"Floating" is a more positive word than "drifting."
"Floating on air" conveys ecstatic happiness. "Floating in the pool" sounds like a lazy summer afternoon... "floating" sounds like magical beings gracefully levitating... butterflies and pleasant odors can float on a breeze... and there's always the rootbeer float. It's a detachment from earthly ties, nothing weighing you down, freedom and lightness.
"Drifting" sounds like what happens when you're out at sea and your mast cracks or your motor dies, and you are at the mercy of winds and waves and currents, totally unable to control what happens. Continental drift causes earthquakes and volcanoes and tsunamis. Drifting happens to snow and then it's a heavy obstacle that is still not solid enough to get any traction on--you can't just pick it up and move it, but you can't struggle through it easily either--you just have to shovel through it and it's back-breaking and time-consuming. Drifting means you're being carried along and have nothing to grab onto, terrifying loss of bearings and control.
So really, I guess it's all a matter of perspective.
I talked to the school district office about why they didn't want me to sub, and we had a weird coded conversation that implied that either my old cooperating teacher is undermining me with a bad reference, or the gap between finishing the program and looking for a job looks so bad that I'm rejected automatically. Or maybe just that they have enough experienced teachers applying for the sub positions...
I'm not eligible for that job that my former student's mom wanted to offer me.
So, I'm not sure what comes next. Drifting, floating, something like that.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
bit of a body blow
so i stayed up all night writing the application for Operation Fresh Start... then I cancelled my Farsi lesson (w Atefeh, how's that for a blast from the past, eh Miri?) and rewrote it... finally drove in to hand-deliver it by noon today.... on the way I picked up the mail... opened a letter from the Madison school district while driving, b/c I was excited... and it was a rejection!
not only are they saying I cannot be a sub (not even a SUB????? what am I, toxic????) for the district, but they sent the letter on the day that they received my online application--meaning, they didn't even see my transcripts, letters of reference, resumé, cover letter, or page of additional references.
i was really thrown. rug pulled out from under, etc.
i really hope the Operation Fresh Start application goes better, or else, what am I gonna do? seriously--what?
i ran into a parent of one of my old students at dinner tonight (Maharaja East, yay!) and she almost offered me a job on the spot--part time, after-school program with 2nd to 6th graders. i told her, "I kinda draw the line at the age when I have to wipe their nose for them," but who knows I might take it if it comes through. I'm a little afraid to hope at this point.
not only are they saying I cannot be a sub (not even a SUB????? what am I, toxic????) for the district, but they sent the letter on the day that they received my online application--meaning, they didn't even see my transcripts, letters of reference, resumé, cover letter, or page of additional references.
i was really thrown. rug pulled out from under, etc.
i really hope the Operation Fresh Start application goes better, or else, what am I gonna do? seriously--what?
i ran into a parent of one of my old students at dinner tonight (Maharaja East, yay!) and she almost offered me a job on the spot--part time, after-school program with 2nd to 6th graders. i told her, "I kinda draw the line at the age when I have to wipe their nose for them," but who knows I might take it if it comes through. I'm a little afraid to hope at this point.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
my life is weird
Little-known fact: if you buy $5 worth of groceries at Sentry's on a Sunday, they give you a free Sunday paper.
Now, granted, the Wisconsin State Journal is mostly useless to us, since we don't have a birdcage to line, but we do sometimes need to get the grill or fireplace going, so it does come in handy to pick up one or two copies a year.
Oh, and, as it turns out, there are classified ads in the back. Last Sunday Rebekah suddenly tossed me one of those finely-printed pages and annouced, "hey, I found you a job."
An apparently well-respected and well-funded organization called "Operation Fresh Start" is hiring teachers to help its 16- to 24-year-old participants get their GED's and/or any other educational support they might need, from basic literacy to community college prep.
At a glance it seems like an almost-perfect job for me. I like working with students with significant challenges and helping them see, believe in, and realize their own potential.
Plus, there's a whole procedure and system and team designed specifically to meet these students' needs; it wouldn't be like swimming upstream in public school trying to get anyone to give a shit about the students who struggle most.
Plus, it's four days a week, ten hours a day. (You put in ten hours at public school anyway; might as well get paid for it!)
On the other hand, the students are older than my preference, and GED prep could be pretty dull/frustrating for students and teacher alike...but as Loopy says, don't talk myself out of a job I haven't gotten yet.
So anyway, I'm filling in the application and I start feeling really weird about my life. It asks what honors I've received so I start writing, "Phi Beta Kappa, summa cum laude, Hoopes Prize for Outstanding Senior Thesis"--and it's just so weird. I worked really hard for those things and for what.... ?
