August 26, 2009
August 24, 2009
August 9, 2009
Sundaying
Feeling melancholy. It's been a tough and sad day.
Here's the new video for "What A Catch, Donnie." Patrick, make me feel better.
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Here's the new video for "What A Catch, Donnie." Patrick, make me feel better.
August 7, 2009
Clowns and Cliches
When I was little, I hated clowns. They terrified me. But, my Mom would still take me to the circus. I'd shriek in terror as soon as the clowns came out, burying my head into her sweater. I'd watch the clowns between my fingers and, much to my chagrin, they'd so something kind of funny like harass an audience member or slip on a banana peel. I'd try to stifle my laughter because these were clowns, my sworn enemy! My laughter was a betrayal.
Well, that's how I feel about this clip about cliche '80s heavy metal guys. I didn't want to like it. I didn't want to find it funny. But I did. Just watch:
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Well, that's how I feel about this clip about cliche '80s heavy metal guys. I didn't want to like it. I didn't want to find it funny. But I did. Just watch:
August 5, 2009
"Don't Ever Change," And Other Yearbook Niceties
For the past five weeks, I've been working as an aide to an autistic about-to-be sixth grader in a summer school program. Tomorrow is our last day of summer school. I've never been an aide before. I've never worked with an autistic kid before. It's pretty surprising that I was even given the position. Oh believe me, I bemoaned it. I've been trying to get more classroom experience and to be assigned to one kid seemed, well, limp. One kid. One audience. One focus. It seemed like a demotion.
What I didn't expect was how rewarding it's been to get close to one student. My boy is my boy. He looks like an illustration straight out of a Roald Dahl book; skinny spaghetti limbs, small black eyes like they were drawn on his face with the tip of a ballpoint pen, and big ears that poke out of his omnipresent baseball cap. I look out for him. I anticipate his needs and I take delight in his successes. We have our own inside jokes (I pretend his flip-flops talk to me and he cracks up in fits of laughter. Maybe you have to be there.) He's gotten used to me being by his side. At first, he was so timid that he'd recoil when I'd enter his personal space. Now, he leans in when I look over his shoulder. I beam with pride when he gives the right answer. He's my little dude.
What I also didn't expect was how close I've become with the other students. Since I'm working with my one little dude, I sit in with the class for every period of the day. Consequently, I know them better than any of their other teachers who only see them for one period. I help the kids with their class work, I discipline them when they get rowdy, and I take genuine interest in their lives. Lately, I've been bringing in pretzels to share with them during math class. Hey, a little salted bribery never hurts. Some of the kids confide in me, telling me about the struggles they face at home. I listen and give them the best advice that I can. It's been a privilege. I really care about these kids.
I'm sad to say goodbye to my little dude tomorrow. I'm sad to say goodbye to the whole class tomorrow. So it goes. Don't ever change.
What I didn't expect was how rewarding it's been to get close to one student. My boy is my boy. He looks like an illustration straight out of a Roald Dahl book; skinny spaghetti limbs, small black eyes like they were drawn on his face with the tip of a ballpoint pen, and big ears that poke out of his omnipresent baseball cap. I look out for him. I anticipate his needs and I take delight in his successes. We have our own inside jokes (I pretend his flip-flops talk to me and he cracks up in fits of laughter. Maybe you have to be there.) He's gotten used to me being by his side. At first, he was so timid that he'd recoil when I'd enter his personal space. Now, he leans in when I look over his shoulder. I beam with pride when he gives the right answer. He's my little dude.
What I also didn't expect was how close I've become with the other students. Since I'm working with my one little dude, I sit in with the class for every period of the day. Consequently, I know them better than any of their other teachers who only see them for one period. I help the kids with their class work, I discipline them when they get rowdy, and I take genuine interest in their lives. Lately, I've been bringing in pretzels to share with them during math class. Hey, a little salted bribery never hurts. Some of the kids confide in me, telling me about the struggles they face at home. I listen and give them the best advice that I can. It's been a privilege. I really care about these kids.
I'm sad to say goodbye to my little dude tomorrow. I'm sad to say goodbye to the whole class tomorrow. So it goes. Don't ever change.
August 4, 2009
This Is Pretty Much What I'll Do In One Week
I'm going home to Chicago one week from today. I am unbelievably excited. This is what I'll do except when I say that I'll fuck it up, it will be with love. Yes, I will fuck Chicago up with my love:
