Although I'm not a big dresser-upper, I do like learning about the history of holidays. Although I'm not sure whether or not the veracity of this site's information has been thoroughly checked and rechecked, have a look at the brief history of Halloween. Those Catholics really know how to steal a holiday! :)
http://www.history.com/minisites/halloween/viewPage?pageId=713
And here's a little Halloween poem I wrote... I'm not anti-Halloween, but since I didn't dress up today, I was being hassled by a number of people... So here you are...
To heck with all ye ghastly ghouls
Who prance around dressed up like fools
And bob for fruit and beg for treats
Never to prove thyself through feats.
A ding-dong here means fill the bag,
And a knock-knock says we'll play a gag.
So enjoy the ruckus and find my peeve
By playing the devil on All Hallow's Eve.
Back to work for me... all prep and no play make T a dull boy. But, dull I will remain for tonight! Ciao...
- T
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Have I really been doing this for 2 months?
I think it really sunk in this morning. I'm sitting with my coffee in front of me, limited stress (I teach all day one day and have the next day to prep... it's the prep day), I just finished reading The G&M, and I had a moderately enjoyable sleep last night. Why did it sink in that I've been in the Okanagan for 2 months?? One word: weather.
So, it's bloody cold. Well, I guess it's not, really, considering southern Alberta is looking at temperatures in the negative teens WITHOUT the wind chill factor. However, let us recall that I'd been living in the temperate paradise known as Victoria for the past 3 years. People say that I'm from Alberta, so this whole cold/snow/wind thing shouldn't really affect me. And this even SEEMS like a plausible point. HOWEVER, it took me a total of 12 minutes to become acclimated to the west coast weather and Victoria only receives about 2 days of snow a year. Sure, the outlying areas might enjoy (or recoil in horror to) a bit more snow and maybe a touch of sleet and misery, but it's limited, especially when you don't venture outside of Victoria unless it's summertime or Christmas vacation. In other words, I'm a big wuss.
I haven't used that word in years. It just looks funny. WUSS. Is that even how you spell such a charming colloquialism?
Yes, I had my winter 3-in-1 style jacket one, as well as a warm toque and a sweater underneath all of this bulk. But I don't even have a pair of bloody mitts or long johns any more! So my skinny fingers were losing their feeling. Luckily, I was running a bit late to the bus today so I was doing my best power-walking impression to get to the bus on time. And this also helped to keep the blood moving in my lower extremedies. But it's still bloody cold. Frost. Frostbite. Wind chills. Negative temperatures. Idling cars. Lock de-icer. Frozen bits of breath in the air.
These things made me realize that I'm not in Victoria anymore, Toto. I'm in a new place with new challenges and something resembling a career. What the heck happened to the carefree days of travelling foreign continents and being a patron at a variety of nightclubs while working at another club? I shouldn't be surprised... it's been a long time coming. The grey hairs prove it. Sometimes it just hits you like a bag of bricks to the solar plexis.
- T
So, it's bloody cold. Well, I guess it's not, really, considering southern Alberta is looking at temperatures in the negative teens WITHOUT the wind chill factor. However, let us recall that I'd been living in the temperate paradise known as Victoria for the past 3 years. People say that I'm from Alberta, so this whole cold/snow/wind thing shouldn't really affect me. And this even SEEMS like a plausible point. HOWEVER, it took me a total of 12 minutes to become acclimated to the west coast weather and Victoria only receives about 2 days of snow a year. Sure, the outlying areas might enjoy (or recoil in horror to) a bit more snow and maybe a touch of sleet and misery, but it's limited, especially when you don't venture outside of Victoria unless it's summertime or Christmas vacation. In other words, I'm a big wuss.
I haven't used that word in years. It just looks funny. WUSS. Is that even how you spell such a charming colloquialism?
