime poured on their head.
Long story short, I had no idea what was about to happen to me. I read that post and thought, on any given day of this school year, a kid asking to take his shirt off would have been among the more "normal" things that happened that day. In fact, most days I'd be lucky if the kid, especially after gym class, even asked to take his shirt off (or walked in with it on in the first place.)
I have been screamed at, sworn at, berated, insulted and generally harassed by teenagers every single day this year. Some of the adults are not much better. I've been overwhelmed by traveling to different classrooms, unsure of my ability to do the job at all, and broken down in tears countless times, to other teachers and even in the classroom. My face looks gray and sunken compared to that ID photo. And somehow, on the last day of exams, when they all finally left and it was just the teachers again, I started to cry. You may be noticing a trend... It's true, all I did this year was f-ing cry. I'm not proud of myself.
I don't even know where I would begin writing about all the crazy stuff that has happened to me, and I'm sure it would be boring to anyone who isn't a high school teacher. (One thing I've learned is that school stories are interesting only to other "school people." I would like to thank all the non-school people who listened to my stories anyways and feigned varying degrees of interest.) So anyways, I'm not going to get into all that, I just want to say:
I get the same feeling when I look at my work ID card. The picture was taken the day before school started, when it was just the teachers in the building for orientation. My face is tanned and kind of plump looking, healthy... like the innocent, unsuspecting face of someone on You Can't Do That On Television... someone who is about to have a bucket of slime poured on their head.
Long story short, I had no idea what was about to happen to me. I read that post and thought, on any given day of this school year, a kid asking to take his shirt off would have been among the more "normal" things that happened that day. In fact, most days I'd be lucky if the kid, especially after gym class, even asked to take his shirt off (or walked in with it on in the first place.)
I have been screamed at, sworn at, berated, insulted and generally harassed by teenagers every single day this year. Some of the adults are not much better. I've been overwhelmed by traveling to different classrooms, unsure of my ability to do the job at all, and broken down in tears countless times, to other teachers and even in the classroom. My face looks gray and sunken compared to that ID photo. And somehow, on the last day of exams, when they all finally left and it was just the teachers again, I started to cry. You may be noticing a trend... It's true, all I did this year was f-ing cry. I'm not proud of myself.
I don't even know where I would begin writing about all the crazy stuff that has happened to me, and I'm sure it would be boring to anyone who isn't a high school teacher. (One thing I've learned is that school stories are interesting only to other "school people." I would like to thank all the non-school people who listened to my stories anyways and feigned varying degrees of interest.) So anyways, I'm not going to get into all that, I just want to say:
- I'm alive
- I'm glad it's over
- I'm really sorry I have been ignoring everyone's phone calls and emails for the past 10 months, and
- I'm now available to hang out, anywhere and any time (Sundays through Thursdays and weekends after work)! As the kids say, get at me.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
fyi
I am alive. Mostly.
I am now a teacher, a shaper of young minds and whatnot. I have never worked this hard in my life.
I want to keep up with blogging because a lot of fascinating things happen to me on a day to day basis, but I barely have time to brush my teeth anymore. When I'm not teaching, I'm thinking about teaching or planning what I'll teach the next day, or the next class, or the next minute. And when I'm not doing that I'm going to department meetings or meeting with my kids' SPED liaisons to figure out how I can simultaneously teach 15 different classes. And when I'm not doing that I'm trying to find things to wear to school that are appropriate yet not so lame that the kids will make fun of me. And when I'm not doing that I'm spending trillions of dollars on school supplies. And when I'm not doing that I'm spending trillions of dollars on my car. And when all that is done, I'm left with about 4 hours every day, during which I sleep like I have never slept before.
But here are a few choice tidbits to tide you over until I can sit down and write for a while:
Me: Please take out your books and turn to page 10.
Student: Yo miss, why do we have to do this?
Me: Because that's where the lesson is.
Student: Fuck this, yo.
Me: Please take out your books and turn to page 10.
Student: Yo miss, it's hot in here. Can I take my shirt off?
Me: Please take out your books and turn to page 10.
Student: I don't have my book.
Me: Where is it?
Student: Why are you always up in my FACE, yo?
Me: Please take out your books and turn to page 10.
Student: Yo miss, didn't you wear that shirt last week?
I am now a teacher, a shaper of young minds and whatnot. I have never worked this hard in my life.
I want to keep up with blogging because a lot of fascinating things happen to me on a day to day basis, but I barely have time to brush my teeth anymore. When I'm not teaching, I'm thinking about teaching or planning what I'll teach the next day, or the next class, or the next minute. And when I'm not doing that I'm going to department meetings or meeting with my kids' SPED liaisons to figure out how I can simultaneously teach 15 different classes. And when I'm not doing that I'm trying to find things to wear to school that are appropriate yet not so lame that the kids will make fun of me. And when I'm not doing that I'm spending trillions of dollars on school supplies. And when I'm not doing that I'm spending trillions of dollars on my car. And when all that is done, I'm left with about 4 hours every day, during which I sleep like I have never slept before.
But here are a few choice tidbits to tide you over until I can sit down and write for a while:
Me: Please take out your books and turn to page 10.
Student: Yo miss, why do we have to do this?
Me: Because that's where the lesson is.
Student: Fuck this, yo.
Me: Please take out your books and turn to page 10.
Student: Yo miss, it's hot in here. Can I take my shirt off?
Me: Please take out your books and turn to page 10.
Student: I don't have my book.
Me: Where is it?
Student: Why are you always up in my FACE, yo?
Me: Please take out your books and turn to page 10.
Student: Yo miss, didn't you wear that shirt last week?
Friday, May 30, 2008
mom, give me back my fucking drumsticks
interesting news in the world of foreign policy: Condoleezza Rice enlists in Kiss Army
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
new old post 4: a meme from Amanda
1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME (first pet, current car): Tarzan Cherokee
2. YOUR GANGSTA NAME (fave ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe): Almond Joy Reef.
3. YOUR NATIVE AMERICAN NAME (favorite color, favorite animal): Green Puppy
4. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME (middle name, city where you were born): Catherine Worcester.
5. YOUR STAR WARS NAME (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 of your first name): Cha An
6. SUPERHERO NAME (2nd favorite color, favorite drink): Blue Sapphire and tonic
7. NASCAR NAME (the first names of your grandfathers): Laurence Norman
8. STRIPPER NAME (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy): Acqua di Gio Cadbury Cream Egg
9. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME (your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter): Paine Philadelphia
10. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower): Fall Hyacinth
11. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now): Bing Cherry Sweater
12. HIPPIE NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree): Supreme Omelet Birch
13. NEW LJ ID: (One word from your street name, a nickname of a family member): Parker Cookie
UPDATE, 5/28/08: I can do better than this.
2. YOUR GANGSTA NAME (fave ice cream flavor, favorite type of shoe): Almond Joy Reef.
3. YOUR NATIVE AMERICAN NAME (favorite color, favorite animal): Green Puppy
4. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME (middle name, city where you were born): Catherine Worcester.
5. YOUR STAR WARS NAME (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 of your first name): Cha An
6. SUPERHERO NAME (2nd favorite color, favorite drink): Blue Sapphire and tonic
7. NASCAR NAME (the first names of your grandfathers): Laurence Norman
8. STRIPPER NAME (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy): Acqua di Gio Cadbury Cream Egg
9. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME (your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter): Paine Philadelphia
10. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower): Fall Hyacinth
11. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now): Bing Cherry Sweater
12. HIPPIE NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree): Supreme Omelet Birch
13. NEW LJ ID: (One word from your street name, a nickname of a family member): Parker Cookie
UPDATE, 5/28/08: I can do better than this.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
memorial day weekend
at long last, it's seersucker time.
seersucker is pretty awesome, but I get a little misty-eyed thinking about how much awesomer last Memorial Day weekend was. for example:
and of course:
On that note, happy birthday MRhé!
seersucker is pretty awesome, but I get a little misty-eyed thinking about how much awesomer last Memorial Day weekend was. for example:
and of course:
On that note, happy birthday MRhé!
