I used to be against emailing in all lowercase letters. Now, I'm totally into it. I realize this may be a slippery slope (perhaps I will start writing blogs that consist of "2day was 2 awesum 4 words!"), but for right now, I am totes into it.
(I am also currently into asinine abbreviations, my favorite being 'obvs' instead of the painstakingly drawn-out o-b-v-i-o-u-s-l-y.)
I can sometimes stay awake later than 9 o'clock during the week! Not always, but enough so that I sometimes watch Glee when it is on. Last week I also made it through at least four minutes of It's Always Sunny ...
Speaking of Sunny, how liberating must it be to be Danny Devito? That guy is always foaming at the mouth or drinking wine out of a can or using disgusting euphemisms for sex. Plus, his hair stands wildly on end. I get a real kick out of that guy.
I'm also into the fact that I have finally finished grading all of first quarter's work (regular and make-up) and am happy to report that the failure rate is w-a-y lower than in previous years. Not everyone is making honor roll (one person actually has a cumulative average of 8. As in, one two three four five, six seven eight* ...), but that's fine. Say it with me now: school is not for everyone!
On that note, Saturday night is for people to enjoy, right? Here's hoping I last through an entire Doctor Who ep. (That's right ... I said 'ep.')
Later, alligators!
*It just took everything I had not to keep going with "nine ten, eleven tw-e-e-e-e-e-elve" according to that tune from Sesame Strasse ... which I just found on the ol' Youtube
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZshZp-cxKg Enjoy!
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
an update that only an insane person would care about
Perhaps this will make one of you smirk: remember all that tough talk a while back about how I was going to put someone in a world of pain if said person removed a table from my room at school? You'll be happy to note that The Table is still in my old room (I tutor there a few days a week after school). So even if I've been exiled across the way, at least The Table is still enjoying good times in the Big House.
It's nice to know that I spend my time thinking about valuable things.
'Night!
It's nice to know that I spend my time thinking about valuable things.
'Night!
new month, new 'tude
Ok, not really! Except I did get an extra hour of sleep, which is making all of the things I want/have/feel like I should/may actually do today seem that much more manageable. Also, my apartment is no longer doubling as a sweat lodge (seriously, the apartment below me must be like the surface of the sun, because my floor is warm as balls), which helps out on the ol' Why Am I Cranky Now? front.
Plus, this week ushers in the end of the first quarter. I feel like I've made great strides in dealing with some things that a mere month ago had me all outta sorts. Now if some spots would just open up at the alternative school (from what I hear, many people are doing their best to transition into full-time degeneration, which may earn them slots in other state-run institutions ... thanks, folks!), things would look even brighter.
I leave you with a recap of a recent convo with my mother:
Me: So are you nervous about the whole 'more pink slips in the near future' situation at work these days?
Moe, adamantly: No! You know what I think? I think I've spent too much time worrying about a bunch of bullshit that I have no control over.
Me, admiringly: I think that's fantastic! I'm still working my way through fear about once and future unemployment concerns, but I think it's awesome that you aren't getting swept up in it.
Moe: Seriously, if I get laid off, I get laid off. Maybe I'll get a part-time job that won't be so goddamned stressful. Maybe I'll start selling your father's clothes on Ebay. At this point in my life [note: here I start to fear that Moe is going to go down the "who knows how much time I have left route"], I realize that I really don't give a shit about all of the stuff that used to seem so urgent and important.
Me: Like having everyone at work respect your diligence?
Moe, snorting with laughter: I figure I'm going to rest on my laurels. If no one remembers that I busted my ass there for the last twenty years, they can suck it.
Me: I think I'm going to needlepoint that for your birthday present.
Moe, getting serious: You know I'd much prefer a bottle of something right?
Plus, this week ushers in the end of the first quarter. I feel like I've made great strides in dealing with some things that a mere month ago had me all outta sorts. Now if some spots would just open up at the alternative school (from what I hear, many people are doing their best to transition into full-time degeneration, which may earn them slots in other state-run institutions ... thanks, folks!), things would look even brighter.
I leave you with a recap of a recent convo with my mother:
Me: So are you nervous about the whole 'more pink slips in the near future' situation at work these days?
Moe, adamantly: No! You know what I think? I think I've spent too much time worrying about a bunch of bullshit that I have no control over.
Me, admiringly: I think that's fantastic! I'm still working my way through fear about once and future unemployment concerns, but I think it's awesome that you aren't getting swept up in it.
Moe: Seriously, if I get laid off, I get laid off. Maybe I'll get a part-time job that won't be so goddamned stressful. Maybe I'll start selling your father's clothes on Ebay. At this point in my life [note: here I start to fear that Moe is going to go down the "who knows how much time I have left route"], I realize that I really don't give a shit about all of the stuff that used to seem so urgent and important.