Yes, I had my winter 3-in-1 style jacket one, as well as a warm toque and a sweater underneath all of this bulk. But I don't even have a pair of bloody mitts or long johns any more! So my skinny fingers were losing their feeling. Luckily, I was running a bit late to the bus today so I was doing my best power-walking impression to get to the bus on time. And this also helped to keep the blood moving in my lower extremedies. But it's still bloody cold. Frost. Frostbite. Wind chills. Negative temperatures. Idling cars. Lock de-icer. Frozen bits of breath in the air.
These things made me realize that I'm not in Victoria anymore, Toto. I'm in a new place with new challenges and something resembling a career. What the heck happened to the carefree days of travelling foreign continents and being a patron at a variety of nightclubs while working at another club? I shouldn't be surprised... it's been a long time coming. The grey hairs prove it. Sometimes it just hits you like a bag of bricks to the solar plexis.
- T
Sunday, October 29, 2006
Yet another Sunday
And there's little to talk about.
I've just been musing a lot lately. Thinking about people in the past, what they may be doing now, what they think I'm up to... wondering how things would be if I made a different decision about travelling or moving to BC or even pursuing English as a degree. Who I would've met, how things would've changed.
It just seems like some days fly by, where moments stand still. I know that there is a far more complex explanation to Einstein's theory of relativity.... however, the analogy of a hot stove/burning hand and the time spent in the company of a beautiful woman makes perfect sense. Pain can be drawn out too, and a difficult moment can be made to last a lifetime if handled with narcissism or angst or impatience. And uneventful experiences can simply slip by, to be lost in some sort of subconscious abyss.
I've been thinking about this occupation of teaching a great deal lately as well. For instance, whether or not I'm cut out for it, the extensive number of skills and talents that need to along with it (in order to be successful), the dedication and skill it takes to be good at it, the fact that certain things are simply innate and others have to be practiced incessantly... the fact that it's exhausting, and rewarding, and stressful.
Still, I've been told a couple things that I seem to have forgotten since I've become so bogged down with prep and marking and prep and marking... that we're here for the students... to make them into better people, better readers/writers/feelers, into thinkers, into adults. And it's the students that we're doing this for. If you like being around them, then everything else will come. I'm hoping this is the case, because sometimes I just don't know if I have what it takes (organization, work ethic, etc.). I've also been told that the two hardest things to "learn" are rapport and classroom management. Although the latter of these two still needs some work, I'm doing okay in the first department. Now, I just have to learn how to teach.
But, I have the rest of my career to figure that out. Now I guess I should just learn how to deal with limited time and limited sleep. And what I'm going to do tomorrow for class.
Stealing from Riverbend's blog...
"I'll meet you 'round the bend my friend, where hearts can heal and souls can mend"
- T
I've just been musing a lot lately. Thinking about people in the past, what they may be doing now, what they think I'm up to... wondering how things would be if I made a different decision about travelling or moving to BC or even pursuing English as a degree. Who I would've met, how things would've changed.
It just seems like some days fly by, where moments stand still. I know that there is a far more complex explanation to Einstein's theory of relativity.... however, the analogy of a hot stove/burning hand and the time spent in the company of a beautiful woman makes perfect sense. Pain can be drawn out too, and a difficult moment can be made to last a lifetime if handled with narcissism or angst or impatience. And uneventful experiences can simply slip by, to be lost in some sort of subconscious abyss.
I've been thinking about this occupation of teaching a great deal lately as well. For instance, whether or not I'm cut out for it, the extensive number of skills and talents that need to along with it (in order to be successful), the dedication and skill it takes to be good at it, the fact that certain things are simply innate and others have to be practiced incessantly... the fact that it's exhausting, and rewarding, and stressful.
Still, I've been told a couple things that I seem to have forgotten since I've become so bogged down with prep and marking and prep and marking... that we're here for the students... to make them into better people, better readers/writers/feelers, into thinkers, into adults. And it's the students that we're doing this for. If you like being around them, then everything else will come. I'm hoping this is the case, because sometimes I just don't know if I have what it takes (organization, work ethic, etc.). I've also been told that the two hardest things to "learn" are rapport and classroom management. Although the latter of these two still needs some work, I'm doing okay in the first department. Now, I just have to learn how to teach.