Friday, May 23, 2008
new old post 3: on how I'm getting old
In my random internetty wanderings, I found this letter written by Katra, a blogger on Vox. Her blog is called "Freudenschade," which is a reversal of Schadenfreude (finding joy in other people's misfortune). So Freudenschade is supposed to mean being unhappy at other people's good fortune (see this article about a guy who felt guilty pleasure when they discovered the truth about that girl who plagiarized a novel in her college application).
I think it's a pretty cool concept, and clearly, a feeling I have all the time. It's similar to jealously, but feels more justified. I guess it's because the Freudenschade-feeler is the unhappy one, and we have this idea that gloating at others' pain is bad but self-hatred is kind of noble. Or maybe it's just because of the cool German name.
Anyways, enough about the word, back to the letter. This girl is turning 30, something I am kind of preoccupied with. What if I turn 30 and still don't have a real job? What if I'm never done with school? So her terminal degree and "real adult job" make me feel a twinge of jealousy. But after all, I have almost four more years to sort that out... yay?
I think it's a pretty cool concept, and clearly, a feeling I have all the time. It's similar to jealously, but feels more justified. I guess it's because the Freudenschade-feeler is the unhappy one, and we have this idea that gloating at others' pain is bad but self-hatred is kind of noble. Or maybe it's just because of the cool German name.
Anyways, enough about the word, back to the letter. This girl is turning 30, something I am kind of preoccupied with. What if I turn 30 and still don't have a real job? What if I'm never done with school? So her terminal degree and "real adult job" make me feel a twinge of jealousy. But after all, I have almost four more years to sort that out... yay?
Dear Twenties,
As I am sure you know, the time has come for us to part company. It's been a long, lovely ride, but this is my stop and I am getting off. Goodbye to you, suckas!
Don't get me wrong, there were a lot of things about you that were truly good: I gave up vegetarianism, for one, and every piece of bacon I now eat tastes just that much more delicious for its long absence. I was For Real In Love for the first time, which was also a pretty amazing thing. In retrospect, however, I'd have to say that my relationship with bacon has worked out much better for everyone involved. Except the pigs, of course.
In my twenties I think I also got the friendship thing right: I managed to keep the really important friendships and ditch the toxic ones. Learning to recognize the toxic ones alone was a major accomplishment. For some reason, it took me a while to figure out that if someone's basic function in your life is to make you feel shitty about yourself, then that person is not a friend. An ingenious insight, I know.
On the other hand, a lot about you straight up blew, Twenties. The long-nourished infatuations with people who didn't love me back (so much wasted time!), the exchange of running for sitting at a desk or on a couch, the mounting student loan and credit card debt -- those are fun little mistakes I plan never to repeat.
I hate to tell you Twenties, but I think the Thirties are going to kick your ass up one side and down the other. I'm no longer a student now, for the first time since before kindergarten. I have a terminal degree and a real adult job and a dog. I am at the beginning of my real life now, looking forward to establishing myself professionally and starting to earn a Serious Adult Salary (soon, we hope, right?).
The friendships keep getting better and better and I'm sure the relationships will, too, now that I know what I want out of them. One lesson learned, relationship-wise, for example: It is not okay if your boyfriend thinks that sitting on his couch smoking pot while you watch him play Nintendo is a fun date activity. Not okay.
Twenties, I bid you a bittersweet adieu. I'd love to stay and chat some more, but I have a mission. I am off to meet the Thirties and together we are going to step out and kick some serious ass. Sorry, Twenties, but it's over.
Really, finally over,
Katra
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