I just ordered a book called The English Teacher's Survival Guide, and I'm more excited about this than I was when I got my first Cabbage Patch, Terrence Bruce. More excited than when my mom and I bought the Get-Along-Gang train set for my friend's birthday present and I begged for her to buy me one too, and she wouldn't, and I threw a tantrum, and later found that of course, she had bought one for me and hid it in her bedroom closet. Boy, was I ashamed of myself. But also excited! Like I am for the book that eight of eight reviewers promise will save my life!
Starting Friday, I will be a free person again, for 9 glorious days! I plan to spend three days working nonstop, scaring Ben with my frantic, coffee-fueled hummingbird movements; then, I'll throw myself into the activities of adulthood I have neglected for too long. Staying up past 10:30, cooking meals, going to movies and not feeling guilty. I cannot wait!
I hope my impatience and defeatism, having given up on imparting any knowledge this quarter, aren't too visible to the studes. I wonder if they've noticed that while they're enjoying their "study periods" leading up to this Thursday's test, I am reading recaps of shows I've already seen! I doubt it.
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Monday, September 26, 2005
only in hawaii
Would your landlord come to town and bring you a box of pastries he'd carried on the plane from Maui. Delicious, flaky manju crust filled with apple, pineapple, coconut or blueberries, cleverly impressed with little glyphs in the dough to tell you which filling each one contains.
In the interest of full disclosure, this was my dad's friend, who gave my dad the box with instructions to give half to us. So it's not like he came all the way here to visit us and give us goodies. But still. Omiyage rocks!
That was my first link. I hope it worked. Scroll down to the post entitled, "Ah, Hawai'i Nei...here I come" if you would like to read a hilarious ethnography of this practice (obligatory gift-giving).
Our weekend was good. Continuing in our surely unhealthy practice of complete co-dependency, we spent the whole thing together, unencumbered by the company of anyone who doesn't speak our language. The fact that I just say "we" and assume you'll know who I mean is itself unhealthy. Eh.
Dinner at the parents' house followed by a little Rainbows volleyball and the season premiere of Supernanny. A drive to Waimea (aka Kamuela) and Kohala (aka Kapa'au), where I bought my new favorite dress! A teal-and-maroon-striped jersey dress with a wrap front and shirred bodice. I can't describe it, other than to say it is almost exactly like a shorts jumpsuit I had when I was six, only a dress, without the sticky snaps at the shoulder that once caused me to pee on the bathroom floor as I hopped around, trying desperately to unsnap them.
It's sooooo cute! now, if I can just get up the nerve to wear it without irony. Clothing risks are a lot more difficult to take here. I could be ruined. Ruined!
Tomorrow is "Nerd Day" at school (homecoming spirit week), and I'm afraid one of my students is going to say, "Miss! You dressed up for Nerd Day!" no matter what I wear. I have a few who would do just that.
Sorry this post has no theme. Incidentally, I have become that teacher I vowed to never be: the one who teaches that stories have "themes." I might as well have gone to graduate school for an MBA.
In the interest of full disclosure, this was my dad's friend, who gave my dad the box with instructions to give half to us. So it's not like he came all the way here to visit us and give us goodies. But still. Omiyage rocks!
That was my first link. I hope it worked. Scroll down to the post entitled, "Ah, Hawai'i Nei...here I come" if you would like to read a hilarious ethnography of this practice (obligatory gift-giving).
Our weekend was good. Continuing in our surely unhealthy practice of complete co-dependency, we spent the whole thing together, unencumbered by the company of anyone who doesn't speak our language. The fact that I just say "we" and assume you'll know who I mean is itself unhealthy. Eh.
Dinner at the parents' house followed by a little Rainbows volleyball and the season premiere of Supernanny. A drive to Waimea (aka Kamuela) and Kohala (aka Kapa'au), where I bought my new favorite dress! A teal-and-maroon-striped jersey dress with a wrap front and shirred bodice. I can't describe it, other than to say it is almost exactly like a shorts jumpsuit I had when I was six, only a dress, without the sticky snaps at the shoulder that once caused me to pee on the bathroom floor as I hopped around, trying desperately to unsnap them.