But, I have the rest of my career to figure that out. Now I guess I should just learn how to deal with limited time and limited sleep. And what I'm going to do tomorrow for class.
Stealing from Riverbend's blog...
"I'll meet you 'round the bend my friend, where hearts can heal and souls can mend"
- T
Thursday, October 26, 2006
My "I" Bag...
Over the summer, one of my education professors had our class do a project that she did with her high school students in English. The project was titled the "I" Bag. In it, we were expected to fill the bag with 5 things that mean something to us, whether that would be a keepsake from a trip, an old letter from a friend, a symbolic item used to represent you, a picture that means something, etc. It's a pretty personal project, but at the same time is one that really gets people to look at the things in their lives and discover the meaning. So, for my English class, I decided to assign this project for next week.
I think the project is contingent on the fact that the teacher needs to do one to as a sort of ice-breaking example. But in a way, it's a good way for people to get to know other people, and for the students to learn a little something about me. So, for the few people that read this thing, here's my "I" Bag (sorry, no pictures... maybe I'll post them soon)...
The first and most obvious item in the bag is a Canadian flag. I bought this flag (okay, maybe I stole it from the basement in my parents house) before making a four-month backpacking trip to Europe in 2002. After a year of university at the University of Lethbridge, I decided that I needed to do something that was unrelated to school. So, I took two years off from university, saved up about eight thousand dollars, and flew to Europe with a close friend, leaving my girlfriend and family at home. The names of every city and town I visited over the four months were recorded on this flag and recall a great variety of memories. It also represents the first moment in my life that I took my future into my own hands and did something I was truly passionate about. It was this decision that ultimately led me to Victoria and now here.
The second item in the "I" Bag is a t-shirt with the name "Mangrt" on it. This is actually the name of the highest paved road in Slovenia, located in Triglav National Park. Although I have not actually been on this road, this shirt was given to me by a distant relative that I met while I was on my trip. My grandparents immigrated to Canada from Slovenia in the late 1940's, and the fact that I made it to Slovenia (not speaking a word of Slovene and knowing little about what to expect) was a very important thing for me. I was very close with my grandparents, and have spent hours listening to stories from the "Old Country" that my grandmother so endearingly (and often tearfully) recalls. The shirt represents not only a part of my heritage, but provides me with a connection to my roots, my family, and the manifestation of my "pilgrimage". While I was there, I visited the homes in which my grandparents grew up (in Naklo and Skofia Loka), met many distant family members, and truly developed a sense of person to which I could connect my experiences.
The third item found in the bag is a picture of my wife, K, and myself. We were married just over a year ago, but she has been by my side as I chose to travel through Europe, when I took time off from school, when I moved to Victoria (even without her for a year!), and pursued my education and my love of literature. She's the most important person in my life, and challenges me daily to be a better person.
The fourth item is a small keychain bearing the logo of the AVA (Alberta Volleyball Association). This represents both my love of sports (particularly volleyball), as well as my connection to Alberta, where I spent the first 20 of 24 years in my life. I received this keychain about 8 years ago while playing competitive club volleyball for the Lethbridge Volleyball Club. It also reminds me of my family... particularly my brother, who I've played with on numerous occasions and who is going to be my coaching mentor now that I'm coaching a team at my host school.
The final item is a pen. It may seem banal, but connects me to my love of literature and my need to write as a way of dealing with the world... my catharsis, if you will. Through my teens and to now, I've always turned to pen and paper to deal with emotions and work out ways to interact with the world. Likewise, it represents my interest in learning about a variety of things, as well as my love for reading. There is a Biblical Proverb that reads, "It is the will of God to conceal a matter, but the glory of Kings to search out a matter". This is indicative of my pursuit of knowledge and self, and is very much a mantra that I attempt to live by.
I think the project is contingent on the fact that the teacher needs to do one to as a sort of ice-breaking example. But in a way, it's a good way for people to get to know other people, and for the students to learn a little something about me. So, for the few people that read this thing, here's my "I" Bag (sorry, no pictures... maybe I'll post them soon)...