It's like another lifetime, another planet. I look around my room and see a Japanese teacup, a random Moroccan flag, a socialist bumper sticker. My life feels weird and disjointed.
I spent the first, uh, 22 years cramming so much in, like if everything I did was extreme and superlative I would win some kind of prize. And what? And nothing. It didn't make any difference.
Sure, I could try to be someplace where it would make more of a difference--grad school, the Council on Foreign Affairs. But I have no desire to go anywhere near those places or communicate with the people who think all those things are important. So why do I even care? Why did I?
I just feel so different from my younger self, it feels like I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way, and yet, I don't want any of the things I turned away from.
OK, so, I'm not even able to express why I'm having this existential angst, so, back to the application.
On a more practical note, will they think I"m a huge snob for putting down Phi Beta Kappa? Jeez. I hate these things. Who knows what anybody will think about anything? Will they think it's a grammatical error if I capitalize my bullet points, or if I don't? Argh.
Now, granted, the Wisconsin State Journal is mostly useless to us, since we don't have a birdcage to line, but we do sometimes need to get the grill or fireplace going, so it does come in handy to pick up one or two copies a year.
Oh, and, as it turns out, there are classified ads in the back. Last Sunday Rebekah suddenly tossed me one of those finely-printed pages and annouced, "hey, I found you a job."
An apparently well-respected and well-funded organization called "Operation Fresh Start" is hiring teachers to help its 16- to 24-year-old participants get their GED's and/or any other educational support they might need, from basic literacy to community college prep.
At a glance it seems like an almost-perfect job for me. I like working with students with significant challenges and helping them see, believe in, and realize their own potential.
Plus, there's a whole procedure and system and team designed specifically to meet these students' needs; it wouldn't be like swimming upstream in public school trying to get anyone to give a shit about the students who struggle most.
Plus, it's four days a week, ten hours a day. (You put in ten hours at public school anyway; might as well get paid for it!)
On the other hand, the students are older than my preference, and GED prep could be pretty dull/frustrating for students and teacher alike...but as Loopy says, don't talk myself out of a job I haven't gotten yet.
So anyway, I'm filling in the application and I start feeling really weird about my life. It asks what honors I've received so I start writing, "Phi Beta Kappa, summa cum laude, Hoopes Prize for Outstanding Senior Thesis"--and it's just so weird. I worked really hard for those things and for what.... ?
It's like another lifetime, another planet. I look around my room and see a Japanese teacup, a random Moroccan flag, a socialist bumper sticker. My life feels weird and disjointed.
I spent the first, uh, 22 years cramming so much in, like if everything I did was extreme and superlative I would win some kind of prize. And what? And nothing. It didn't make any difference.
Sure, I could try to be someplace where it would make more of a difference--grad school, the Council on Foreign Affairs. But I have no desire to go anywhere near those places or communicate with the people who think all those things are important. So why do I even care? Why did I?
I just feel so different from my younger self, it feels like I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere along the way, and yet, I don't want any of the things I turned away from.
OK, so, I'm not even able to express why I'm having this existential angst, so, back to the application.
On a more practical note, will they think I"m a huge snob for putting down Phi Beta Kappa? Jeez. I hate these things. Who knows what anybody will think about anything? Will they think it's a grammatical error if I capitalize my bullet points, or if I don't? Argh.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
more news
so, well, Loopy only slept one night, and even that was short & interrupted. after that the pain was back and so was the pacing, the moaning, the lying down for half an hour only to spring up again as the muscle spasms started. it was all awful.
Sunday night I made her go to the ER because her feet were swollen and tingly. I called the doctor on call at our insurance, and he said to go; at the ER the doctor there confirmed that yes, it's good to come in for those symptoms, as they can point to several life-threatening conditions.
Fortunately none of those were the case, BUT the doctor there gave her prednisone, which immediately made the pain stop, and it stayed stopped until she stopped taking the prednisone, i.e., today. (You can't take it for long since it's pretty toxic). Now the pain is back, a little; we're waiting to see how much worse it gets. She's scheduled for a steroid shot on Oct. 5. Hopefully that will end the pain for at least a year or two.
In other news, my grade changes finally went through and I officially got my degree--Bachelor of Science in Education. Yay for me! I still am not subbing, b/c when I finally got it together to submit the paperwork, turns out it takes weeks to be approved--it's like being accepted for any other job. Wow. Okay then. Hurry up and wait.
