wordinista

Dude.  There is no excuse.  No. Excuse.  For a 10 year old child being completely unable to read.  I'm talking "has a hard time identifying which sounds go with which letters" unable-to-read.

And you know what?  It wouldn't be so bad if the kid actually cared and actually wanted to work, but oh my sweet monkey jebus, getting this kid to do work is like pulling teeth.  From a rock.

Actual dialogue from work tonight:

Me:  "So here we've got the letter combination 'sm.'"
Kid:  "Yeah."
Me:  "Can you tell me any words that begin with 'sm'?"
Kid:  *long, long pause, during which time he looks all around the class, then periodically back to me to see if I'm still paying attention; I AM*  ...I dunno.  Whatever.
Me:  *counts to ten, stays positive*  What do you do when someone takes a picture of you?
Kid:  Oh.  Uh.  Smile.

NO JOKE.  This went on for the first whole hour of the session.  Mind you, I'm meant to be dividing my time up equally among 3 kids.  This one was SUCH a time-sucker.  I'd ask him to do something while I worked with the other kids, and when I got back to him, he'd done nothing.  And when I say, "do something" it's like, "Please write down three words that begin with the letters 'st.'"

Me:  "...You haven't done any of your work yet?"
Kid:  "Yeah, I don't know how to do it."
Me:  ".............."

DUDE.  KILL ME NOW.

I know I mentioned the "shoujo sparkles" caricature of Darwin I got done last week.  The scanner's broken, but we were able to take a pretty decent picture of the drawing:

( Here it is! My sparkly boy! )

Thanksgiving was wonderfully drama-free.  The only thing Tora's parents did that was even remotely annoying was monopolize his brother's time so he wasn't able to come and see us at all while he was in town.  Tora talked on the phone with him once and basically told him not to sweat it, and that if he got here, great, but if he didn't/couldn't make it, not to stress.  I, however, am rolling my eyes at their rampant immaturity. 

Today we're thinking about taking Darwin to the park.  Tora's a bit resistant to this plan, because he's such a nervous "dad" whenever we go to the dog park. He's so afraid Darwin will get hurt, or hurt another dog.  I love watching him play with the other puppies, and as long as the other owners are keeping a watchful eye out, I've found there's usually never a problem.  I'm going to keep trying to get Tora to come around (though my only problem with the dog park is that Darwin is usually filthy afterwards, and he just had a bath on Tuesday, argh).

Things at Sylvan are settling into more of a routine.  I went through training to tutor basic math, and the only thing I have next is training for writing, which will take me no time at all, I'm sure.  (I'm wondering why they had me do math next, instead of writing, but I'm figuring they might need math people more than they need writing people, or something.)

And all of you sniggering about me teaching math... well, keep sniggering.  I'm sticking to basic math, up to a 5th or 6th grade level. I've told them not to trust me with algebra or geometry or anything of the sort. 

The work is actually quite enjoyable, for the most part.  Sometimes there are challenging students, but nothing I can't handle.  There's an element of time management/multi-tasking that I need to get a handle on, but everyone's assured me that that's a skill that comes with practice.

Writing has been going... pretty well, actually.  I got quite a bit written for OGAM and Bump, and I've been working a bit on my original fiction (things have been so stressful lately, the fact that I can write ANYTHING is a major relief).  UT is stalled for the moment as I try and figure something out (the focus seems to have shifted away from the two main characters and onto two other characters, and I didn't want that to happen -- so it needs figuring out).  I've also figured out a plot for a different thing I'm working on (*cough*vampires*cough*), and that makes me happy, because until this week, there had been an utter LACK of plot.  Just a bunch of nifty characters hanging around my head all, "You should totally write about us!"  So that's good.  I'd really love to start on my Yuletide fic sometime soon.  I thought I had my plot settled, but I realized something problematic, so I have to reconsider a few things, dammit.  I'm not going to start panicking until Dec. 1.  That's usually when I start freaking out if I haven't started writing yet.

....And I just realized that I have an economics paper due in something like two weeks.  Crud.

I am officially gainfully employed.  And I'll be teaching again, sort of -- on a smaller scale, which is fine by me.