The first and most obvious item in the bag is a Canadian flag. I bought this flag (okay, maybe I stole it from the basement in my parents house) before making a four-month backpacking trip to Europe in 2002. After a year of university at the University of Lethbridge, I decided that I needed to do something that was unrelated to school. So, I took two years off from university, saved up about eight thousand dollars, and flew to Europe with a close friend, leaving my girlfriend and family at home. The names of every city and town I visited over the four months were recorded on this flag and recall a great variety of memories. It also represents the first moment in my life that I took my future into my own hands and did something I was truly passionate about. It was this decision that ultimately led me to Victoria and now here.
The second item in the "I" Bag is a t-shirt with the name "Mangrt" on it. This is actually the name of the highest paved road in Slovenia, located in Triglav National Park. Although I have not actually been on this road, this shirt was given to me by a distant relative that I met while I was on my trip. My grandparents immigrated to Canada from Slovenia in the late 1940's, and the fact that I made it to Slovenia (not speaking a word of Slovene and knowing little about what to expect) was a very important thing for me. I was very close with my grandparents, and have spent hours listening to stories from the "Old Country" that my grandmother so endearingly (and often tearfully) recalls. The shirt represents not only a part of my heritage, but provides me with a connection to my roots, my family, and the manifestation of my "pilgrimage". While I was there, I visited the homes in which my grandparents grew up (in Naklo and Skofia Loka), met many distant family members, and truly developed a sense of person to which I could connect my experiences.
The third item found in the bag is a picture of my wife, K, and myself. We were married just over a year ago, but she has been by my side as I chose to travel through Europe, when I took time off from school, when I moved to Victoria (even without her for a year!), and pursued my education and my love of literature. She's the most important person in my life, and challenges me daily to be a better person.
The fourth item is a small keychain bearing the logo of the AVA (Alberta Volleyball Association). This represents both my love of sports (particularly volleyball), as well as my connection to Alberta, where I spent the first 20 of 24 years in my life. I received this keychain about 8 years ago while playing competitive club volleyball for the Lethbridge Volleyball Club. It also reminds me of my family... particularly my brother, who I've played with on numerous occasions and who is going to be my coaching mentor now that I'm coaching a team at my host school.
The final item is a pen. It may seem banal, but connects me to my love of literature and my need to write as a way of dealing with the world... my catharsis, if you will. Through my teens and to now, I've always turned to pen and paper to deal with emotions and work out ways to interact with the world. Likewise, it represents my interest in learning about a variety of things, as well as my love for reading. There is a Biblical Proverb that reads, "It is the will of God to conceal a matter, but the glory of Kings to search out a matter". This is indicative of my pursuit of knowledge and self, and is very much a mantra that I attempt to live by.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Sunday eve...
... and I just finished watching "Dead Poet's Society". It's been one of my favorite movies for years... probably since the first time I saw in, I think, 11th grade. I hadn't seen it in years. I actually wrote my English diploma exam on it in 12th grade, and received a perfect mark of 100%. It's kind-of a claim to fame for me, as there were only like 2 others in my grad class of 185 to do it... my best friend (also our valedictorian) and a girl who received the second or third highest grade in English in our school. She was actually a talented writer, and I acted in our senior year musical with her... however, she's one of the few people from my grad class that has passed away since high school. She died in a car accident on her way home one day, and was the one that I "saw" when I was in Belfast over east weekend in 2002. It was her ghost that I tell people I saw. To this day I find it strange that I saw someone who looked exactly like her who seemed to disappear in the crowd while I was walking down the street, thousands of miles from home on a religious holiday.
