Random Bits of Poetry

One of the pleasures of being an English teacher is that the most random bits of poetry are in my mind. Today walking back from the cafeteria just the title of a poem came back to me, "Who burns for the perfection of paper." The other night walking around the campus I could hear in my head, "I will arise and go to Innisfree...And a small cabin build there, Of clay and wattles made." The funny thing about the last poem is that I heard it read once on a CD and ever since then the sound of the poem in my mind is in the shaky voice of the old man reading the poem from that CD.

Being a Student Vs. Being a Teacher

I'm not sure if it is better to be a student or a teacher. There are many things I miss about being a student. I miss the luxury of being able to day dream or write letters if a class is boring. Now, if a class is boring...there isn't much to do but (gulp) figure out why my students are falling asleep. I miss only being responsible for myself. I miss the only bad consequences of not planning well, is getting a bad grade. I miss playing hooky. It's a little harder to run away for a day when you need to think about how that will affect your students.

On the other hand, the advantages of being a teacher are plenty. By the time finals roll along, I'm happy. By then, most of my work is done (okay besides the hours of marking that come later). I also like the power to cancel things. If I'm falling behind in my work, than I can cancel some assignments so I can catch up.

And as much as I grumble about how much school and work occupies my mind (I have to make a conscious effort not to worry about classes while I'm at home), I love the constant challenge that being a teacher brings to me. Every day, every class, I'm discovering (sometimes painfully) that there are better ways to go about what I'm doing. I'm forced to grow.

Romeo

An email my dad sent me last week:

Hi Julie,

We are about to walk out the door and drive to Gina's. I had to lol at mother's list I found as to what to bring:

frozen cranberry salad
pie
frichik
Romeo

Oh well he will be on ice. So stay away from Bangkok and India, both don't look too happy lately.

Love,
Dad and Mom

Romeo is our dearly departed cat. He lived with our family for twenty years and when he died my sister wanted to give him a proper burial (they even made a slide show for him), so my parents kept him in the freezer until they were able to take him to my sister's house at Thanksgiving. Some may think my family mad, but if they knew Romeo--they wouldn't. He was such an amazing, loving, weird, wonderful, and delightful cat.

He was massive in his prime (20 lbs/9 kilos) and some nights when he fell asleep on my neck I would wake up choking because he was so heavy. My sister loved him so much that when she started dating her husband who had a cat allergy I asked her, "So will it be Romeo or Oscar?" She told me the question wasn't fair.

Romeo loved to follow us around the house. Whatever room we would move to he would eventually follow. He would watch my dad shave in the morning or he would just sit in the living room with us as we watched TV.

In his old age Romeo grew senile. Sometimes he would just sit for hours staring at nothing. He was also deaf. Despite his senility he was still loving. My last time I was home I spent many hours reading in bed and Romeo would curl up his bony old cat body beside me. I will miss him. I hope pets go to heaven.


"Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow."

Romeo and Juliet Act 2, Scene 2

Yesterday

Yesterday was Thanksgiving. My parents, sister, nieces, aunts, uncles, cousins, cousin's kids all got together at my sister's house. They probably spent most of the day cooking. My mom would have made frozen cranberry salad with whipped cream, my sister probably cooked the turkey, and my cousin most likely brought some pumpkin pie. I would have liked the eating. I would have liked how I would have had to have sat at the "kid" table with all the other "kids" who are now in their late 20s and early 30s. After the meal I would probably would have sat for awhile just trying to let everything settle. I would have played with my two year old niece and then chatted with my elven-year-old niece. My dad most likely would have suggested we go for a walk. We'd go outside and the first thing that would hit me would be how cold it was. I would have run back in and grabbed my black pea coat and stuffed my hands deep into its pockets. My dad and I would have walked against the wind and talked some. We'd probably have talked about religion or politics or whatever was on our minds. Yesterday was Thanksgiving and I worked all day. I had a pleasant supper with the Americans and honorary Americans, but I wasn't home.

The Ocean

I had a job recruiter ask me which part of the US I wanted to live in. I said, "Either the west coast or the east coast but nowhere in between." I'm not against middle America, but I just need an ocean near by. The farther I get inland the more claustrophobic I feel. Even if I don't see the water on a day to day basis, just the knowledge that it is there makes me happy. I need the ocean to breathe.

The thing I keep forgetting

Silliness is a prerequisite for sanity.

My Office

My socks don't match. I'm just noticing that. I'm sitting in my office...feet propped up on my desk and I just noticed that my socks don't match. One sock is gray and the other is brown. Humph. But the point of this is that I'm IN MY OFFICE.

This office plays a large role in my life (too large). I know how nice it is to take naps under my desk and I know what it's like to be here at 10:00 pm struggling with lesson planning.
I know how fun it is to run around the the school barefoot or in socks. (Who knew that running down the hall and seeing how far I could slide on my socks could bring so much entertainment?) And I also know the madness of how-will-I-ever-get-my-work-done-head-down-on-my-desk prayers.

Well, I'm going now. I need to get out of this place. :)