Me: Like having everyone at work respect your diligence?
Moe, snorting with laughter: I figure I'm going to rest on my laurels. If no one remembers that I busted my ass there for the last twenty years, they can suck it.
Me: I think I'm going to needlepoint that for your birthday present.
Moe, getting serious: You know I'd much prefer a bottle of something right?
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
we are having some adjustment issues
The state's education requirements and I, that is.
(I'll skip the part where I explain that I'm not racist just because I don't have the same standards for every student, because I assume that both of you reading this already know that.)
The new graduation requirements are going to make it considerably more difficult for many of the students I know to graduate from high school in four years. This year I have a number of bright, motivated, and excited kids in my honors classes. Over half of them cannot identify the subject in the sentence, "Each of us can succeed in life." We have been working on subject-verb agreement (not exclusively, but pretty consistently) for nearly three weeks now. Most people are getting the hang of things now, but I foresee spending nearly a month on pronoun-antecedent agreement too. Their ignorance of grammar has nothing to do with their intelligence, and everything to do with, well, off the top of my head:
1. having chronic illness(es) that are not particularly well managed, leading to lots of absences
2. attending several schools -- sometimes in the same school year -- with different curriculums that emphasize/cover concepts at different points
3. speaking, reading, and writing English as a second, third, or fourth language
4. having any kind of learning disability that requires consistent one-on-one support and instruction
5. any combination of the above, plus shit that would make me cry if I typed it out
To ask that all students read critically and write proficiently is not nutrageous (nor is it outrageous, which was my original adjective in this rant!), I know. But to ignore the realities of people's lives and insist that it would be racist not to hold everyone to high standards ... hmm, well, I'm sure it'll work out fine.
In non-craptacular news: it is almost the end of first quarter and I haven't even taken a personal day yet! Last year's Sweathogs nearly broke my will after a mere five weeks in their collective company, so I consider this a victory.
(I'll skip the part where I explain that I'm not racist just because I don't have the same standards for every student, because I assume that both of you reading this already know that.)
The new graduation requirements are going to make it considerably more difficult for many of the students I know to graduate from high school in four years. This year I have a number of bright, motivated, and excited kids in my honors classes. Over half of them cannot identify the subject in the sentence, "Each of us can succeed in life." We have been working on subject-verb agreement (not exclusively, but pretty consistently) for nearly three weeks now. Most people are getting the hang of things now, but I foresee spending nearly a month on pronoun-antecedent agreement too. Their ignorance of grammar has nothing to do with their intelligence, and everything to do with, well, off the top of my head:
1. having chronic illness(es) that are not particularly well managed, leading to lots of absences
2. attending several schools -- sometimes in the same school year -- with different curriculums that emphasize/cover concepts at different points
3. speaking, reading, and writing English as a second, third, or fourth language
4. having any kind of learning disability that requires consistent one-on-one support and instruction
5. any combination of the above, plus shit that would make me cry if I typed it out
To ask that all students read critically and write proficiently is not nutrageous (nor is it outrageous, which was my original adjective in this rant!), I know. But to ignore the realities of people's lives and insist that it would be racist not to hold everyone to high standards ... hmm, well, I'm sure it'll work out fine.
In non-craptacular news: it is almost the end of first quarter and I haven't even taken a personal day yet! Last year's Sweathogs nearly broke my will after a mere five weeks in their collective company, so I consider this a victory.
Monday, October 19, 2009
I think my mother might have rage issues
Me, answering the phone during Jeopardy!: Who is Clara Barton?
Moe, outraged: WHO GIVES A SHIT?! THE GODDAMNED YANKEES AND ANGELS ARE TIED. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?
Me, trying to guess: That the Angels may be eliminated today?
Moe, even more outraged: WHO GIVES A SHIT? HOUSE ISN'T ON NOW BECAUSE OF THIS GODDAMNED GAME!
Me, trying to be sympathetic: Well, won't they just start the new episode when the game ends? And didn't the game start at, like, 4 o'clock?
Moe, sounding like Bruce Banner as he becomes the Hulk: AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! [hangs up]
Me, talking to my couch: Jesus Christ, I love it when other people make me seem measured and calm.
My couch:
Moe, outraged: WHO GIVES A SHIT?! THE GODDAMNED YANKEES AND ANGELS ARE TIED. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?
Me, trying to guess: That the Angels may be eliminated today?
Moe, even more outraged: WHO GIVES A SHIT? HOUSE ISN'T ON NOW BECAUSE OF THIS GODDAMNED GAME!
