Okay! I have spent less time in front of the computer in the past two weeks than I... um... than I have in probably any other two week period since 1995. I apologize to everyone whose comments and messages I have not returned, but I'm pretty sure that nobody noticed they were missing me until now, which is, you know, healthy, probably.
I've been boring but certainly not bored; I'd feel kind of douchebaggy (see footnote 1) if I were to tire/titilate you with the details, so briefly:
My first semester of teaching has drawn to a close (see footnote 2). I am now noticing that a nice thing about being a teacher is that one gets all the same extravagantly numerous and ludicrously long breaks as one got when one was a student. Everyone is certain that teaching isn't about the money, but people tend to be hazier on what it actually is about. They generally have some vague idea about "rewarding experiences" or some equally gay-assed pud-pulling. That's bullshit; here's the truth: Teaching is about the slack-assed hours, the petty power trip of being able to lord it over teenagers (see footnote 3), and being a pedantic, didactic, know-it-all douche sac to whom people are, by circumstance, forced to listen. I fucking love it. Teaching is not for everyone, but it's sure for me. Fluxy will be smugly pleased to find out that it seems I do have an inner sadist after all.
Speaking of She Whose Eyelashes Are, In Fact, Real: Man, was her birthday ever a great excuse to get trashed in a new city with some new folks. It's been a while since I have so satisfyingly eaten, quaffed, and forced my eyes to stay open to avoid getting dizzy and vomiting in a chick's hair. An inclined pint of Sweetwater goes to deckwreck, although I'm not sure why, when we sat down to watch "a horror movie", we ended up watching Dancing Outlaw (see footnote 4). Whatever; it was a night to remember, or at least would be, if it hadn't started with free beer.
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1. "Douchesaccy" ("douchesacky"?) just doesn't work.
2. Well, not quite. The semester is technically over, but I haven't graded my final exams yet.
3. This is especially satisfying to the self-loathing among us, because it gives us a chance to torment what are essentially younger versions of ourselves.
4. I'm not saying it wasn't horrifying; it's just that PBS documentaries, no matter how frightening the subject matter, don't generally appear in the "horror" section of the video store.
I've been boring but certainly not bored; I'd feel kind of douchebaggy (see footnote 1) if I were to tire/titilate you with the details, so briefly:
My first semester of teaching has drawn to a close (see footnote 2). I am now noticing that a nice thing about being a teacher is that one gets all the same extravagantly numerous and ludicrously long breaks as one got when one was a student. Everyone is certain that teaching isn't about the money, but people tend to be hazier on what it actually is about. They generally have some vague idea about "rewarding experiences" or some equally gay-assed pud-pulling. That's bullshit; here's the truth: Teaching is about the slack-assed hours, the petty power trip of being able to lord it over teenagers (see footnote 3), and being a pedantic, didactic, know-it-all douche sac to whom people are, by circumstance, forced to listen. I fucking love it. Teaching is not for everyone, but it's sure for me. Fluxy will be smugly pleased to find out that it seems I do have an inner sadist after all.
Speaking of She Whose Eyelashes Are, In Fact, Real: Man, was her birthday ever a great excuse to get trashed in a new city with some new folks. It's been a while since I have so satisfyingly eaten, quaffed, and forced my eyes to stay open to avoid getting dizzy and vomiting in a chick's hair. An inclined pint of Sweetwater goes to deckwreck, although I'm not sure why, when we sat down to watch "a horror movie", we ended up watching Dancing Outlaw (see footnote 4). Whatever; it was a night to remember, or at least would be, if it hadn't started with free beer.
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1. "Douchesaccy" ("douchesacky"?) just doesn't work.
2. Well, not quite. The semester is technically over, but I haven't graded my final exams yet.
3. This is especially satisfying to the self-loathing among us, because it gives us a chance to torment what are essentially younger versions of ourselves.
4. I'm not saying it wasn't horrifying; it's just that PBS documentaries, no matter how frightening the subject matter, don't generally appear in the "horror" section of the video store.
VIEW 16 of 16 COMMENTS
Teaching does seem to have a lot of the independance and relaxed work year that I've been trying to figure out how to get ahold of, though I wonder if there are a lot of politics and psycho parent type bullshit that goes along with that.