Things that interest no one but myself:
I got to go back into my classroom again. It did not look as I left it, but it still felt like my heart jumped out of my chest when I opened the door.
The IT guy was skulking about in my room when I got there. I'd asked for any kind of old printer to hook up to my student work station so my kids could print things... instead they gave me some swanky new printer that is all networked up. Score!
In my quest for something as simple as a rolling cart for my antique old overhead projector, the darling librarian gave me an actual projector and an ELMO 3D presenter -- neither of which she is supposed to check out for year long use, but she did it for me, just 'cuz. I'm all tekkied up! Last year I got the worst of the worst, and this year I am moving up the technological ladder. No more transparencies, I can utilize any color object that will fit on the board, and I can hook my lappy up for presentations. I can't even begin to wrap my head around the potential, but I am ecstatic. (I told you this was interesting to no one but me.)
I looked at my roster for my one 11th grade class, and I have around ten students from last years 10th grade classes, about three of whom were absolute favorite students, four were decent kids and students, and three who weren't absolute pills. I literally jumped for joy. Not figuratively. Literally.
I plugged my ipod into my speakers and danced around as I rearranged my classroom, tearing down pages and breaking down walls. I know I am there, I am in, I am not transient, it is MY space, it is MY future. I am full of strategy, and pedagogy, and positivity, and enthusiasm.
Instruction starts in four days.
I start my chest piece in seven.
I hit a perfect ten. I could write the ultimate book of love on the back of matchbooks -- small but inflammatory.
I'm getting chubby, but I don't care! There is a reason for the phrase "Fat and Happy."
Besides, the 7 to 11 schedule will whittle the weight away in no time.
If all goes as planned, I, and my chub, will traipse through the desert in about two weeks. Half-naked and half reborn. It is all like living life with virgin skin.
I am still kind of stuck in insomnia, but I don't care. Hours slept are hours wasted. I've been listening to "I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning," almost nonstop. I cherish my dreams, but waking up constantly is more satisfying. Every three minutes I find myself awakening from dreams and nightmares, and confronting the most blinding dawns that promise exquisitely long and adventurous days.
Sometimes I cannot believe how beautiful things can be. I can't tell where happiness starts, and where happiness is created.
I am infinite.
Sorry. More hippie shit.
I got to go back into my classroom again. It did not look as I left it, but it still felt like my heart jumped out of my chest when I opened the door.
The IT guy was skulking about in my room when I got there. I'd asked for any kind of old printer to hook up to my student work station so my kids could print things... instead they gave me some swanky new printer that is all networked up. Score!
In my quest for something as simple as a rolling cart for my antique old overhead projector, the darling librarian gave me an actual projector and an ELMO 3D presenter -- neither of which she is supposed to check out for year long use, but she did it for me, just 'cuz. I'm all tekkied up! Last year I got the worst of the worst, and this year I am moving up the technological ladder. No more transparencies, I can utilize any color object that will fit on the board, and I can hook my lappy up for presentations. I can't even begin to wrap my head around the potential, but I am ecstatic. (I told you this was interesting to no one but me.)
I looked at my roster for my one 11th grade class, and I have around ten students from last years 10th grade classes, about three of whom were absolute favorite students, four were decent kids and students, and three who weren't absolute pills. I literally jumped for joy. Not figuratively. Literally.
I plugged my ipod into my speakers and danced around as I rearranged my classroom, tearing down pages and breaking down walls. I know I am there, I am in, I am not transient, it is MY space, it is MY future. I am full of strategy, and pedagogy, and positivity, and enthusiasm.
Instruction starts in four days.
I start my chest piece in seven.
I hit a perfect ten. I could write the ultimate book of love on the back of matchbooks -- small but inflammatory.
I'm getting chubby, but I don't care! There is a reason for the phrase "Fat and Happy."
Besides, the 7 to 11 schedule will whittle the weight away in no time.
If all goes as planned, I, and my chub, will traipse through the desert in about two weeks. Half-naked and half reborn. It is all like living life with virgin skin.
I am still kind of stuck in insomnia, but I don't care. Hours slept are hours wasted. I've been listening to "I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning," almost nonstop. I cherish my dreams, but waking up constantly is more satisfying. Every three minutes I find myself awakening from dreams and nightmares, and confronting the most blinding dawns that promise exquisitely long and adventurous days.
Sometimes I cannot believe how beautiful things can be. I can't tell where happiness starts, and where happiness is created.
I am infinite.
Sorry. More hippie shit.
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and if charlielove can't get you laid she'll do it herself