Friday, April 27, 2007

My Day Continued

Well, My Day was a hit, apparently, Ed made it into a audio thingy which of course I cannot listen to. 'Cause I'm at work, and stuff? And then Alex actually SAID he liked it.

So we'll continue.

Prayer for Today: Please God, don't ever let me dress like a bus driver.

I have another idea for a remake of a movie. Dominique should be in "The Sound of Music" only the admiral decides to bomb the nunnery after "Maria" "teaches" the children to "sing" Alouette. The song "How do you solve a problem like Maria" now includes the lines "When she sings/flowers wilt/When she sings/milk is spilt"
Diane and Olivier shout at each other about hawking loogies at each other. Olivier claims to have evidence of this on his shirt. "It's sticky!" He says. "Well, you'll have something to remember her by." I tell him.

This week, Rose is "working at the car wash!" This seems to be the only part of the song she knows, so she randomly and repeatedly shrieks this all through class. I decide not to point out to her that A) the song is about whores and B) if she continues on the path she has chosen, "working at the car wash" is an inevitability. Yes, you are, Rose, I tell her. Working at the car wash! We got it! Very nice!
Also Aline comes to detention and forgets why she had to come to detention, but I discover that if I say O! O! O! randomly, she TOTALLY freaks out. I intend to practice this in the remaining two weeks.

In 3rd period, Andre wants a band-aid. No, I say. "I want to go to the clinic!" He says. "I'm bleeding all over the place."

I look. He's NOT bleeding anywhere. He already has a band-aid, which he is pulling off to show me his non-bleeding, non-oozing wound.

"I'm going to get AIDS and HPV everywhere, all over your desk!" he insists.

Luckily some other student says it before I have to. "You have AIDS?" they ask.
"Yes!" Says Andre.

I decide NOT to go there; I was almost going to ask him did he also have genital warts and then realised- - - I so do not want to go there.

Marguerite wants to go to the bathroom, but instead of saying so, she says, "Je voudrais aller au cinema, s'il vous plait?" Now we have a new euphemism for using the toilet, like spend a penny or powder my nose. All of the students make fun of her after this.

Daniel has some thought which he refuses to share with us. All the other students want to know more details. "Is it racist?" "Is it sexual?" This makes me think of 20 questions with Danny's inappropriate thought. "Let's play 20 questions with Daniel's thought!" I tell the class. "Is it an animal? Is it a vegetable? Is it a mineral? Is it a vegetable and an animal?"
The whole class cracks up. "Est-ce que Marguerite veut aller au cinema avec une legume?"

Also Jules gets dragged back into class by another teacher- it was odd because although she wasn't actually dragging him by his ear, that's what I saw- because when he asked to go to the loo, he was making out with his girlfriend in the hall.
I tell Leon to move in 4th period, because he won't shut up, as usual. He tells me to "suck my nuts" so I write him up. The other students all want to know if I wrote that on the referral. I hope they actually do something to him. He is an Angry Persian, which would make a good movie, or a character on SNL. I'm Angry! I'm Persian! (which really is Iranian except I suppose they don't like being called that anymore). Oh, and then the AP sends me back this email-

Mr. Cruella, when I saw the write-up on S. Student, I was shocked. The student has never had a write-up before, tardy referral or anything before. Consequently, I interviewed him and others from the class to verify what he said to you. They said that he said “You’re nuts.” I spoke to the students individually, have no reason to believe that they had conspired before as to give me bad information.

I gave student a SOS school for next weekend.

So now you're believing him over me, great.

We are doing advertisements in the other classes with reflexive verbs. One of the groups in 6th period has come up with an advertisement for a razor which has an emo person cutting himself/herself. This strikes me as something I should probably stop, but then again, I don't really care.

In 6th period, first Marc calls me "Daddy" which I fiercely object to, and then we have a smiling contest.
Also we are watching a video in which a French teenager is showing us the house in which he lives with his family. "Who is that man in the kitchen? Andree asks. Why is he in their kitchen?
He's the father! I tell her. No, he's just some strange man hanging around their house.
He's going to rape the teenager! Says Chantal.
This makes me laugh. No, I tell Chantal, you have to get the director's cut of these videos for that. You want to see the director's cut.
For some reason, this makes Chantal sulk for the rest of the class.

Trey is very concerned because he has heard somewhere, he does not know where, that the world will end in 2012.

"Because the sun might throw off fireballs or get close to the earth and burn us up!" he tells me.

His science seems a little sketchy.

No, that's not how it works, I tell him, the world isn't going to end. Whatever theory this is based on is too insane to actually combat so I pick the worst pieces.

The sun is billions of miles away from us, I tell him, It isn't going to blow up or whatever.

This takes a moment to register. Trey looks extremely cute when thinking hard about things.
Doesn't the sun change? he asks.