Your Linguistic Profile:

40% General American English

40% Yankee

15% Dixie

5% Upper Midwestern

0% Midwestern

This is ... interesting, since I was born in New Hampshire and moved to Florida when I was fifteen. I was consequently teased for having a "Yankee" accent, which, ironically, made me hold on to it more. I do say "y'all," but I believe that's my only concession to the regional dialect. :D

Bleh. I so do not feel like studying for Art History. ... I think I require caffeine.

Oh -- to all who replied to my meme the other day: I'll have interview questions for you... soon. Cramming now.

Hmm. There was something else amusing that I wanted to share. *taps chin*

Oh!

In my Comp II class, we're reading "The Importance of Being Earnest," which is probably my all-time favorite Wilde piece. And, as with "Othello," I'm making students choose roles and read the play out loud in class. When we got to the point where folks were supposed to volunteer for the parts of Gwendolyn and Cecily, no one was volunteering.

No girls, at least.

Finally, one boy's hand goes up. "I'll read it. What the hell, right? Girls read guy parts in Othello." (Which is true.) So, he's my Gwendolyn.

Another guy's hand goes up. "Sure, why not? I'll be Cecily."

Mind you, the first boy is... total class clown. The second boy is ... VERY masculine. A deep, deep voice. A "guy's guy," so to speak.

I have never. Laughed. SO HARD. EVAR.

They were totally playing it up -- the class was DYING. It was fantastic. And I was observed today (for the second time in a semester, which confuses me), but my peer observer spoke with me after class (she also happens to be my mentor AND my Art History professor), and was like, "Oh my god, what was FABULOUS."

Me: "And yet... oddly appropriate. The Importance of Being Earnest, as done by an all-male cast."

K: "Indeed. Oscar would be proud."

*giggles* It's the end of the semester and I'm getting punchy. Is it obvious?

...Rant ahead. Be prepared.

Okay. So, I teach, right? In fact, I had the BEST DAY at work today. BEST. Today was seriously one of those "I love my job" days. My Brit Lit class finished reading "Pride and Prejudice" EARLY!!!

They READ AHEAD! We can start viewing the BBC movie version on Monday! *cheers* Colin Firth. *sigh* Colin Firth in wet, period clothing. I'll try and control myself in front of the class and NOT pause it at the part where he dives in the lake. ^__^

They were also collectively indignant when they found out they almost had "Dracula" on the syllabus, but that the Dept. Chair advised against 4 novels on a syllabus. They want to finish ALL the readings early so we can tack Dracula on at the end. And, no, I'm not kidding. And, apparently, neither were they.

Have I mentioned how much I love this class? Seriously. Work was so good today.

But, the home part of it? *rolls eyes* I love my mother dearly, but she. is. driving. me. NUTS!

See, she injured her shoulder at Thanksgiving. And it ached her ALL THROUGH Christmas and New Years. I mean... she couldn't lift her arm above her head. So, I was a good daughter and helped her. I mean, I was off work, right? Why not? She refused to go to a doctor, and has since been diagnosing herself on WebMD. (*sigh*)

I can understand the doctor issues -- she stopped working to go back to school and get her graduate degree. So, no insurance. But, there are times when you have to suck it up and just go to the goddamn doctor. This would be one of those times.

So, my entire Christmas break was more or less spent helping my mother, who was DETERMINED to bake enough to feed a small army. Would she accept help? No. Did this bother me? Hell yes.

Anyway. It's now almost February. Apparently Mom has a sprained rotator cuff. It's better though -- a LOT better than Christmas, which is a huge relief.

The problem? I'm still picking up all the housework slack. See, I didn't mind keeping up with laundry and dishes and picking up after my grandfather. (Okay, so I minded when the kitchen got shot to hell RIGHT AFTER I cleaned it, and would have to clean it again, but I digress.)

Let me clarify. I am the ONLY one in this house with a regular, stable job that requires me to get up in the morning and actually WORK. (I love my job, yes, but still -- it's not particularly easy.) George is busy getting his freelance portfolio together, and working on a few freelancey type jobs. Mom is taking one class a week and working on getting a business off the ground. He actually does most of his work in the wee hours, because that's when he does his best work. Mom pitter-patters most of the day and works on her stuff in the early evening.

