Your Memory Is A Monster

Completely anonymous, letting the guilty live free and the interested live happily.

Looking forward to: August 7, 2009

1. Making jokes that are hilarious to me & so lame to my 10th graders.
2. Having 10th graders.
3. Being done with HR paperwork.
4. Decorating my classroom. I’m so into office supplies.
5. Learning cool new slang, using it, and ruining it for my students.
6. My students’ jokes. It will be tough, though, to cease laughing at my students’ use of “That’s What She Said.”
7. Talking about books.
8. Extra-curricular events.

I’m starting to see that I am really revealing myself to be a huge nerd. What’s worse is that I’m pretty alright with that.

The truth is, I am silently freaking out. About paperwork, about when I will have time to do what, about being ready for the first day, about other teachers liking me, about standardized test prep… and about my students’ attitudes.

There are moments, like today, when I was getting the books I’ll be teaching, that I am so excited I almost actually squeal.

There are moments when I am terrified of something happening and not knowing what to do.

There are moments when I panic about getting things done, doing them right, and everything actually coming together.

There are moments when I am so ready to be here, in this new apartment, with this new job.

There are moments when I feel the wave of regret of leaving where I left, who I left, the job I left, the students and former students I left.

Will it be better or worse? Did I just fuck something up?


Teenage devils. February 6, 2009

Should I be bothered that I am a better teacher than the people teaching me to teach?

Should I be bothered that the state requires me to learn how to teach, even though I’ve been teaching for 4 years?

Should I be bothered that, in order to sustain and fulfill my life, I’ve accrued $70k in debt?

To be honest, I am most bothered by the fact that I don’t even know how to get a job once I’m done learning to do a job I’ve been doing. Maybe, somehow, these classes will make me a better teacher. But how are they going to help me get a job?

One of the FAQs on the Ed department’s Teacher Certification program website is “Will the department help me find a job?” The answer is simply “No.”

Perhaps I should have a different department, eh?

Though my MA will earn me only a little more a year (when I do, eventually, find a job), I don’t think it was a wasted effort, or even wasted money. I think that those three years, that that writing, those experiences were intrinsically valuable. I don’t know that I would have named a price so high, but I would never say I’m not glad I did what I did.

I did wish this process was easier, though.

I want to teach English to high school students. I am ready to sell my soul to the teenage devil. I am ready to lay down my life for standardized tests. And I am willing to do it all for less money than I could make doing little more than checking my Facebook as an office worker. So why isn’t someone making it easier?

There is an abundance of well-educated, under-employed people in this county, this state, this city, this effin’ neighborhood, even. Why aren’t we being snatched up, courted, wooed and escorted into jobs that need filling, that change lives, that meet important needs?

Why do I have to fight to do the right thing?

I am still going to do it, and I won’t complain (more than this). But what about all the equally qualified folks who are up for the job but not this strenuous process?


It isn’t like that anymore. November 15, 2007

Filed under: Men Life Gossip — memorymonster @ 7:18 am
Tags: , , , , , ,

I’ve found myself becoming more attracted to a man’s health insurance plan than his McDreamy hair or Zach Braff-ian charm.
Clearly, I watch too many medical TV shows.
Remember when you liked someone for them? I know, that’s the goal our mothers try to give us: find someone who loves you for you. Find someone you love as they are.
But it isn’t like that anymore.
Tolerate who they are, enjoy some things about them, yes.
Just as important: Their extras.
We’re not just looking for a rich family. In fact, most women are smart enough to know that a rich family is as dangerous and emotionally trying as they are beneficial.
Now I want a low co-pay, a decent prescription plan.
Now I can deal with dull at parties if I can trade in for does the grocery shopping on his way home from work.
Now I know I can slowly improve his passive agression, and I am willing to climb that hill for battle, so long as you have no debt other than college loans.
How my mother would smile and shake her head. I don’t love him for who he is because I am looking past who he is, ready to change who he is.
We can have disparate taste in movies, I can even hate your taste in movies, if your job gives you a company car we can take road trips in.
These are just sample trades.
Now I know, after being in several weddings, to ask on the first date if your parents drink, or at least don’t condemn it. If you have the parents who don’t want beer at their son’s wedding, then a first date is as far as we need to go.
When she tells me, my mom, that I am going about this the wrong way, I’ll remind her of who my dad used to be, before I knew him, before he knew what she was worth. Worth selling the sports car for something family friendly. Worth commuting to work so she’d be close to her job.
Men have been making the trades, determining the value of changing something, sticking with something, persuring something, moving the tangible around so that the intangible (the love, the sugar, the sweetness and goop) comes at the smallest cost and provides a good return.

So, tell me, do you need a referral to specialist?