Saturday, September 30, 2006
ambiguous couples challenge me.
like if you can't tell if they're lesbians or an effeminate straight male with a butch chick. or if it's mother and son or may-december. this really effects my ability to sum up everything about their entire beings and make unfounded snap judgements as to where they've been, where they're going, and what kind of underwear they're wearing. like is that old-ish ho-ey lady just shopping in the juniors' section 20 years too long (mother and son) or does she really know what she's doing and I'M the loser that can't date a hot 24-year-old? see, challenging. the lesbian/effeminate male is wearing boxer briefs regardless. and i don't even have to guess because they're sticking out over the top of its dickies or carharts.
i know my writing voice has changed. i know i sound like i'm trying too hard or like i'm katerina. sucking at comedy haunts me and even when i try to escape it, it finds a way to inflict itself upon me.
to make up for it- retail therapy. short skirts and off-the-shoulder tops that i'm 10 years too old for. oh yeah, i KNOW that lady's outfit was from the juniors' section. i saw it at forever 21.
like if you can't tell if they're lesbians or an effeminate straight male with a butch chick. or if it's mother and son or may-december. this really effects my ability to sum up everything about their entire beings and make unfounded snap judgements as to where they've been, where they're going, and what kind of underwear they're wearing. like is that old-ish ho-ey lady just shopping in the juniors' section 20 years too long (mother and son) or does she really know what she's doing and I'M the loser that can't date a hot 24-year-old? see, challenging. the lesbian/effeminate male is wearing boxer briefs regardless. and i don't even have to guess because they're sticking out over the top of its dickies or carharts.
i know my writing voice has changed. i know i sound like i'm trying too hard or like i'm katerina. sucking at comedy haunts me and even when i try to escape it, it finds a way to inflict itself upon me.
to make up for it- retail therapy. short skirts and off-the-shoulder tops that i'm 10 years too old for. oh yeah, i KNOW that lady's outfit was from the juniors' section. i saw it at forever 21.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
update: mary had a little lamb is still going stong. but NOW, every now and then the toy thuds itself against the box. it's coming alive and trying to break free!
hola. cuanto cuestas tu?
ANYway, i was gonna write about how ironic it was that i conscientiously packed food rations, water, gum, ipod, pleasure reading, phone, phone charger (cuz my phone is fucked up), and car folder into my bookbag in preparation for a day at the DMV. good, maybe i should have checked to see if my INSPECTION CERTIFICATE were in the folder.
inSTEAD, i've gotta write about the freaky mary had a little lamb fake bell-ish jewelry box jingle that is coming from somewhere in my living room. it was scary initially because all i could think of was that the flabies (anne geddes flower babies porecelain children of the corn figurines) were coming alive. i couldn't look them in the eyes as i was frozen in fear. plus i figure that's probably the way they get you, so no direct eye contact. then blogger stopped working. their lazer beam eyes must be fucking with my borrowed wifi. upon further investigation (see, i've grown up from the days where i just used to play dead and hope the alien/robber/serial killer would just leave me alone. very recent development. like today.) i decide the noise is coming from inside a huge box that my perfect roommate is shipping to her brother in the phillipines. i open it up and it is FILLED with precisely arranged new toys still in their boxes. i can't dig to the bottom because my perfect roommate will be mad that i messed up the specifically alphabetized in increasing-dimensions-of-area order.
so i leave. before the box can come alive and come zap me, i decide to retreat to my bedroom, close the door, and pretend it never happened. hey, it IS a step up from playing dead after all. i even have my bookbag near me with the untouched rations and distractions, so i'm good to go for hours. but if that mary had a little lamb gets any louder or closer to my door, i will definitely regress. i needed to document it all so someone can know the real story when i'm gone.
don't buy flabies.
