|
| Moving....I am moving my regular blog to my livejournal site. I will be blogging there regularly about once a week. I am experimenting with writing and have a writing schedule.
http://flyintodarkness.livejournal.com/
| | |
| Holidays?My brother is still at Boot Camp and will be until January 5th. My mother has decided we do not need to celebrate the holidays without him.
I am going to drop out of college.
I have fibromyalgia. (my mother's disease)
I have never been more manic depressive in my life. One week everything is the best ever and the next week I want to die. I am so scared Rory is going to get tired of holding my hand.
I need massive change. The type of change where I drop my Macomb identity and find "happy" permanently. (I have been mistaken for a Macombie once a week for the past two semesters and usually by Macombies)
peace and caffeine,
Sarah. | | |
| My New Philosophy on LifeThis is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again
-"On The Radio" by Regina Spektor | | |
| Backbeats and Runny NosesI learned some new things about the Beatles yesterday. I thought I knew everything about their beginnings, but I guess I didn't. It was refreshing and only makes me want to meet Astrid Kirchherr more. She is worth googling if you have never heard of her.
Block is going okay. I am sick of people telling me that I should consider quitting the program and 24-hours later praising my creativity and wit. Seriously, it has happened at least three times this month alone. The Teacher Ed. Program needs to figure out that being a bitch to a pre-service teacher does not make them tougher it only pisses them off, makes them hate WIU and cry on the phone to their boyfriends. I am the one who decides tough or whimpy and right now it is whimpy. I will be tough in front of my students and administrators when I can afford to be, but right now I know I must jump through your hoops at your specified height, size and colour of flame. So, please play nice so I can graduate and get out of your hair. I thought high school was a nightmare....
My brother is coming home. He jumped through Marine hoops for a month (or thereabouts) and spent over half of it in the Sick Bay (or whatever MarineSpeak named it). The Marines told him to lie about his lifelong history of activity-induced asthma and chronic bronchitis on his health forms, so he did. When they flared up in Boot Camp the doctor called it a "sudden breathing disorder" and took out his wisdom teeth (in preparation for deployment to Iraq in January or so). After about a three weeks Mark got sick of being unable to breathe and stormed into the Sick Bay and loudly announced that he was sick of lying and had had breathing problems since infancy. So, now he is military free, but stuck in CA because of the forest fires (which, ironically enough, have made breathing for anyone impossible). He told Dad a few days ago that he hopes to be home by Christmas. Dad said he sounds changed; Mark said he wants to enroll in a community college and live with Mum and Dad for a few years. I hope, I hope.....
The puppy is doing great. He will be two in December (the 8th, que significa? anyone?) and is (nearly) housebroken. He is no longer shy or scared of anyone and wants to make friends with everything (including cats and squirrels). He comes to work with me a lot and the residents love him. My advice to everyone: get a puppy.
I am at the library waiting for my podcasts to load. The internet at home is wwwwaaaaaaayyyyy ttttttoooooo ssssslllllooooowwww for them.
keep in touch,
Sarah. | | |
| Nausea, Seventh Grade and Math DesksI started block today. Seventh grade Langauge Arts at West Prairie Middle School in Colchester. The first girl to come into the class room shouted "Hey, there's a new student!"
"Language Arts" is code for "teaching to the ISAT". My mentor teacher bitterly informed me that she was hired to keep test scores up by teaching the 5-paragraph essay and vocabulary. So, my job will be to fit into the box. I talked to my favourite Eng Ed prof (Bonnie) and she said to ask where my boundaries are. Once they have the shitty five paragraph form down can we move on to the fun stuff? I hope we can. I can't imagine spending an entire year on the intro-three factual paragraph-conclusion form. Yuch.
The girls are all about as tall as me and a few could beat me up. The boys are about half the size of the girls. Bonnie thought the idea of them at a school dance trying to slow dance was hilarious. I am glad someone enjoyed my first day.
Shauna, my mentor teacher, is really enthusiastic about having me. She said whenever I want to come in an observe any of her classes or need to talk she is available. She teaches three math periods and one language arts period each day. I think I will stick to my assigned time.
It is Spirit Week. Today was Crazy Hair Day. I was met by a principal wearing a rainbow-coloured clown wig eating microwaved egg rolls.
I wore heels today for the first time ever. I got a blister and made a nice business clicky sound when I walked. They are only baby heels, but I still teeter like a tipsy sorority girl.
One of my former campers is in my class. Another saw me in the hall and flipped out. Apparently it is "so cool" that I got placed at her school. I still feel kinda indifferent about it. I will decide after I get to know the students better. | | |
|
