n. infantile pattern of suckle-swallow movement in which the tongue is placed between incisor teeth or between alveolar ridges during initial stage of swallowing (if persistent can lead to various dental abnormalities) v. [content removed due to Bush campaign to clean up the internet] n. act of nyah-nyah v. pursuing with relentless abandon the need to masticate and thrust the world into every bodily incarnation in order to transform it, via the act of salivation, into nutritive agency

Thursday, March 17, 2011

0.5 Done

Pretty spectacularly amazing dreams last night... starting with a slow build-up toward flying powers for yours truly. And ending with my sister saving herself, our mother, Herald, and me... via her broomstick, as she lulls the anti-pagan christian fanatic kidnappers who have captured A's family in an attempt to eradicate all witches, pagans, agnostics, and democrats from the earth--primarily A and her witchery, and secondarily, her irritated family. But A sings them into an at-sea stupor while transferring her family to a dingy under her control.

First, our mother as they discuss transferal: "Now last time, A, this was a pretty bumpy ride," the mother-figure says before committing to the broomstick. "Are you sure it's going to be more calm this time?"

"Fer Fuck's sake," A replies. "Get on the goddamn stick while the offer's still there."

Ignoring the history of head-over-heals-into-the-water (off the back of straw) while climbing aboard the broomstick, our mother sniffs... and finally climbs aboard to be safely transferred to the dingy. Me next, but as soon as I'm taken care of, I'm panicking: "What about Herald? He's still aboard! Heraaaaaaald! The christians still have him!"

Up floats Herald; front paws crossed, he levitates and lands on the broomstick. Then he tries to trample A in order to get to me, grin on his face as A posits her finger in my philosophy: "Don't fucking let your dog walk all over me, goddammit! Get control of him and be an adult, not a stooge!"

Herald and I land in each other's laps, and I apologize for his trampling, not in the least bit sorry. In fact, so happy. And the dingy and broom take off, safe from the christian fuck-heads.


English 100 class = all done. Out of 18 students, 15 were high school kids, and the CC doesn't want to talk about the quality of classes under "running start" imperatives because it pays their bills way better than not-taking-high-school-moneys does. Basically, it means I'm teaching a high school class with a few returning students... but with no training to teach high school students, who are at -- guess what -- a high-school reading and writing level. I keep thinking: if I wanted to teach high school, I'd get the degree for it and double my wages (living wage!). But no, they keep pawning off their kiddos to us, and we keep taking them because the admin just loves the extra cash. And I keep going along with everything, totally everything, because I'm too scared to search for something else, especially since there are parts of teaching I love very much (being in charge?).

I raised the issue of high-school student caps in the last department meeting, and totally-slash-completely got fobbed off. Like I was a hater. But seriously, I don't think I should have more than 1/2 high school students in my college classes. This quarter's class was the biggest bullshit and lazy-ass immature group of 'college students' I've ever taught: with the lowest reading comprehension one could possibly imagine, and the lowest turn-in rate. Most of them should have flunked, but is that what the college experience is all about? All I can say is that education in this country is fucked up: why try to teach R before we teach G? There's little point to it, as far as I can figure.

Thank god for my other class, my creative writing once-a-year for-the-first-time but maybe never again if this overall circus is what it's about class. It was interesting and irregular and still not as magnificent as I imagined although today's presentations went well. Really well, for the most part.

But even so... so very many reservations.


Time for dreams, NM is coming tomorrow and I've avoided being an in-person friend to her for over a month, time to change that, along with the rest, I guess.

Roller Derby this weekend.
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