The LAST thing I want to deal with when I come home is a sink full of dirty dishes and a full, clean dishwasher and a kitchen that looks like the Tazmanian Devil ran through. Nor do I want to come home to Mt. Clothesmore on the living room couch.

Now, on the surface, yes, I probably sound bitchy and unreasonable, because, after all, my mother is injured.

Except for the part where I caught her "touching up" the kitchen walls. Like, with paint. And a paintbrush. O____O!!!! And she's been doing other little Martha-Stewart-esque things to the house lately (and, gods, I HATE Martha Stewart).

So. I now put my foot down.

[.....]

DAMMIT! So much for putting the foot down. I'm taking her grocery shopping tomorrow. (Apparently she overdid it today. *sigh*)

Anyway. The foot being down. I was going to say that I'm determined NOT to be the FIRST one to swoop in and clean up when it's needed or otherwise swing to the rescue.

God, I'm such a fucking doormat some days. But, really -- she's my mom. Annoying me -- yes. She is. But she's my mother. And, yes, some days I have a hard time having sympathy, because she insists on overdoing it (and she's got a BAD habit of leaving her heating pad on). And ever since the Sam's Club debacle (which involved her overstocking her car until it was bottoming out, which led us to have to drop george off in the middle of some redneck neighborhood while we drove HOME and I went BACK to get him before he had a "Deliverance" interlude), I've had a hard time feeling bad for her (b/c, really -- total "Deliverance" neighborhood -- I could HEAR "Dueling Banjos"). But then I feel guilty for being angry with her, and then I get annoyed with myself for feeling guilty, and then I feel guilty AGAIN because I feel annoyed.

Did I ever mention I'm a former Catholic? Lotsa guilt, there.

So, it looks like I'm taking Mom grocery shopping tomorrow. Here's hoping it takes less than three hours. -__-

*rant over*

Tart, crunchy, and yet sweet. And good for you, too!


What Snack Food are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

...actually, I had to take it more than once. I am not a donut, dammit!

Well -- a full week, done and over with. I do think this Friday class is going to kick my ass. Imagine trying to talk about something as dull as "intro to composition" for two hours and forty-five freaking minutes! I was going hoarse by the end of it, and my brain was shutting down. I couldn't even formulate a full sentence. My brain was oatmeal. I was up too late last night (again) and had to get up too early this morning (again).

On a happy note -- Evvie's back from Europe! Yay!! *Niamh is STILL dancing around in a little circle, tossing confetti*

Alas, I'm still thwacking my head against the next OGAM chapter. Eugh. I've promised myself that I'll wait for Ev to get over her jet lag before I turn the big sad eyes on her, but it's sooo hard! (I think I'm going to try to seduce her into the fold of the LJ... wish me luck.)

Evvie's coming back from Europe this week! Yay!

Seriously, I had no idea how MUCH I talked with her until I didn't. Of course, I was surprised to learn that I procrastinate just as much when she's not on AIM as when she is. I figured I'd get all sorts of work done (like, real work, as opposed to OGAM work). But I've found new and interesting ways to avoid doing work. So if nothing else, I'm resourceful in my timewasting skills.

Witness one such timewasting outlet: This blog.

Well, the Brit Lit class had it's first actual class yesterday, and it was AWESOME. They were already discussing the book before I'd even started taking attendance! (Attendance, by the way, consists of quickly counting to see if there are actually eleven bodies warming the chairs.) It was so freaking fantastic. The class flew by. Class never flies by for me. I'm always struggling to make it stretch, and... all of a sudden I looked at my watch and realized that class was OVER. It was kinda cool, actually. At no point did I ask a question and get the glazed-over-roadkill look in return. Maybe this is positive karmic payback for last semester's hell classes. Because THIS is what I dreamed of when I decided I wanted to teach.

*happysigh*

Maybe if I offered to bear the campus president's child I'd get to keep the class. Hmm. Of course, campus president is bald and somewhat resembles a Muppet... Well, I'll find out tomorrow if I get to keep the class or not. I'd like to think that they'd tell me before NOW, but I've learned not to put anything past these yahoos.