When I have memories like these, I think and wonder how I'm as lucky as I am. All the time, I hear about people who have had close friends pass away in car accidents, or pass away from suicide, or tragic illnesses. And then there's me. I've had 2 great-grandparents pass on... also the parent of one of my friends a few years ago. And then my acquaintance A.Y. in the car accident after high school. There were also a couple of students from my high school who passed away while I was still a student there, but I didn't really know them. I just think of how lucky I've been... no tragedies... no surprise deaths (beyond A.Y.). I was really sad to see my great-grandparents pass on, but it was as if they were managable, since both were very sick and both had the chance to live full lives. Few people today have even had the chance to meet their great-grandparents, or even grandparents for that matter. And I still have my great-grandpa around. Funny story... when K and I sent out invitations for the wedding last year, he was the first one to RSVP. He phoned my in-laws (who were receiving all the RSVP's) and said, "Hello! This is Howard calling! I'm T's great-grandfather! I just want to tell you that I'm coming to the wedding for T and K!". He also mentioned that he was going to be the oldest one there at 91 years old. I don't think he knew that my grandpa on my dad's side was the same age (within a few months)... Still, I think of how I have a number of relatives that have lived into their 80's and 90's, and how few of my friends/acquaintances/relatives have passed on. I've lived a charmed life for these reasons. And for many more. I won't bore you with all the details today, but it's definitely a charmed life. However, I have my issues like anyone else.
K and I were also talking last night about some things. I was asked if I was interested in helping coach a city Club Volleyball team in the new year. I mentioned that I didn't have my Level 1 certification, and T.S., the guy that runs the club and coaches one of the high school teams we play against, said that they would pay for the clinic to get certified. Definitely flattering... So I brought it up with K to see what she thought.
It's funny where the conversation went from here. She came out and told me that I better get my shit together before I think of committing myself to anything else. This volleyball season has definitely made me tired, and I'm often scrambling to get things done. The thing is, she wasn't saying it out of bitterness... she really has faith that I can do a lot more than I ever thought. I don't think I ever realized was how much faith she had in me. It's amazing... she really believes that I can do a world of things that I don't even think I can do myself. Throughout my life, people have told me that I can do a lot of things. The problem is, I really don't believe that I can do them half the time myself. I'm insecure and I second-guess myself every chance I get. I put up a facade of having everything under control... in many cases it's just an act I use to get by.
I also frustrate her with my lack of organization. Although I know I'm absent-minded and disorganized, I really always thought that I couldn't help this... that it is just how I am, and that's how I work. She told me that I should only commit to the coaching if I could get everything organized and make sure I had everything under control for the next term (where I go up to teaching a 75% load). She made it clear that there were a lot of people depending on me... not just her and us as a unit, but my students as well. At first, I was somewhat upset, that she literally told me to get my crap in line before I over-commit myself. She also came out and told me that she thought I blame too much on the fact that I'm absent-minded.
Now, it sounds somewhat harsh. But she has a point. I do everything I can to excuse my failings and my limitations because I hate living with the fact that I'm not good at something. This is part of the reason why I hate skating and avoid swimming... I'd rather stick with things that I'm comfortable doing. This goes for my absent-mindedness and my lack of organization... I've tricked myself into believing that I can't do anything about it, so I just roll with it and refuse to think about the fact that I could probably do something to fix it, or at least limit the effects of it. How to do this? I'm not certain.
I think that a lot of people do this... refuse to acknowledge their limitations and blame a whole world of things on their weaknesses. I'm not innocent. Actually, I'm probably more guilty than most. I know my weaknesses, but I don't confront them or try to do anything to fix them. Part of the reason for this is that I wouldn't know where to start. Another is simply the discomfort of challenging my demons and vanquishing them. I've always loved the story of a hero... however, I don't think I have the courage to be one myself.
I guess I should start listening to the romantic message of Dead Poet's Society...
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying."