Well, it changes, I say, and yes, it can flare up, but - do you know how the sun works? I ask

And cutest of all is when Trey's trains of thought hit a dead end. It works by- the sun works by- and then he realises he doesn' t know.

Well, it's two gases, I tell him, and it works by nuclear fusion, Hydrogen fuses to make helium.

Oh! Says Trey. He looks unbelievably adorable. But can't you separate the gases?

No, because of gravity, I tell him.

Why is the sun made of gas, he asks me.

That's what the universe is made of, I tell him. There are planets also made out of gas.

Trey never knew this; well, it is fairly esoteric information. Jupiter Neptune Uranus and Saturn are all made out of gas. Especially Uranus (ha, I could not help it.)

Alex, as we discover, is not as dismissive of the idea that the world might end in 2012 as one might hope. He even knows the date that (crackpots) have predicted this.
December 12, 2012, he says. The Mayans said this.
O really, I said and how do we know this? We can't read their writings or anything.

Alex seems to think we can. They have a Rosetta stone, they can read it, he says.

I laugh derisively. You don't know what the Rosetta Stone is, do you?
Champollion discovered it in the 19th century, and it had the same text in hieroglyphics and ancient Greek and Hebrew so they could interpret the hieroglyphics. Why I can remember things like this, but not remember what I did yesterday, I don't know.

Also he bought a light fixture for his carport which takes some very bizarre bulb and do you think he bought the bulbs for it? No he did not. Even though the box says in big letters, bulbs not included, and it explains exactly what sort of bulb it needs.

So kiddies, that is what happens to people who don't have a television. They learn things.

Anyway, in other subjects:
I am so done with school. I am handing out packets and they are watching movies while doing the review packets for the remaining two weeks, I think. I just do not want to do anything anymore.

No, that is a lie. There are plenty of things that I want to do, none of them involve shrieking at teenagers though. So I am trying to end the term without having an aneurysm. The things I want to do are: Make beer; it is that time again! This year I'm going to try more hybrid beers; last year the gooseberry beer was very tasty, so I think I will do some beers with a fruit wine base, honey, 5-8 lbs of light malt extract, light hops, champagne yeast, and some seasonings. Then of course I'm going to make the Grand National flavoured beer again. It tastes just like the car!

Then I like the one Buick so much I would really love another and have my eye on a Turbo Riviera in Ohio. It's much less expensive than the GN but I'm sure it will be a lot of fun also.

Also I would like to go to Boston and visit the Mavis and Jerome. That would be fun.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

You Is A Bitch

I actually try very hard not to bitch

You don't try hard enough. Do you try not to whine? I think it's more important to avoid whining than bitching.

The above lines were excerpted from an email. I am being accused of bitching all the time! I have to say this in my defense; all instances of bitching are 110% justified. Ok? Get over it.

Let me give you three fairly recent instances of bitching and see what you think.

Tuesday because the LSAT class had a test Saturday, I had no LSAT class, so I came home early to snuggle with Trey. Then he is getting dressed to get ready for work, and his jeans have huge holes right under his ass! Not to mention they're emo jeans. They leave NOTHING to the imagination. Which is- well, it's not really fine- but pick your battles. He definitely cannot wear jeans to work, representing this company, in which he looks like the sleazy man-whore member of the Village People.
I tell him he can't wear those jeans to work. They're not right.
Now instead of saying Yes, dear, and changing, Trey does not want to do this! He complains, and says he has nothing to wear (this is a tiresome lie; he has at least 300 pairs of jeans everywhere). See, I do not want him to get fired, so - - - bitching ensues.

Then yesterday, I come home and Trey offers me some okra he has left over from the chicken wings he had for dinner. I neglect to mention the part about how he ate all the meat and gives me the scraps- see how I justly feel put upon? and say fine. He's - - trying, I suppose. Then he goes to the dresser- where some of his clothes are- and pulls the okra out of THE DRESSER DRAWER.
Why would he put it there? Why would anyone put it there? We already have what I refer to as a "bug problem" the way Bush administration officials refer to as "instability in Iraq". I do not understand this. Bitching ensues.

Or my brother. He wanted to fix his brakes- and since I was nicely dressed that day, I did not want to get dirty so I offered to consult and give useful advice. Alex, it turns out, has bought a BOTTLE JACK to jack up his car with. That is a little tiny thing that will tip over if you jack up your car with it. I've never actually seen anyone use one.
I try to explain that if you use this, the car will fall on your fool head.
Alex is, somewhat unsurprisingly, immune to this line of reasoning. No, he says, and gets more stubborn for some reason. It's will imposition, he claims.
This is a lie. If I were going to impose my will on people, there are a number of people I can think of whom I would impose my will on to HAVE a car fall on their heads, or better yet, something like an aircraft carrier.
I have been working on various awful cars for the last 15 years or so, I should, and do, know better; Alex once insisted that the coolant drained from the radiator from the top, thereby defying all laws of gravity.

