i think i recycle my desires

:do you think abba would want a kindle?
:no, but i know i want one
: joy...(lame)
:don't you want one?
:yes... no.. i'm torn.  i think i want a library
:yeah i know, you've been saying that ever since we watched beauty and the beast
:what?  i thought it was a new desire!
:no, you've wanted it
:oh. that's lame.
:i guess it means you're consistent
:maybe.. how old was i?
:maybe middle school?  i don't know.  you were like "that's what I want!"
:hmm!

The Devil Does NOT Wear Prada

her smile is as sweet and sticky
as candy in a toddler's grasp,
her voice is kindly and teasing
indulgent even, hinting.
she never raised her voice--
at least i don't remember,
and there's times when i've had genuine joy
at her rules and gracious fetters.
she smiles and giggles;
and even insults
are hard to distinguish.
her approval makes the sunshine,
her dismissal, acrid rain.
so hard to describe her
like grasping shadows
like stuttering phrases
like swallowing dry pills.
i don't want to do her injustice
yet to do justice would be just so.
the depths of evil shudder at her presence
or maybe her ingenuity.
how can one be the balance of paradox
of a muffin ladened with the asp's sting?
how can a simple message
break the dam impenetrable?
how do simple questions,
insinuations, thoughts
do so much to break down and demolish
everything that i have wrought?
my own two hands are testimony
of the whirring of my brain
yet i'm at a loss of words and heart
when i sense her slight disdain.
words cannot describe
words cannot describe
describe her words cannot!
and now as i sit thinking
serene in my calm repose
the hysteria has long since faded
humor has replaced the hate.
i want to do her full justice
i don't want to exaggerate
i want it to be true and true.
right now i can smile
yet i still wonder in disbelief
how did such a woman come to be?
How?
Actually, don't tell me.

random

so the clock on the wall perpetually says 12:43am.. or pm i suppose.  it's an analog.
last night i dreamt of my GCA kids.
i was looking for them around the school.  it was a little panicky.

um i took a 6 hr nap waking up at 11pm with no homework done.
so i reluctantly started it..
everything in me was crying NOOOOOO because i don't want to cultivate my bad habits.

anywhooz after reading the Aeneid, i felt a strange sense of satisfaction.. and i was hungry.

and yet all i had were carrot sticks.

so instead, i surfed yelp.  dude i love yelp.

food is SO COOL you know?  how amazing it can be?  it's CRAZY.
i love service too.

when i was a kid, i didn't mind being rough n' tumble..  but after being pampered a bit.. MayUnn.. i likez it! hahaha

first day of school

i was nervous AND i was the first one there... i left early b/c of my ankle.
i met some people.
it was interesting/awkward at first but by the time Silver got there (the head of the program) everything improved immensely.  and by everything, i mean my awkwardness.

Silver, sort of reminds me of a female Dumbledore with Alan Rickman expressions.

My first class, modern poetics, looks fun / demanding / doable ... exciting?

My second class, looks daunting but I'm already excited.   My prof is both intelligent and intelligible.  (He says some FASCINATING things and 2 hours went by quicker than I thought!  Starting with The Odyssey, and I'm glad that I finally get to study it!)

I love the world of books, camaraderie, and large, mellifluous, three-syllables-or-more worded language.

Let's see if i like this.

5 weeks; 4 papers.
5 weeks; 4 papers.

I'll be doing this without all-nighter buddies, in a foreign setting (relatively), with a busy summer.  If i still love it, well, then... I'll love it. :)

even though i don't feel like laughing right now..

i saw this "it has matapoles.." and burst out giggling.

thank you tom, for always make me laugh.


(he was writing about a poem; he meant "metaphors")




(in other news feeling really discontented about my current life path. maybe i shouldn't watch movies about young upstarts hard-core practicing to be the future performing artists of today.. and then look up the actors/actresses and realize that they are either my age or younger.  it's a strange feeling to watch movie stars and know that they're not older than me)

i'm so ranted out that all i'll write is this:

when you're at school with no discipline policy...of COURSE kids stop listening to you.


So today I was just so full of it from the 8th graders.
about to explode

then Sharon comes and brings me this gift and tells me thank you and how much she appreciates me and I smiled and said thank you, and honest to goodness, almost cried.

yesterday i got chewed out by my boss
went to bed with stewing thoughts
woke up this morning, walked to school in the rain
wrote a "list poem" of "apologies"
sat at my desk glum
then Tom (a student) walks in and gives me chocolate

"Here"



:-) :-)


i guess it's these serendipitous AOKs (acts of kindness) that keeps teachers coming back.