- R. Herrick
- T
When I have memories like these, I think and wonder how I'm as lucky as I am. All the time, I hear about people who have had close friends pass away in car accidents, or pass away from suicide, or tragic illnesses. And then there's me. I've had 2 great-grandparents pass on... also the parent of one of my friends a few years ago. And then my acquaintance A.Y. in the car accident after high school. There were also a couple of students from my high school who passed away while I was still a student there, but I didn't really know them. I just think of how lucky I've been... no tragedies... no surprise deaths (beyond A.Y.). I was really sad to see my great-grandparents pass on, but it was as if they were managable, since both were very sick and both had the chance to live full lives. Few people today have even had the chance to meet their great-grandparents, or even grandparents for that matter. And I still have my great-grandpa around. Funny story... when K and I sent out invitations for the wedding last year, he was the first one to RSVP. He phoned my in-laws (who were receiving all the RSVP's) and said, "Hello! This is Howard calling! I'm T's great-grandfather! I just want to tell you that I'm coming to the wedding for T and K!". He also mentioned that he was going to be the oldest one there at 91 years old. I don't think he knew that my grandpa on my dad's side was the same age (within a few months)... Still, I think of how I have a number of relatives that have lived into their 80's and 90's, and how few of my friends/acquaintances/relatives have passed on. I've lived a charmed life for these reasons. And for many more. I won't bore you with all the details today, but it's definitely a charmed life. However, I have my issues like anyone else.
K and I were also talking last night about some things. I was asked if I was interested in helping coach a city Club Volleyball team in the new year. I mentioned that I didn't have my Level 1 certification, and T.S., the guy that runs the club and coaches one of the high school teams we play against, said that they would pay for the clinic to get certified. Definitely flattering... So I brought it up with K to see what she thought.
It's funny where the conversation went from here. She came out and told me that I better get my shit together before I think of committing myself to anything else. This volleyball season has definitely made me tired, and I'm often scrambling to get things done. The thing is, she wasn't saying it out of bitterness... she really has faith that I can do a lot more than I ever thought. I don't think I ever realized was how much faith she had in me. It's amazing... she really believes that I can do a world of things that I don't even think I can do myself. Throughout my life, people have told me that I can do a lot of things. The problem is, I really don't believe that I can do them half the time myself. I'm insecure and I second-guess myself every chance I get. I put up a facade of having everything under control... in many cases it's just an act I use to get by.
I also frustrate her with my lack of organization. Although I know I'm absent-minded and disorganized, I really always thought that I couldn't help this... that it is just how I am, and that's how I work. She told me that I should only commit to the coaching if I could get everything organized and make sure I had everything under control for the next term (where I go up to teaching a 75% load). She made it clear that there were a lot of people depending on me... not just her and us as a unit, but my students as well. At first, I was somewhat upset, that she literally told me to get my crap in line before I over-commit myself. She also came out and told me that she thought I blame too much on the fact that I'm absent-minded.
Now, it sounds somewhat harsh. But she has a point. I do everything I can to excuse my failings and my limitations because I hate living with the fact that I'm not good at something. This is part of the reason why I hate skating and avoid swimming... I'd rather stick with things that I'm comfortable doing. This goes for my absent-mindedness and my lack of organization... I've tricked myself into believing that I can't do anything about it, so I just roll with it and refuse to think about the fact that I could probably do something to fix it, or at least limit the effects of it. How to do this? I'm not certain.
I think that a lot of people do this... refuse to acknowledge their limitations and blame a whole world of things on their weaknesses. I'm not innocent. Actually, I'm probably more guilty than most. I know my weaknesses, but I don't confront them or try to do anything to fix them. Part of the reason for this is that I wouldn't know where to start. Another is simply the discomfort of challenging my demons and vanquishing them. I've always loved the story of a hero... however, I don't think I have the courage to be one myself.
I guess I should start listening to the romantic message of Dead Poet's Society...
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying."
- R. Herrick
- T
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
The Absent-Minded Professor
Yep, you guessed it... that's me. Particularly when I haven't been sleeping terribly well.
I had a stack of marking that I was planning to do last night which I THOUGHT I had in one of my school bags. I went to organize my binders and my notes and take out this ugly stack of marking when I realized that it wasn't in either of my bags. I looked in the spare room (a.k.a. my office) and didn't see it. I then got really frustrated and thought that I left it all at school.