It's sooooo cute! now, if I can just get up the nerve to wear it without irony. Clothing risks are a lot more difficult to take here. I could be ruined. Ruined!
Tomorrow is "Nerd Day" at school (homecoming spirit week), and I'm afraid one of my students is going to say, "Miss! You dressed up for Nerd Day!" no matter what I wear. I have a few who would do just that.
Sorry this post has no theme. Incidentally, I have become that teacher I vowed to never be: the one who teaches that stories have "themes." I might as well have gone to graduate school for an MBA.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
in the center ring...
True to my avant-garde nature, I am now going to experiment with dialogue.
J: I hope you realize that storing the 20-pound sack of potatoes from Costco on the kitchen counter is not a permanent solution.
B: Okay! I know just where to keep it! [scampers off]
J: [rolls eyes]
two hours pass
B: You must be tired. Why don't you lie down? Really. You look tired.
J: [raises eyebrows]
B: Seriously! [chases her into bedroom, pushes down to the bed]
J lays her head down upon the pillowcase, from which pillow has been removed and replaced with bag of Russet potatoes.
And, scene!
J: I hope you realize that storing the 20-pound sack of potatoes from Costco on the kitchen counter is not a permanent solution.
B: Okay! I know just where to keep it! [scampers off]
J: [rolls eyes]
two hours pass
B: You must be tired. Why don't you lie down? Really. You look tired.
J: [raises eyebrows]
B: Seriously! [chases her into bedroom, pushes down to the bed]
J lays her head down upon the pillowcase, from which pillow has been removed and replaced with bag of Russet potatoes.
And, scene!
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
my first list
Here are some words that have crept annoyingly into my vocabulary.
- disrupt
- respect
- productive
- tardy
- attention (pay)
- worksheet
- correct
- try
Soon I'll be joining the war on drugs and watching nothing but 7th Heaven and Supernanny.
- respect
- productive
- tardy
- attention (pay)
- worksheet
- correct
- try
Soon I'll be joining the war on drugs and watching nothing but 7th Heaven and Supernanny.
Monday, September 19, 2005
dilly-dallying
I'm just posting this to remind myself that "dilly-dally" is a SUPERB verb! It evokes ice cream, southern gentility, and silliness all in one nonsense word.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
REAL night fever
Last night Ben and I saw The Brothers Grimm. It warn't bad. But I can't figure out why the bros, who were German (right?), spoke with English accents. Heath Ledger's character, a bumbling scholar of folk tales with a slight speech impediment, is my kind of movie heartthrob. I can't say I would have a crush on Jacob Grimm as played by Wallace Shawn; what I'm saying is that jocks dressed up as nerds, who then dress up as ladies in bonnets, are HOT.
In the middle of the night, Ben woke me up and claimed to have heard a prowler in our backyard. We spent an edgy hour or so with our ears cocked at various windows and, ridiculously, refusing to turn the lights on or speak out loud. Were our exaggerated lip movements supposed to allow the guy to enter the house, so we'd have something to charge him with? I can't explain our logic.
I'll now take every opportunity to poke fun at Ben for being brainwashed by the movie into dreaming up our own Evil Forest. It's entirely possible that someone has built a fort in our backyard, camouflaged by vines and ti leaves, but I hold to my belief that it was a wild boar. I prefer to reserve my hysterics for predictions of volcano eruptions, WMD attacks, and giant meteors destroying the earth. Things against which Heath's square jaw and bulging biceps would be utterly useless.
In the middle of the night, Ben woke me up and claimed to have heard a prowler in our backyard. We spent an edgy hour or so with our ears cocked at various windows and, ridiculously, refusing to turn the lights on or speak out loud. Were our exaggerated lip movements supposed to allow the guy to enter the house, so we'd have something to charge him with? I can't explain our logic.
I'll now take every opportunity to poke fun at Ben for being brainwashed by the movie into dreaming up our own Evil Forest. It's entirely possible that someone has built a fort in our backyard, camouflaged by vines and ti leaves, but I hold to my belief that it was a wild boar. I prefer to reserve my hysterics for predictions of volcano eruptions, WMD attacks, and giant meteors destroying the earth. Things against which Heath's square jaw and bulging biceps would be utterly useless.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
night fever, night fee-VER!
