I went into teaching because I love the brutal vigor of moody teenagers. I don't know why, but I think it is something to do with their raw emotional reactions and the fact that they still have the possibility of not becoming the uneducated or, quite frankly, stupid masses. There is nothing I HATE more than stupid people. To my students, I explain it like this. One can have a low intelligence level and still be smart in life. I've already told Joe that if I have unkind, stupid children I will DIE. Sorry. I digress.
Today I spent $200 renewing the CT teaching license that I don't use. "Why?" you may ask. I'm renewing it just in case I ever return to the state and, to be honest, it makes me more marketable in the eyes of employers. Things work as such in the world of education. In order to be an educator, you must spend money. First, you need to go through an accredited teaching program, which obviously not an issue, but it's what occurs afterward that drives me nuts. I have literally spent hundreds of dollars for tests, certifications and other related activities. What I don't understand is that schools NEED teachers, meaning that states need teachers as well. Yet, teachers make jack. Yes, the vacation time is great, but do you know what it's like to constantly be plagued 24/7 for 10 months out of the year with thoughts about specific kids. Did Johnny do his homework? What is going on with Caroline? I wonder if she's okay. Maybe it's just a phase. How am I going to pass Rick if he doesn't come to class? I sure am hoping that Suzy will think about her future....
And, so it goes. It's exhausting. However, I love my kids, but I need my vacation. (How conflicted do I sound?) What I don't understand is that you have to spend money, and excessive amounts, in order to maintain a job as a teacher. I don't truly mind the small pay, but I do care that I have to use that money to be able to keep my job. I empathize with others as well. Can you imagine being laid off and having to still pay the state for a certificate to keep the job that you don't have? How is that right?
I don't mind investing further in educational programs, but small things like this hit a sour note with me.
Onto happier thoughts! (A friend finds my cynicism amusing, but I'm trying to work on it.) Summer school starts on Tuesday, and I'm excited to work with little ones for a change. (Little ones being sixth and seventh graders.) PLUS, I've got great ideas for my eleventh British literature classes. I miss school a little, as you can tell, but one needs her rest in order to be effective. In the meantime, David Sedaris is calling me from the end of the coffee table to read WHEN YOU ARE ENGULFED IN FLAMES. (Joe noted the darkness of the title and laughed because it is "so" me.) Feel free to share your own frustrating thoughts under "Comments." :)
Friday, July 2, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
All That Jazz
I had originally wanted to call this blog "All That Jazz." However, I did not know that so many people sit at home on a Thursday night listening to the latest Michael Buble album bored, a little lonely, and with a need to do something and think to themselves, "Hey. I should start yet ANOTHER blog. Huh. I could totally use 'All That Jazz' as a title because it is all encompassing. Cool." After fifteen frustrating minutes playing with different configurations of titles and web addresses, I settled on "A Slight Chance of Rain" because life is so unpredictable. Who knows when something good, bad, or boring can happen, right?
If you've read blogs of mine in the past, you know who I am and what I'm about. We know that I sometimes have a gloomy and cynical outlook on life but try to make light of it by poking fun at myself. Yet, I'd like to think that I am sometimes entertaining. I hope people read this and laugh or remain just generally informed of all my thoughts, dreams, and daily activities.
Here's where I am currently. I am sitting on my couch imagining men in tails dancing with top hats and canes dancing as if they are in an old Bing Crosby movie or a 1940s review. Just think Frank Sinatra but fancier, and you've got the picture. "Why not watch SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE?" you may ask. I tried to watch it about as long as I spent trying out different blog titles and was incredibly bored. We know that I do not possess natural grace and finesse, so watching people with the ability to put their ankles behind their heads is a sick joke. Plus, I would rather imagine dancing men than watch them on television; this way I can guarantee that they'll be super hot.
