ass(onance) man

My grade 8's mutinied on me last week. Completely, absolutely, point-blank refused to do any part in the lesson I'd planned, refused to have anything to do with poetry, refused to stop talking over one another, refused to stop making senseless snoopdogg references and random comments about cheese. Refused to stop laughing at nothing, refused to draw pictures (c'mon! i'm tryin' here!), refused to read during silent reading. . .

So we didn't do poetry today. Instead we studied the canon of Eminem, who works assonance in a manner to which poets can only aspire. A concept far more attainable than the deep literary mysteries of limerick and haiku, no? And lo and behold, the bell rang, and the students were still focused and engaged.

Who needs 'poetry?'

Eminem, you are my hero.

milestone

i got the b-word this week from one of my students. does this mean i'm on my way to becoming a realio, trulio high school teacher?

fatigue

I'm tired. 5 more weeks. . . will I make it?

Any moment now the facade will break down, I know it, and everyone will see what a disorganized wreck I am. Thank you thank you for Easter weekend!!! (Is it sacrilegious-- hmm. . . that's an odd spelling-- to be more appreciative of the two short weeks in a row than of the significance of the celebration itself? Of course it is. But I gotta be honest).

And I'm totally distracted by thinking about my bf's visit at the end of practicum. Lucky for me he doesn't live here. . . or I'd fail this thing for sure! (glass is half full, yes).

Okay. It's late, I'm sweaty from the gym; time to shower, and get to bed. Thank you roommate, for baking cookies at 10 at night that I will now be lusting after in my sleep.

Adios, amigos.