Putting shame in your game

I want way too much.  

Yep, only 1 paper to go.  Excitement is building!  I have me a nice little pub crawl to look forward to, too.

Dudes, I just need you to know that I feel way better about myself, and my ability to work hard and get shit done.  I shouldn't have to work so hard to realize this about myself, but there you have it.

Also, future blog post: teaching in Korea?  More on that to come.

Because this made me laugh.  A LOT.  I tried to stop and remind myself that dolphins are cute, I have nothing against dolphins, I eat dolphin-free tuna, etc.  But all I can picture are two dolphins colliding in midair, America's Funniest Home Videos-style, and the Flipper-like noises that emanate from their mouths as they fall back to the water in surprise and people in the stands gasp in horror.  I just edit out the whole death thing every time, which is way better than the reality.  It's like finding out that those guys in Jackass get seriously hurt after their retarded stunts or that guy who fell off his dirt bike in an awesome way was paralyzed for life: TOTALLY NOT FUNNY. 

4th Grade English assignment: Use the words "linger" and "uproar" in a poem.

The wind numbs the world
With a touch of her finger
And then she orders
The cold to linger.

The wind is an invisible pony
Who rushes past your skin
And makes you feel
Chilly secrets within.

The wind is very powerful
As all of us can see
She causes deadly uproar
Between each and every tree.

April is going to be a bitch of a month.  I've got two three end-of-semester projects, 26 student evaluations to write, and last shreds of sanity to grasp at desperately. Oh, and some exercising to do. Oy.

But I also have: friends to see, vacations to take, and fun to have. 

And when it's all said and done, I hereby claim the right to crown myself the Queen of Productivity and Awesome-ness.  And then I will sleep for a week.

8:25 AM: My daily walk from the bus stop to work. It's the type of chilly morning that New Englanders describe as raw (or "rawr", depending on the thickness of the accent).  I see a mom and her son walking two Basset hounds who are both Very Excited to be walking! Outside!  I smile and say good morning as I pass.

10:35 AM:  One of my Creative Writing students jokingly describes her classmate as a douche, and I nod solemnly at this highly inappropriate characterization.  Stunned silence, then laughter.

 Lunch time: I run to the copy machine to make a few quick copies for my next class.  The copier is jammed.  I instantly go from slightly frazzled to PISSED.  Somebody walked away from a jammed copier and made no efforts to rectify the situation? W.T.F.  After lots of mutttered swears and dirty looks, the fucking copier is finally fucking unjammed.  I punch copier buttons in my best "Don't FUCK with me" manner. I carry a grudge.

1:30 PM:  The school nurse, who is one of the best people on Earth, calls me in my classroom to tell me that she jammed the copier and didn't know it.  She apologizes profusely.  I am an ass.

4:05 PM: I nod my way through another Awesome Meeting.  Let me sum up all of these meetings for you: "X student is highly anxious and depressed.  He/she/ze doesn't accept compliments and praise well, so be sure to be specific when you praise him/her/xem for doing their homework.  Also, go slowly because he/she/ze has a learning disability."  FINIS.

7:00 PM: Monday night grad class.  My professor is fond of the following phrases, in no particular order:

-"jazzed"

-"folks"

-"big ideas"

-"cats", e.g. "Let me tell you about this educational theorist.  This cat's name is Jerome Bruner."

Bonus points if he uses them all in one sentence.

9:35 PM: Walking out of class to the parking garage, I'm transfixed by a Gothic-style streetlight which is shining a diffused yellow light through bare tree branches.  Very Edward Gorey, very Victorian.  Swoon.

It's surprising how fun and enlightening it can be to talk to someone who is passionate about the things you're interested in, to talk with someone about ideas only, not pedagogy or problematic students.  I learn so much from talking with others; when I'm by myself, my ideas swim and run and mush together into incoherent half-thoughts.  But when I can share it, laugh about it, discuss it--that's when ideas come alive for me.  That's why I like being a student so much--I get to do so much of that.  I get to be around people who (hopefully) feel the same, who are just as excited and curious as I am.  It's a shame that I don't get more chances to do that in my work.  Teaching doesn't always lend itself to deep conversations or life-changing moments.  The work is more incremental and steady.  When I do get those opportunities, it's a rare gift.  It's a great reminder of why I do what I do, and what the ultimate goal of my work should be.

Feeling weird and slightly stir-crazy today, but yet also extremely tired.

Feeling much better today.  Emotional state and physical state are very intertwined for me, so when I'm feeling physically crappy it's ALL over for me.  Add to that my extremely black and white outlook on life and you've got a recipe for mental drama and tears for very little reason.  Or, to be more specific, there's a reason for tears, but I'll be too emotional to recognize that the tears are pitying and self-serving.  They're not really achieving the catharsis that tears should achieve; it's just blubbering.

So, that bullshit that I've been dealing with for 10 years?  It's actually been more like 25 (almost 26!) years, as it has to do with a family member who has a number of "issues", as they're fondly known as.  On one level, it makes sense that I still feel so upset about everything that has happened with this person.  I love her and want her to get help, to stop being that crazy relative that I'm so ashamed of sometimes, to don the mantle of smart professor and witty intellectual and cast away the neediness and lying.  But, on another level, I feel that my emotional involvement can be too much at times; I can only expect/do so much. Her situation has very little to do with mine, no matter how much genetic material I share with her. Like my man Jimmy McNulty says, "It is what it is."  The sooner I can take that to heart, the better.

In keeping with my mood today, here's a great piece from one of my favorite poets that I've been thinking about all day (ignore the wankerish article that it's quoted in).  .