Still, it's good to know that all those F's are wiped off my record... my hideous and embarrassing failures concealed from the world.... hard to describe how good that feels, and interesting to observe.
Sunday night I made her go to the ER because her feet were swollen and tingly. I called the doctor on call at our insurance, and he said to go; at the ER the doctor there confirmed that yes, it's good to come in for those symptoms, as they can point to several life-threatening conditions.
Fortunately none of those were the case, BUT the doctor there gave her prednisone, which immediately made the pain stop, and it stayed stopped until she stopped taking the prednisone, i.e., today. (You can't take it for long since it's pretty toxic). Now the pain is back, a little; we're waiting to see how much worse it gets. She's scheduled for a steroid shot on Oct. 5. Hopefully that will end the pain for at least a year or two.
In other news, my grade changes finally went through and I officially got my degree--Bachelor of Science in Education. Yay for me! I still am not subbing, b/c when I finally got it together to submit the paperwork, turns out it takes weeks to be approved--it's like being accepted for any other job. Wow. Okay then. Hurry up and wait.
Still, it's good to know that all those F's are wiped off my record... my hideous and embarrassing failures concealed from the world.... hard to describe how good that feels, and interesting to observe.
Saturday, September 16, 2006
good news!
Loopy is sleeping, a lot! Yay! Finally! She hasn't had a good night's sleep since February, and no more than a couple hours at a time in at least six weeks. She slept five hours in a row last night and then went back to sleep & is still at it three hours later. Yay!!
Or as they say in Farsi, kheyli khub eh!
Or as they say in Farsi, kheyli khub eh!
Friday, September 15, 2006
morphine & Farsi
We saw the specialist today for Loopy's back and he prescribed morphine and trazodone, promising that once she got going on that she'd sleep for a couple days. She took the pills and seemed fast asleep for like an hour and a half, and I was really optimistic. But no. Back up again. *sigh* Hopefully the effect will be cumulative, starting, like, tomorrow. He's also arranging for a steroid shot into the, uh, affected area (not to get too gory with the details). Hopefully that will be soon, like, tomorrow. *sigh* again.
This whole series of posts is so split-personality, but what can I do? I'm so excited about the Iran trip. I bought a phrasebook and CD tonight as well as a guidebook. I'm still awake at 1 am because I read through the whole phrasebook. It was fascinating to see all the cognates to, like, every language I've ever learned or seen on a restaurant menu. I guess that's what happens when you live at the center of the world.
Loopy needs me to go deal with the dogs so I'll write more tomorrow.
This whole series of posts is so split-personality, but what can I do? I'm so excited about the Iran trip. I bought a phrasebook and CD tonight as well as a guidebook. I'm still awake at 1 am because I read through the whole phrasebook. It was fascinating to see all the cognates to, like, every language I've ever learned or seen on a restaurant menu. I guess that's what happens when you live at the center of the world.
Loopy needs me to go deal with the dogs so I'll write more tomorrow.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
implicit
Joel sent me to the website of Project Implicit, where you can take tests that show your unconscious preferences. I wanted to take the one that shows whether you're secretly racist, but I didn't get that one, unfortunately (there are 100 of them and you can take as many as you like!) I took four. The tests did show that I:
- have a strong preference for Shaquille O'Neal over Kobe Bryant (well no fucking kidding, who wouldn't pick the guy that helped police arrest a gay-basher over the alleged rapist??)
- no preference between Coke & Pepsi (even though I tried to have a preference for Pepsi since Coke kills union activists in Colombia... but I guess when faced with those logos they all just were equally mind-numbing)
- a slight preference for team activities vs. individual activities (yay for socialism)
- a slight preference for carbohydrates over protein
- one more I can't recall, gotta go now
reflection on 9/11, two days late (and Loopy's back still hurts)
It's tomorrow, not today, that we're going to the specialist for Loopy's back. Bluh.
Miriam pointed out that I posted about going to Iran on 9/11, which would be the excuse for blowing up Iran (9/11 would be the excuse, that is). I could also add that the US's support for the 1953 coup in Iran is considered by some (including myself) a major contributor to the rise of radical Islam. (Because it was the only force that could successfully combat the brutality of US-backed dictatorships that completely obliterated any Left movement).
As for 9/11 itself... I mostly spent 9/11 trying to avoid the lugubrious "remembrances." My personal opinion is, if 9/11 meant anything to you, why the hell would you want to remember it for five seconds? It was a horrible day and I basically avoid thinking about it. Whenever I see the photos of the towers on fire it's like a fist in the stomach, all over again. I don't want to "get used to" those images.