ANYway, i was gonna write about how ironic it was that i conscientiously packed food rations, water, gum, ipod, pleasure reading, phone, phone charger (cuz my phone is fucked up), and car folder into my bookbag in preparation for a day at the DMV. good, maybe i should have checked to see if my INSPECTION CERTIFICATE were in the folder.
inSTEAD, i've gotta write about the freaky mary had a little lamb fake bell-ish jewelry box jingle that is coming from somewhere in my living room. it was scary initially because all i could think of was that the flabies (anne geddes flower babies porecelain children of the corn figurines) were coming alive. i couldn't look them in the eyes as i was frozen in fear. plus i figure that's probably the way they get you, so no direct eye contact. then blogger stopped working. their lazer beam eyes must be fucking with my borrowed wifi. upon further investigation (see, i've grown up from the days where i just used to play dead and hope the alien/robber/serial killer would just leave me alone. very recent development. like today.) i decide the noise is coming from inside a huge box that my perfect roommate is shipping to her brother in the phillipines. i open it up and it is FILLED with precisely arranged new toys still in their boxes. i can't dig to the bottom because my perfect roommate will be mad that i messed up the specifically alphabetized in increasing-dimensions-of-area order.
so i leave. before the box can come alive and come zap me, i decide to retreat to my bedroom, close the door, and pretend it never happened. hey, it IS a step up from playing dead after all. i even have my bookbag near me with the untouched rations and distractions, so i'm good to go for hours. but if that mary had a little lamb gets any louder or closer to my door, i will definitely regress. i needed to document it all so someone can know the real story when i'm gone.
don't buy flabies.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
i teach things. i have patience with my students sometimes. but i have no patience for anyone else, especially not other teachers.
it's hard for me to go back to being a student. all i can think of is how my foot hurts, how i don't know where my keys are, how maybe i don't really want to go to grad school after all- and this is after the first minute of class. i'm over and done with them in 30 seconds and wandering the zig-zaggy dead-ends of my mind.
like really, the main purpose of the class should not be "to take up 3 hours of time." the first hour was spent telling us everything we don't know. not teaching us what we don't know- that might be productive- i'm saying telling. like this: "do you know what the decimal for 1/12 is? no, you don't." "do you know the ratio of sides for a 30-60-90 triangle? didn't think so." "the area of a pentagon? the square root of 7? average of 2008, 13/4, and -16.45?" (i wanted to add in something way out there, like "my mom's secret recipe for lemon merengue pie" but then you would mistakenly think this guy had an ounce of humor.) "no. no. no" "but that is what you are going to learn to do in this course."
blah blah blah blah BULLSHIT. nothing nothing HORSE TOES. eh eh eh DONKEY BALLS. for another hour.
3rd hour practice test. fun. listen to the right answers. not so fun. no helpful explanations though, just useless CHICKEN SLOP.
"time to assign homework. here are a kagillion problems. and you are going to look up- what did you think i'd just give you the answers? that wouldn't be learning! i said you'd learn those things in this course!- all the fractions and decimals and square roots and COW PIES and memorize them all so that next week you can come back and make a NOTECARD." (which he did write on the board just like that "NOTECARD".) "it's all about the NOTECARD people."
i don't know what happened after that because 3 hours was over, my patience had been suffocating for 2 hours and 59 and a half minutes and freaking needed to breathe already. so i busted out. like TURKEY STUFFING.
it's hard for me to go back to being a student. all i can think of is how my foot hurts, how i don't know where my keys are, how maybe i don't really want to go to grad school after all- and this is after the first minute of class. i'm over and done with them in 30 seconds and wandering the zig-zaggy dead-ends of my mind.
like really, the main purpose of the class should not be "to take up 3 hours of time." the first hour was spent telling us everything we don't know. not teaching us what we don't know- that might be productive- i'm saying telling. like this: "do you know what the decimal for 1/12 is? no, you don't." "do you know the ratio of sides for a 30-60-90 triangle? didn't think so." "the area of a pentagon? the square root of 7? average of 2008, 13/4, and -16.45?" (i wanted to add in something way out there, like "my mom's secret recipe for lemon merengue pie" but then you would mistakenly think this guy had an ounce of humor.) "no. no. no" "but that is what you are going to learn to do in this course."
blah blah blah blah BULLSHIT. nothing nothing HORSE TOES. eh eh eh DONKEY BALLS. for another hour.
3rd hour practice test. fun. listen to the right answers. not so fun. no helpful explanations though, just useless CHICKEN SLOP.
"time to assign homework. here are a kagillion problems. and you are going to look up- what did you think i'd just give you the answers? that wouldn't be learning! i said you'd learn those things in this course!- all the fractions and decimals and square roots and COW PIES and memorize them all so that next week you can come back and make a NOTECARD." (which he did write on the board just like that "NOTECARD".) "it's all about the NOTECARD people."
i don't know what happened after that because 3 hours was over, my patience had been suffocating for 2 hours and 59 and a half minutes and freaking needed to breathe already. so i busted out. like TURKEY STUFFING.