Tonight, B-ho and I each checked our blood pressure on the free machine at Longs' Drugs. Or is it Long's? I should know these things so I can drill them into the head's of my "Student's."
In the scheme of our social calendar, that would rate a "Best Bet."
In the scheme of our social calendar, that would rate a "Best Bet."
Thursday, September 08, 2005
cotton candy coated weekend!
Ah, me. The kids at school are abuzz with excitement over this weekend's "carnival." It's actually the county farm fair with a few rusty rides and rip-off games thrown in, but has been called "The Carnival" since I was a kid. The traditions are still alive: kids expect their parents to spend a week's wages on the same polyester stuffed toys and plastic fruit-shaped sippy cups filled with sugar water. And the tube-topped teens preside over it all.
Ben wants to attend the Carnage, probably to see if he can befriend any carnies. Exactly one year ago, we were visiting Kona and spent an afternoon (and 20 bucks) there. We rode one ride, The Sizzler. The next week we learned that an identical Sizzler in Baltimore had malfunctioned and tossed a few people to their death.
Tonight some people we met through Ben's job are coming over for dinner. We went to our first "company party" the other night: 10 people at the beach, eating grilled fish & drinking beer. It gave us hope that we might yet have friends beyond each other. I'll try not to scare them off tonight with trivia games or circle-sharing of hopes and dreams.
Ben wants to attend the Carnage, probably to see if he can befriend any carnies. Exactly one year ago, we were visiting Kona and spent an afternoon (and 20 bucks) there. We rode one ride, The Sizzler. The next week we learned that an identical Sizzler in Baltimore had malfunctioned and tossed a few people to their death.
Tonight some people we met through Ben's job are coming over for dinner. We went to our first "company party" the other night: 10 people at the beach, eating grilled fish & drinking beer. It gave us hope that we might yet have friends beyond each other. I'll try not to scare them off tonight with trivia games or circle-sharing of hopes and dreams.
Friday, September 02, 2005
gloating
Two months ago, as one of Jennifer James's acolytes, I attended a "water-tasting seminar" pitting Fiji bottled water against Albuquerque tap, was paid, then worked three hours for the amount of money I now make in a 12-hour day. Today, I'm facing a three-day weekend, and I'm psyched at the prospects: scrubbing mildew from the bathroom (a tile enclosure without adequate sloping is a terrible thing), combatting our growing ant problem, then trying desperately to think of ways to motivate my students (in some cases, to learn to read) as I question my worth as a human being - child's play! That, and maybe having a margarita with Ben. And sleeping past seven o'clock one day.
I know, this sympathy-begging tune is becoming tiresome. I am embracing my triteness.
And of course, today, I am listening to rain on the tin roof: not falling, like lame Norah Jones would describe it, but cascading, drumming. The rain will probably give way in a couple of hours to a glittering sunset, and maybe it will be cool enough tonight to sleep with the bedspread on, and I can curl up in it and feel all cuddly. That wouldn't have happened in Albuquerque. Take that, nostalgic yearnings!
I realize it is poor form to bliss out about rain when this benign natural phenomenon has created a living hell for millions of people. I'm sure I'll be punished for it in some way. But since I have no insight to offer, why not be happy for what I have?
I know, this sympathy-begging tune is becoming tiresome. I am embracing my triteness.
And of course, today, I am listening to rain on the tin roof: not falling, like lame Norah Jones would describe it, but cascading, drumming. The rain will probably give way in a couple of hours to a glittering sunset, and maybe it will be cool enough tonight to sleep with the bedspread on, and I can curl up in it and feel all cuddly. That wouldn't have happened in Albuquerque. Take that, nostalgic yearnings!
I realize it is poor form to bliss out about rain when this benign natural phenomenon has created a living hell for millions of people. I'm sure I'll be punished for it in some way. But since I have no insight to offer, why not be happy for what I have?
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