I have also been spending an incredible amount of time daydreaming--Is it still daydreaming if it's 10:00 PM?--about the wedding of the century. (Okay. Maybe not of the century, but definitely of April 16, 2011. )Thus, the Michael Buble music. I'm starting to put the various pieces of the wedding together in my head to make sense of it all. I'm currently on music. I always imagined a big band in my future; this was before I realized that an old standards group would cost quite a bit of money. (I'll take donations, by the way...) We need to sit down and pick out the first dance song. (I'm hoping it's something classic. Also, I'm open to suggestions.) So far, we've got the venue, the DJ, the florist, the rabbi, the photographer, the dress, and most of the bridesmaid dresses. I never realistically imagined myself as a bride until the past few years. I knew I wanted to get married, but I didn't really have a grasp on all the details. Enter Joe.
It's funny when you fall in love. You find your other half, for better or worse. I'm pretty sure he's the only one who can tolerate random animal noises, scary faces, and outbursts of intense emotion. And, no, I am not talking about Fiona and Roxy, the chinchillas. How many people can calm me when I am raging with fiery anger over the neighbor parking in one of our parking spots or when kids don't know their lines the week of a show? Who is willing to brave the scary basement and dangerous attic to put away my many bins of my childhood memorabilia? Who can throw me over his shoulder and wear me like a boa?
Who would surprise me at this moment by ringing my doorbell? THAT WOULD BE JOE! He never ceases to amaze me. I HAD NO IDEA HE WAS COMING OVER! So much for a complete stream of consciousness blog entry on a lonely Thursday night... I promise this will be continued...
Wish me luck as I try to maintain this blog. My goal is to recount tales of everyday life and the little surprises that accompany it. Cheers!
If you've read blogs of mine in the past, you know who I am and what I'm about. We know that I sometimes have a gloomy and cynical outlook on life but try to make light of it by poking fun at myself. Yet, I'd like to think that I am sometimes entertaining. I hope people read this and laugh or remain just generally informed of all my thoughts, dreams, and daily activities.
Here's where I am currently. I am sitting on my couch imagining men in tails dancing with top hats and canes dancing as if they are in an old Bing Crosby movie or a 1940s review. Just think Frank Sinatra but fancier, and you've got the picture. "Why not watch SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE?" you may ask. I tried to watch it about as long as I spent trying out different blog titles and was incredibly bored. We know that I do not possess natural grace and finesse, so watching people with the ability to put their ankles behind their heads is a sick joke. Plus, I would rather imagine dancing men than watch them on television; this way I can guarantee that they'll be super hot.
I have also been spending an incredible amount of time daydreaming--Is it still daydreaming if it's 10:00 PM?--about the wedding of the century. (Okay. Maybe not of the century, but definitely of April 16, 2011. )Thus, the Michael Buble music. I'm starting to put the various pieces of the wedding together in my head to make sense of it all. I'm currently on music. I always imagined a big band in my future; this was before I realized that an old standards group would cost quite a bit of money. (I'll take donations, by the way...) We need to sit down and pick out the first dance song. (I'm hoping it's something classic. Also, I'm open to suggestions.) So far, we've got the venue, the DJ, the florist, the rabbi, the photographer, the dress, and most of the bridesmaid dresses. I never realistically imagined myself as a bride until the past few years. I knew I wanted to get married, but I didn't really have a grasp on all the details. Enter Joe.
It's funny when you fall in love. You find your other half, for better or worse. I'm pretty sure he's the only one who can tolerate random animal noises, scary faces, and outbursts of intense emotion. And, no, I am not talking about Fiona and Roxy, the chinchillas. How many people can calm me when I am raging with fiery anger over the neighbor parking in one of our parking spots or when kids don't know their lines the week of a show? Who is willing to brave the scary basement and dangerous attic to put away my many bins of my childhood memorabilia? Who can throw me over his shoulder and wear me like a boa?
Who would surprise me at this moment by ringing my doorbell? THAT WOULD BE JOE! He never ceases to amaze me. I HAD NO IDEA HE WAS COMING OVER! So much for a complete stream of consciousness blog entry on a lonely Thursday night... I promise this will be continued...
Wish me luck as I try to maintain this blog. My goal is to recount tales of everyday life and the little surprises that accompany it. Cheers!
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