Monday, September 11, 2006
so it's about as official as it's ever going to be. i'm no longer considered a shitty teacher by the "suits" at work. i've been such a good employee in past jobs- and i've had over 22 because i counted once. and not because i do them all for one month but because i have a million at a time. well, slightly less than a million hence the 22 jobs total.
admittedly, i do a worse job at this one than any other, but that's because it's what is expected of me. you put me in the shitty teacher pile and if i don't belong there in the first place, why the hell am i going to try to climb out from underneath it? i'm not. i refuse to perform like a trained monkey when supervisors observe my class. if i happen to be doing a majority lecture lesson that day (not the norm) then so be it. it's still a freaking good, important, and necessary lecture. i'm not going to INVENT some inefficient fake fun group activity so some non-teacher can make check marks next to buzz words on some assinine list. if i happen to be doing said assinine activity as an experiment into my own teaching and my own students' learning, that's different. ANYWAYS, i was teaching, and was observed by 7 'suits' during a more or less boring lecture/overhead class. and they had wicked nice things to say about me. that's right. that's what i can do when my class isn't llena de criminales. and now my principal even says "hi joy" to me in the hall and calls on me at meetings. big difference after a year and a half of being ignored. what's crazy to me is that i care. why should i care what these people think? i have been doing a good job all along and my kids have learned a lot. the good ones know everything i know. i'm excellent at imparting knowlegde (aka teaching).
i never took classes on how to be a teacher. i never studied spanish for any reason but enjoyment of the challenge and appreciation for the language and culture- never so i could USE it in real life. how did i know where life's path would take me? no one realizes how little opportunity i've had to learn this stuff. i'm trying people! it's not my fault everyone else is AMAZING.
bleh blah bluh school stuff. boo.
admittedly, i do a worse job at this one than any other, but that's because it's what is expected of me. you put me in the shitty teacher pile and if i don't belong there in the first place, why the hell am i going to try to climb out from underneath it? i'm not. i refuse to perform like a trained monkey when supervisors observe my class. if i happen to be doing a majority lecture lesson that day (not the norm) then so be it. it's still a freaking good, important, and necessary lecture. i'm not going to INVENT some inefficient fake fun group activity so some non-teacher can make check marks next to buzz words on some assinine list. if i happen to be doing said assinine activity as an experiment into my own teaching and my own students' learning, that's different. ANYWAYS, i was teaching, and was observed by 7 'suits' during a more or less boring lecture/overhead class. and they had wicked nice things to say about me. that's right. that's what i can do when my class isn't llena de criminales. and now my principal even says "hi joy" to me in the hall and calls on me at meetings. big difference after a year and a half of being ignored. what's crazy to me is that i care. why should i care what these people think? i have been doing a good job all along and my kids have learned a lot. the good ones know everything i know. i'm excellent at imparting knowlegde (aka teaching).
i never took classes on how to be a teacher. i never studied spanish for any reason but enjoyment of the challenge and appreciation for the language and culture- never so i could USE it in real life. how did i know where life's path would take me? no one realizes how little opportunity i've had to learn this stuff. i'm trying people! it's not my fault everyone else is AMAZING.
bleh blah bluh school stuff. boo.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
have ya missed me? well i went to the beach. as in the going to the beach that metro-washingtonians do. as in we pack a monton de cosas and book a place to stay and drive for hours to get there. surprisingly, it was very nice. despite the hurricane. ha. no joke. and even though my life is pretty good, it was so refreshing to escape it for awhile.
y ahora, un poco de poesia.
te veo por lagrimas,
te oigo por gritos,
te ries de mis
sentimientos escritos.
entre las aguas
y tras el cielo
me siento que tengas
un corazon de hielo.
no me conoces.
no me quieres.
pero si me confundes
con quien tu eres.
me encanta el misterio.
me gusta lo ligero.
pero lo que me falta,
es amor verdadero.
chao babies!
y ahora, un poco de poesia.
te veo por lagrimas,
te oigo por gritos,
te ries de mis
sentimientos escritos.
entre las aguas
y tras el cielo
me siento que tengas
un corazon de hielo.
no me conoces.
no me quieres.
pero si me confundes
con quien tu eres.
me encanta el misterio.
me gusta lo ligero.
pero lo que me falta,
es amor verdadero.
chao babies!