I then showed up at school this morning and realized that, WAIT! It wasn't here either! I checked my work station in our staff prep room, and there was nothing. I then checked my classrooms and again... nothing. So I start to freak out. Here I am, pursuing my career and trying to prove to my occupational peers that I'm a reasonably responsible adult who has his crap together and knows how important things like student unit tests should NEVER be lost. Oh, what a facade I'm carrying on! Needless to say, I could feel an influx of stomach acid rising in my gut, so much so that while looking for this big pile of marking, I'm also trying to locate my industrial-sized container of Tums.
Finally after having no luck, I call home. K's my saviour, since she's always the one who receives those frantic 8:15am calls about the fact that I lost something or misplaced something or forgot something. Sure enough, within 15 seconds of calling her and listening to me swearing like a sailor about how much of a dumbass I am, she found the stack sitting (I'm not even lying) right on my office desk. I had taken it home two nights ago and neglected to bring it back yesterday, even though I thought I had everything when I left for school.
Another brief story to reinforce the fact that I'm a little thick (in the head more than the waist) took place in my social class... I told the class about a current events assignment that I wanted them to do when I was in the class last week. This week, I anticipated there would be some questions so I made sure I had a freshly typed-up assignment ready to go for them in case they were a little confused of my explanation last week. So yesterday, before class, I look around for this awesomely fun sheet (it was called The Barn Burnin' Current Events Smackdown... I was a little proud of it!) to hand out. Could I find it? If you answered yes, you're obviously skimming a little too much of this rant! So, in my haste to get to class on time, I quickly type up a terrible remake of the assignment to hand out. No big deal.
However, as I was organizing my notes/binders last night, what did I come across? You probably guessed it... my Barn Burnin' Current Events Smackdown sheet. Yes, I'm thick. It was right in the middle of my Current Events section of my teaching binder. I mentioned Jeff Foxworthy a week or two ago. He would've handed me my "Stupid" sign and the crowd would've laughed heartily.
- T
I had a stack of marking that I was planning to do last night which I THOUGHT I had in one of my school bags. I went to organize my binders and my notes and take out this ugly stack of marking when I realized that it wasn't in either of my bags. I looked in the spare room (a.k.a. my office) and didn't see it. I then got really frustrated and thought that I left it all at school.
I then showed up at school this morning and realized that, WAIT! It wasn't here either! I checked my work station in our staff prep room, and there was nothing. I then checked my classrooms and again... nothing. So I start to freak out. Here I am, pursuing my career and trying to prove to my occupational peers that I'm a reasonably responsible adult who has his crap together and knows how important things like student unit tests should NEVER be lost. Oh, what a facade I'm carrying on! Needless to say, I could feel an influx of stomach acid rising in my gut, so much so that while looking for this big pile of marking, I'm also trying to locate my industrial-sized container of Tums.
Finally after having no luck, I call home. K's my saviour, since she's always the one who receives those frantic 8:15am calls about the fact that I lost something or misplaced something or forgot something. Sure enough, within 15 seconds of calling her and listening to me swearing like a sailor about how much of a dumbass I am, she found the stack sitting (I'm not even lying) right on my office desk. I had taken it home two nights ago and neglected to bring it back yesterday, even though I thought I had everything when I left for school.
Another brief story to reinforce the fact that I'm a little thick (in the head more than the waist) took place in my social class... I told the class about a current events assignment that I wanted them to do when I was in the class last week. This week, I anticipated there would be some questions so I made sure I had a freshly typed-up assignment ready to go for them in case they were a little confused of my explanation last week. So yesterday, before class, I look around for this awesomely fun sheet (it was called The Barn Burnin' Current Events Smackdown... I was a little proud of it!) to hand out. Could I find it? If you answered yes, you're obviously skimming a little too much of this rant! So, in my haste to get to class on time, I quickly type up a terrible remake of the assignment to hand out. No big deal.
However, as I was organizing my notes/binders last night, what did I come across? You probably guessed it... my Barn Burnin' Current Events Smackdown sheet. Yes, I'm thick. It was right in the middle of my Current Events section of my teaching binder. I mentioned Jeff Foxworthy a week or two ago. He would've handed me my "Stupid" sign and the crowd would've laughed heartily.
- T
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Fatigue, Stress, and anxiety... I love this job...