Another thing that has maintained its immediacy is my annoyance with the many people here in Wisconsin who just don't seem to get it. On the morning of 9/11, we went to Espresso Royale for breakfast, and the college kids were just acting like it was any other day, talking about the towers that were burning at that moment like it was some celebrity gossip.
Oh well. I seem to be cranky lately. Witness my silly pointless vitriol toward specific lines of Keats's fabulous Ode to Autumn, below. *sigh*
Miriam pointed out that I posted about going to Iran on 9/11, which would be the excuse for blowing up Iran (9/11 would be the excuse, that is). I could also add that the US's support for the 1953 coup in Iran is considered by some (including myself) a major contributor to the rise of radical Islam. (Because it was the only force that could successfully combat the brutality of US-backed dictatorships that completely obliterated any Left movement).
As for 9/11 itself... I mostly spent 9/11 trying to avoid the lugubrious "remembrances." My personal opinion is, if 9/11 meant anything to you, why the hell would you want to remember it for five seconds? It was a horrible day and I basically avoid thinking about it. Whenever I see the photos of the towers on fire it's like a fist in the stomach, all over again. I don't want to "get used to" those images.
Another thing that has maintained its immediacy is my annoyance with the many people here in Wisconsin who just don't seem to get it. On the morning of 9/11, we went to Espresso Royale for breakfast, and the college kids were just acting like it was any other day, talking about the towers that were burning at that moment like it was some celebrity gossip.
Oh well. I seem to be cranky lately. Witness my silly pointless vitriol toward specific lines of Keats's fabulous Ode to Autumn, below. *sigh*
Monday, September 11, 2006
going to Iran! :-D / Loopy's back hurts :-(
You may remember how I was gonna go to Iran but then I decided not to. Well, I'm going for real this time, unless Bush & co blow the place up before October 28.
Yay!
In other news, Loopy is exhausted but hasn't slept in like 48 hours cuz she's in so much pain. She already took ambien, percoset, alleve, and advil. Now she's gonna go take valium because it's the only thing left she hasn't taken.
This is ridiculous and awful. We're just hanging on til Wednesday when she gets to see the specialist. I hate this!!!! I hate that she's in pain and that I can't do anything about it. :-P
Yay!
In other news, Loopy is exhausted but hasn't slept in like 48 hours cuz she's in so much pain. She already took ambien, percoset, alleve, and advil. Now she's gonna go take valium because it's the only thing left she hasn't taken.
This is ridiculous and awful. We're just hanging on til Wednesday when she gets to see the specialist. I hate this!!!! I hate that she's in pain and that I can't do anything about it. :-P
Saturday, September 09, 2006
news? you want actual news?
I didn't get a job; Loopy is in terrible pain most of the time but she had an MRI a couple days ago and we're seeing the spine specialist again this week; I am supposed to be subbing but instead I'm sitting around the house in my PJs every day. (Well, I don't actually have any PJs, but you get the point). Mom is doing much better--she moved home yesterday and is very happy to be there.
See, you didn't really want news.
See, you didn't really want news.
summer definitely ending...
for a couple days, the opening line of a Keats ode to autumn I had to study in college has been running through my head.... the line that keeps repeating is, "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness." I love that. Of course, I hate the next line, "Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun..." I hate all that Romantic personification, blah blah blah.
I remember I loved that class when I took it, freshman year, with my friend Sylvia; I loved the feeling I was reading Great Literature, I loved the poetry, I loved reading out of a big heavy anthology edited by my professor. Today kids accuse the prof of just trying to sell books when s/he assigns hir own work... I was star-struck that my prof had written an actual book, he was actually the authority in the field... I have no idea whether that was true, or whether that's just my youthful naivete....
Here's the whole poem. It's about equal parts insufferable affectation:
and gorgeous, succulent imagery:
and
*sigh* how long has it even been since I've read a poem?
I remember I loved that class when I took it, freshman year, with my friend Sylvia; I loved the feeling I was reading Great Literature, I loved the poetry, I loved reading out of a big heavy anthology edited by my professor. Today kids accuse the prof of just trying to sell books when s/he assigns hir own work... I was star-struck that my prof had written an actual book, he was actually the authority in the field... I have no idea whether that was true, or whether that's just my youthful naivete....
Here's the whole poem. It's about equal parts insufferable affectation:
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee* sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind...
[* "Thee" = Autumn, personified as a lovely woman, of course]
and gorgeous, succulent imagery:
While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
and
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
*sigh* how long has it even been since I've read a poem?
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