Miscellaneous Missives

Students needed to find commercials to use for today's class.  They are looking at assumptions about gender and race in commercials.  At the beginning of each class students need to tell me what commercial they are using.  One student said Old Spice.  As he was "watching" his commercial, I glanced up to see he was laughing.  My first assumption was that he was doing something not related to the assignment.  He, however, did not try to switch screens as I approached him.  Instead of reprimanding him, I made him take his headphones off, so I could watch and listen.  These are scary and hilarious at the same time.  A similar situation happened with a student who was watching a commercial for Flex Tape .  Although it was not as comical as the Old Spice, I laughed as the guy sawed the boat in half, so he could fix it. I love seventh graders and the commercials they find.

I'd be lying if I didn't say preparing students for a poetry slam is stressful.  This entire year, not merely preparing for the slam, has been stressful.  My team of teachers has been breaking up fights, dealing with major behavior issues in class, feeling the pressure of teaching in a world filled with hate and gun violence.  Sometimes loud screaming in the halls causes people to think something more is about to happen.  The afternoon before this year's slam, a young man emailed me to say he wasn't giving his poem.  I questions why he would tell me the night before instead of springing it on my as he was called to the front of the room.  After three or four emails, I looked at his poem to see what was going on.  Something tragic and frightening and unreal was exposed in the lines of the poem.  Once I realized the truth and consequences of the poem, I let him know that I get it, and he didn't need to give his poem.  It, however, filled m...

Last week it was breaking up a fight at school.  This week it was sitting in the nurses office and calming a bunch of students who were in hysterics because they thought they ate gum that was laced with something illicit.  It seems I'm surviving the madness by eating donuts and drinking beer (not together mind you).  This group of seventh graders has not been good for my waistline. This morning I bought these beautiful tulips while grocery shopping, but basically, I'm drinking coffee and streaming the Current as the play the listeners 893 essential songs.  Some are songs I haven't even heard, so I'm sure they wouldn't make my essential song list.  It's an interesting listen while I settle in to this Saturday morning. 

It seems spring is finally here, and it's beautiful outside.  Although I'm not really enjoying the outside, I'm glad to see the green sprouts and sun... really glad...  My weekend has been spent grading poetry books and journals and finishing up some lesson planning.  It's mundane, but it's good to get out of the way.  I also took a break to sweep out the garage and walk to the grocery story.  Yep, that's my exciting life.

 Soooo... my second Bloody Rectum Ride.  The first day was sooooo cold... colder than any ride I've ever done because I didn't have the clothing necessary.  We started out with five flat tires on our rented bikes.  Weather improved.  We had another great ride.  Even though the pollen was thick enough to be seen in the air and on our bikes and the weather was insanely crazy (colder than Minneapolis), we still managed to ride and keep each other entertained.  Today I'm actually missing the other riders.  We feel like family those two or three days we're together. 

Dear April, I feel that you are manic depressant.  I know that you sometimes have some mood changes, but April this year you are experiencing mood changes that are extreme.  Please get help.  I, honestly, feel as though you should leave the midwest and move to California or somewhere.  I'm still doing #30daysofbiking, but some days my rides are shorter than others.  Thanks April.

I've always said that if I had the body to be a stripper, that I'd definitely be a stripper.  This conversation came up again as I was bellied up to the bar with a friend during a happy hour last week.  The bartender heard the conversation and joined in.  First, he said the same thing many guys tell me which is, "You could totally be a stripper."  Next, he asked if I had read Diablo Cody's book about her year as a stripper.  Immediately, I put the ebook on hold at the library.  Yesterday it was delivered to my iPad, and I gave it a read.  It didn't take long to realize strippers do not make the money that I thought they did, so NO, I could not be a stripper.  As the book progressed, it was clear that NO, I could not be a stripper.  A strippers life is actually more intense (without going into lurid detail) than I had imagined.  Of course, last night I dreamt that I was a stripper.  At least my dream was not the reality of the boo...