Me, trying to be sympathetic: Well, won't they just start the new episode when the game ends? And didn't the game start at, like, 4 o'clock?
Moe, sounding like Bruce Banner as he becomes the Hulk: AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! [hangs up]
Me, talking to my couch: Jesus Christ, I love it when other people make me seem measured and calm.
My couch:
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Why I will never be the cool teacher.
Subtitled: Sometimes teenagers lie!
Why can't we chew gum? Mr. Q lets us chew gum.
Why can't we text? Mrs. V lets us text.
Why can't we talk during quizzes? Mr. T lets us talk during quizzes. [note: I suspect Mr. T would pity the fool who dared chat during one of his quizzes on not being someone's fool.]
Why do we have to pick the newspapers up off the floor? Madame X lets us throw newspapers on the floor and leave them there.
Why can't we throw pencils at each other? Sir Z installed a dart board in the back of his room so we can practice our mad skillz.
Why can't we do whatever we want whenever we want? Miss O turned her room into an opium den. She lets us laze about like Jabba the Hut. On opium.
Why can't we chew gum? Mr. Q lets us chew gum.
Why can't we text? Mrs. V lets us text.
Why can't we talk during quizzes? Mr. T lets us talk during quizzes. [note: I suspect Mr. T would pity the fool who dared chat during one of his quizzes on not being someone's fool.]
Why do we have to pick the newspapers up off the floor? Madame X lets us throw newspapers on the floor and leave them there.
Why can't we throw pencils at each other? Sir Z installed a dart board in the back of his room so we can practice our mad skillz.
Why can't we do whatever we want whenever we want? Miss O turned her room into an opium den. She lets us laze about like Jabba the Hut. On opium.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
the way things were, the way things weren't. you know, the usual.
The conversation I had in my head:
Me: Let's make a pact! Neither one of us will go into each other's room and berate the other in front of a room full of people.
X, confused: But you've never done that to me before.
Me, smiling: RIGHT! BECAUSE I'M NOT A TOTAL A-HOLE. MAYBE YOU COULD TAKE A CUE THERE, GENIUS.
The conversatioin I had with my AB*
Me, hesitantly after a meeting: Do you have time for a quick question?
AB: Sure!
[We walk into my room and shut the door.]
AB: Let me guess. You are having some adjustment issues.
Me, hesitantly: Ah, well, the kids are great.
AB, snorting: I wasn't talking about the kids!
Me, relieved: [I explain the details that really upset me on Friday.]
AB, nodding: Well, I can see one major problem here.
Me, nervously: What's that?
AB, pursing her lips: We are dealing with a known a-hole.
And that, my friends, is one of the 2,409 reasons I love AB. Now only has she adopted certain expressions of mine, but I like that she doesn't sugarcoat things. I am, in fact, dealing with a known a-hole. But having support from a reasonable person (who is, for the record**, the only one whose job it is to give me unsolicited feedback if I need it!) made me feel that much better.
In summation: not a single tear was shed (it was actually a very productive and fun day) and Operation: Get the Eff Out of My Face (and Stay There!) will probably commence tomorrow morning.
Until then!
*Awesome Boss
**I just nodded to the nonexistent court stenographer in the courtroom of my mind
Me: Let's make a pact! Neither one of us will go into each other's room and berate the other in front of a room full of people.
X, confused: But you've never done that to me before.
Me, smiling: RIGHT! BECAUSE I'M NOT A TOTAL A-HOLE. MAYBE YOU COULD TAKE A CUE THERE, GENIUS.
The conversatioin I had with my AB*
Me, hesitantly after a meeting: Do you have time for a quick question?
AB: Sure!
[We walk into my room and shut the door.]
AB: Let me guess. You are having some adjustment issues.
Me, hesitantly: Ah, well, the kids are great.
AB, snorting: I wasn't talking about the kids!
Me, relieved: [I explain the details that really upset me on Friday.]
AB, nodding: Well, I can see one major problem here.
Me, nervously: What's that?
AB, pursing her lips: We are dealing with a known a-hole.
And that, my friends, is one of the 2,409 reasons I love AB. Now only has she adopted certain expressions of mine, but I like that she doesn't sugarcoat things. I am, in fact, dealing with a known a-hole. But having support from a reasonable person (who is, for the record**, the only one whose job it is to give me unsolicited feedback if I need it!) made me feel that much better.
In summation: not a single tear was shed (it was actually a very productive and fun day) and Operation: Get the Eff Out of My Face (and Stay There!) will probably commence tomorrow morning.
Until then!
*Awesome Boss
**I just nodded to the nonexistent court stenographer in the courtroom of my mind
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