One small problem, and I don't know if it's due to work or what, but I've been having a beeyotch of a time doing anything that has anything to do with fic or writing. I know I've got a chapter to write, but I can't seem to make myself think about it, much less write it. I've got a few other small things I want to write as well, but inspiration seems to be at an all-time low. Sometimes stepping away from it works, other times making myself write and working all the garbage out of my system works too. We'll see what works. I just know I'm having a hard time thinking creatively. Maybe it's the school semester starting up, maybe it's worries about the PhD applications, and maybe -- just maybe, coming back home has finally worn on me. I love my mother, I do -- and I get along with her. But I think I need to love her at a distance. Because you CAN be too close to the ones you love.

The wedding is a perfect example. I told her in JULY that I didn't think it was the right time to have a wedding. George and I hadn't saved up anything, and I knew I wasn't going to have time to PLAN the damned thing. Besides which, I'm so freaking disorganized, it's not funny. So Mom, being the Virgo that she is, said she'd plan everything. Sounds great, right?

Wrong.

Mom's got a bad habit of making promises like that to get me to go along with whatever she wants. So, she said she'd take care of the planning, and I agreed. This was July. NOTHING -- and I repeat: NOTHING has been done. Nothing. At all.

And she's still telling people George and I are getting married in May? WTF? HOW? WHERE?

So, eloping has been the hot topic of the month between me and the boy. We've been dating for going on ten years. It's kind of ridiculous NOT to get married. But what's even more ridiculous is what's unfolding right now. We agreed to getting married in May after Mom assured us (practically crying, mind you) that everything would be taken care of. I gave her names of vendors, people to call, what have you. Nothing. Nothing's been done. And when I brought up putting it off for six months? She nearly broke down into tears.

I think I'm being manipulated, and I have no freakin' idea to what end. WHY? What does she have to gain, here?

If I'd known it was going to turn out like this, I would've put my foot down in July. Either that, or I would've gone into this knowing I'd be doing every freaking thing MYSELF. And I would've done it myself.

Actually, being a firm believer in "If you want something done right, do it yourself," I can't believe I agreed to let her handle it. But, ya know, it's my mom. And I should be able to trust my mom, right?

But she's done this my whole life. She's made these great pie-in-the-sky promises ever since I was a kid, and she so seldom follows through with them. I usually just deal with it, and I usually find a way to make things work on my own, but I just didn't think she'd slip back into the same old M.O. when it came to her only child's wedding.

But, when all is said and done, it is my wedding, and if George and I want to elope, we're damned well going to elope.

It just pisses me off, because all of this time that's passed could've been USED to freaking PLAN. I can't tell you how many times I've sat down with her to talk/plan about wedding stuff, and got blown off.

Grrr. I'm never, never letting her talk me into anything again. I mean, yeah, it was a given we were going to get married. But instead of standing our collective ground and saying, "Not this year," we were both suckered in by a teary-eyed guilt trip.

And, wow, I think I've discovered the root of my inability to concentrate on writing.

Normally I'd say, "I'm going to sit down and talk with her about this." But I know it's not going to do any good. I can't frickin' count on her.

So, elopement -- sounding good, no?

Could I just say for a moment how much I freaking HATE making up a syllabus for each class? Please?

Four classes.

Two Comp 1 classes. One held twice a week, one held once a week.

One Comp 2 class. Twice a week.

One Brit Lit class (*still crossing fingers -- haven't heard from Phil yet*), twice a week.

First run through: I forgot to include a school inservice for the once-a-week class.

Second run through: I forgot to include MLK Day for the other three classes.

Third run through: I realized somewhere along the line the dates got FUBARed. Had to re-date all FOUR syllabi.

And... for some reason I've yet to figure out, the twice a week Comp 1 class has exactly the same amount of work as the once a week class... and yet the way the work is distributed, it looks like they've got less. This probably wouldn't be so confusing to me if it weren't midnight.

I think I've got them all squared away now. I'm just waiting for everything to print out and then I'm going to go fall over. Something about dealing with dates makes my brain feel like it's liquifying in my skull. Numbers. Bleurgh.

Ooh! Syllabi, all printed out and pretty! And I didn't run out of ink OR paper!!

*thud*