Did the title come off as sarcastic? It was supposed to be... well, maybe just a bit. Not totally though. Just a touch.
This new life and career pursuit has set off a couple nights of restless partial insomnia, keeping me dreaming about the students in my class having it out for me and the fact that I feel like I'm treading water some days. I feel that everyone else has everything under control and I'm doing this miserable job at times. Even though I know thats not the case (at least, not all the time), it still doesn't prevent the panic-stricken rush of trying to have photocopies together and ready to go and prepared before you enter the fray at 8:59:59a.m. Sure, I'm at the school an hour before the students walk into the classroom, but every minute counts, especially when you're dragging your ass to begin with.
I spent the day marking English exams with other teachers from the district. We did a district-wide, formative test assessment in all of the English classes in the district as a way of guaging where the students were, what needed work, and what teachers could focus on. They were marked collectively by our group as a way of keeping the marks honest and indulging a little bit in the process of what it's like to mark provincial exams at the end of the term.
I thought it was going to be boring, but it was actually somewhat enjoyable. I'm pretty good at just being on my own, so sitting down in a big room with a stack of marking and little stress about the results made for an enjoyable day. My fellow markers were supportive, some of the papers were thoroughly entertaining (one kid said that cell phone waves exploded gas stations, another said they're good to prevent kidnappings, and another said that they were vital in case Brad Pitt was on the side of the road looking for a date!), and we receieved a free lunch. Those of you who know me well know that I'm easy to bribe... just give me free stuff, particularly food. What can I say... I'm a bit of a food floosy.
However, I must end the rant here because I have a boatload of work to go before I'm allowed to let my head hit the pillow. 5:56am comes early when the wife is rolling you out of bed so she can sleep for a few more minutes while I'm in the shower. Yet, this is a wonderful thing... I'm one of those people who had to put the alarm across the room just so I would have to physically get up and out of bed to turn off the blaring hair metal, and even that doesn't prevent a return to the warm sheets that call my name so softly. It's like a hotel wake up call, only better. Minus the bruised hips from the fall off the bed.
- T
This new life and career pursuit has set off a couple nights of restless partial insomnia, keeping me dreaming about the students in my class having it out for me and the fact that I feel like I'm treading water some days. I feel that everyone else has everything under control and I'm doing this miserable job at times. Even though I know thats not the case (at least, not all the time), it still doesn't prevent the panic-stricken rush of trying to have photocopies together and ready to go and prepared before you enter the fray at 8:59:59a.m. Sure, I'm at the school an hour before the students walk into the classroom, but every minute counts, especially when you're dragging your ass to begin with.
I spent the day marking English exams with other teachers from the district. We did a district-wide, formative test assessment in all of the English classes in the district as a way of guaging where the students were, what needed work, and what teachers could focus on. They were marked collectively by our group as a way of keeping the marks honest and indulging a little bit in the process of what it's like to mark provincial exams at the end of the term.
I thought it was going to be boring, but it was actually somewhat enjoyable. I'm pretty good at just being on my own, so sitting down in a big room with a stack of marking and little stress about the results made for an enjoyable day. My fellow markers were supportive, some of the papers were thoroughly entertaining (one kid said that cell phone waves exploded gas stations, another said they're good to prevent kidnappings, and another said that they were vital in case Brad Pitt was on the side of the road looking for a date!), and we receieved a free lunch. Those of you who know me well know that I'm easy to bribe... just give me free stuff, particularly food. What can I say... I'm a bit of a food floosy.
However, I must end the rant here because I have a boatload of work to go before I'm allowed to let my head hit the pillow. 5:56am comes early when the wife is rolling you out of bed so she can sleep for a few more minutes while I'm in the shower. Yet, this is a wonderful thing... I'm one of those people who had to put the alarm across the room just so I would have to physically get up and out of bed to turn off the blaring hair metal, and even that doesn't prevent a return to the warm sheets that call my name so softly. It's like a hotel wake up call, only better. Minus the bruised hips from the fall off the bed.
- T
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