I think we know the outcome.

Much bitching ensued.

Monday, April 09, 2007

My Day

What my day is like.

The alarm clock goes off at quarter til 5. I turn it off and wish I were dead. The alarm clock goes off at 5. I turn it off and wish I were dead; then I pray and meditate and contemplate what will be an acceptable time to get up. I manage to struggle out of bed at quarter til 6 and hope fervently that when I am a lawyer, I will be able to get up at a reasonable hour, such as 11.

Then I have my shower and turn off the heat. I manage not to knock the toothpaste into the loo today.

I keep thinking, as I leave, that I've forgotten something.

I stop at Burger King to get breakfast and feel queasy. I think about taking a day off this week.

I have to make copies in the morning.

Dominique threatens to sing "Alouette" in first period. I remember that I had a nightmare the other night, the central theme of which was Dominique "singing" Alouette. I live in fear of this because not only does she manage to slaughter the song musically, but also lyrically. "Je te plumeroo meroo" I feel that I'm going to end up in French Teacher hell, but then I've already been there.
Then another day Dominique gets kicked out of class for shouting "He's touching my balls!" over and over. The man who hit my car last week calls me to make arrangements for dropping off the cheque.

Diane and Olivier get in an argument about eating disorders, and reminisce, at length, about all the times I've flipped out on them. Fabrice tells me that I am an evil robot.

Trey wants to go to the Dogwood Festival this weekend, but I dimly remember having gone and it having been boring. I think I would rather spend the weekend renting a paddleboat and going out on a lake somewhere and rowing around. I try to think of how angry Trey might be if I reject his plan and propose something else and will it be worth it.

In 2nd period, Rose tries, loudly, to conspire with the other girls. "Ask if you can go to the bathroom so you can get me a drink." In 2nd period, Alice is angry at me. I'm going to bite your clock off the wall! She threatens. She fails to carry out this threat, unfortunately. Rose is busy writing, in English, I don't love Alan anymore, which, of course, reminds me of Don't Ask Me Why. Alice hates me and says so several times during the rest of the class. Ah, oui. I say. I HATE you, she insists. Alice, Aline, and Rose start a long exchange about how much they hate this class and how they are going to take Spanish next year. Rachel gets kicked out of class at the beginning and refuses to leave and pulls the head off of one of the dolls. Plus, she RAPS, which I find EXTREMELY irritating. I want to tell her to turn round because her face is frankly not her best feature but somehow avoid saying this.

3rd period all giggles when Andre says that he took a shower. Jules is apparently high again and hates school. He has something rude written on his t-shirt in Spanish which I do not feel like translating. Something about a donkey. Amelie tells Andre, Your fingernails are so long! They're like Mr Thomas's! Irene is angry again and makes faces because I won't let her use my book. Regis tells me, I hate it when you smile like that! It makes me so mad, but it makes me laugh at the same time. Irene is angry at me on Wednesday. I seriously don't like you anymore, she informs me. You are so URRRR! I wonder what Gone with the Wind would be like remade with my classes. Irene could be Scarlett, and instead of saying, As God is my Witness, I'll never be hungry again! She would be like, Omigod! This sucks so much. Urrrr! And Cesar could be Rhett, and instead of saying Frankly my Dear I don't give a damn, he would say, Tu as besoin de mourir.

Leon and Guillaume flirt shamelessly with each other, but they do not bother Marie the way they usually do.

I spend my lunch, pasta with deer sausage, reading an article in Arts and Letters Daily by one of the gentlemen who wrote the Bell Curve and now is positing that Jews are smarter than everyone else. Well, if they're so smart why didn't they conquer some place and go live there. Heck, there are a lot of sparsely populated states they could have had instead of Palestine, and then we wouldn't be hearing on the radio all the time about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Anyone with half a lick of sense would have read their history and decided it was time to make a fresh start, somewhere their enemies WEREN'T. Also I fill out my Kaplan timesheet, an excruciatingly tedious process.

Chantal decides she does not want to sit down in 6th period. I want to sit next to you, she says. No, I say, go sit down. How come you never give me detention? she asks. I offer her an Altoid as an inducement to sit down. They're poisoned! Announces another student. Mr. Thomas poisons his Altoids. I decide to take attendance instead of pointing out that they aren't worth murdering. Chantal gets kicked out of class. Jeannette and Andree are shouting at each other across the room. I yell at 6th period for talking about russian roulette. Noelle really, really hates me because I took her picture and have failed to return it yet. I wouldn't hate you so much if you weren't such an awful teacher! She tells me. I make the contrapositive of this statement, a move which briefly gets their attention.

For some reason, all of the children are talking like Borat today.

I have agreed to chaperone Tony's field trip to Helen with the German students. This reminds me of a song I learnt a very very very long time ago. Stop! Komm Hier! Geh auf die Seite! I wonder what this will be like.