The 8- and 9-year-old kids yesterday were a fairly fun lot. Noisy and goofy but generally fun. The one bad actor left in the middle of the day after throwing a tantrum over what the cafeteria was serving for subsidized lunch. Her mother came and took her out, sharing with the staff that her kid was justified in being angry, as according to her, the school serves 'nasty food'. Bye-bye, now.
I then gave them a spelling test, with words like:
carried
hurried
daily
wrapped
etc.
I added three 'challenge' words of my own, purely for my own amusement:
"Truthfulness. Truthfulness. The politician's speech lacked truthfulness. Truthfulness".
"Institution. Institution. My uncle went nuts and we put him in an institution. Institution".
"Salami. Salami. My mother made us salami sandwiches. Salami".
Out of a class of twenty-two, four spelled truthfulness correctly, one girl nailed institution, and surprisingly, nobody got salami. The closest was 'salame'. The others were things like 'slammy', 'salmy', 'solomny' etc. I guess it's better than the misspellings of 'wrapped', with three unrelated examples of 'raped'.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Sharing a computer: Sharala, I hear you.
Currently this is the first time I've been on my machine for real since yesterday morning, as L has taken to chat rooms and sharing her interests, under... uhhh... 'adult' supervision. Webkinz started this, and now she's moved to Nick-o-Life or some such thing. She got all upset last night over some cyber kid asking her to leave a cyber room, and I was at a loss.
Right now I'm looking out the window, watching my semi-retired Latin King neighbors bringing new dogs (guess the breed! Go on, guess!) into the house, and thinking, 'a feud with a neighbor is a big deal; a feud with somebody online, with no physical presence, means nothing'.
I'm back in Elementaries, and back into Special Ed, for real. I'm okay with that. I like people with real disabilities. I could not possibly care less about the 'BD' people, behavioral disordered. No offense, but really, screw them. I am not well behaved, at all, and I don't see anyone in the real world bending over backwards to facilitate me. You got a problem with your behavior? Yeah, that's right, it's your problem. The only reason I got away with my hideous past behavior was from living in ghettoes, where my hideous behavior was not performed for profit. Which made a difference with the police, and why I understand why Richie Daley will never, ever be prosecuted for corruption.
On the other hand, I like real Special Ed. I had a girl today with actual (!) dyslexia, in which she alternated letters on either side of a capital letter for her name! I could have kissed her for being Learning Disabled. I felt great helping her out and was totally fine all day. The kids were a pain the butt but fascinating, rewarding, grateful, and wonderful. I love genuine Special Ed.
I have no problem shoving a rock up a hill if it's not the rock's fault.
However, we're in for major, major budget cuts. Big-time. I would like to think this means more work for me, but it doesn't, and it resulted in my doing an application this evening at a temp agency while sitting at a folding table with three of my high school students, competing with them for part-time work. At least this time, while filling out a W4, when I told the dumbass presenting ghetto-trash to stop kicking the table while I wrote down my SSI#, he did it without getting f---ing lippy. Punk.
While buying a 6-pack at the grocery store, which is filled with both dummy College kids from the East Side and also Mexicans, since the other full-line grocery store went out of business, I ran into a student of mine. I said nothing, but he said, "Hey, Mr. LN! You were my Media Sub!" I responded, "Hola!" And then told his elderly grandmother in a courtesy cart, "Buenos Tardes!" To which she giggled and responded in kind.
Right now I'm looking out the window, watching my semi-retired Latin King neighbors bringing new dogs (guess the breed! Go on, guess!) into the house, and thinking, 'a feud with a neighbor is a big deal; a feud with somebody online, with no physical presence, means nothing'.
I'm back in Elementaries, and back into Special Ed, for real. I'm okay with that. I like people with real disabilities. I could not possibly care less about the 'BD' people, behavioral disordered. No offense, but really, screw them. I am not well behaved, at all, and I don't see anyone in the real world bending over backwards to facilitate me. You got a problem with your behavior? Yeah, that's right, it's your problem. The only reason I got away with my hideous past behavior was from living in ghettoes, where my hideous behavior was not performed for profit. Which made a difference with the police, and why I understand why Richie Daley will never, ever be prosecuted for corruption.
On the other hand, I like real Special Ed. I had a girl today with actual (!) dyslexia, in which she alternated letters on either side of a capital letter for her name! I could have kissed her for being Learning Disabled. I felt great helping her out and was totally fine all day. The kids were a pain the butt but fascinating, rewarding, grateful, and wonderful. I love genuine Special Ed.
I have no problem shoving a rock up a hill if it's not the rock's fault.
However, we're in for major, major budget cuts. Big-time. I would like to think this means more work for me, but it doesn't, and it resulted in my doing an application this evening at a temp agency while sitting at a folding table with three of my high school students, competing with them for part-time work. At least this time, while filling out a W4, when I told the dumbass presenting ghetto-trash to stop kicking the table while I wrote down my SSI#, he did it without getting f---ing lippy. Punk.
While buying a 6-pack at the grocery store, which is filled with both dummy College kids from the East Side and also Mexicans, since the other full-line grocery store went out of business, I ran into a student of mine. I said nothing, but he said, "Hey, Mr. LN! You were my Media Sub!" I responded, "Hola!" And then told his elderly grandmother in a courtesy cart, "Buenos Tardes!" To which she giggled and responded in kind.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
At a Loss.
I'm doing a thing I used to do all the time, every year or so, and disengaging from things. I have no idea why I do this. Usually it has to do with stress. Typically, as well, it has to do with dealing with a lot of people in unfamiliar situations, when I'm not sure what I'm doing or what to do.
I'm not checking emails, I'm avoiding people I know. I'm not answering phone calls. All I'm doing is getting up in the morning, going to work, coming home, and that's it. The Partner has made suggestions about 'doing projects', but, tellingly, all the projects look like to me is more work. Why would I go to work, then come home and feel like doing yet more work?
I'm thinking about work, and when I come home I don't really want to think at all, and all any of my projects involve is thought and effort and I'm tired.
I'm not washing dishes, I'm not cleaning cat boxes, and I just washed every stitch I own after not washing any of my small collection of presentable clothing for three weeks. I have to take out trash today and I don't even want to do that.
Last week was the 'project' was fixing the refrigerator. This was an involuntary 'project' that went on for three days of diagnosis and parts location, and resulted in learning all about the electrical wiring of the refrigerator and the interactions of automatic defrost components. Now, of course, I know precisely how the refrigerator works and if anything else goes wrong with it, I'll be able to figure it out in less than half an hour. This latest 'project' occurred due to an inability to afford a service call from an appliance repairman. As it was, $70 got spent in components (defrost thermostat, $12; defrost timer, $21; circulation fan, $23; shipping, $14) but it was a hell of a lot cheaper than what I know the parts would have cost from a repairman, plus labor.
For the record, the defrost thermostat burned out (a common component failure), which resulted in the timer not turning on the heating element in the freezer compartment, which resulted in ice build-up, which blocked the circulation fan, which burned out. The ice blocked the circulation ducts to the main compartment, which got no cold air, which spoiled all the food in the refrigerator. Several continuity tests later, and a really stupid and severe burn on my right hand from contacting the energized heating element, the problems were accounted for and the thing is now fixed. Until some other damn thing breaks.
The 'project' before that was doing the front brake pads on the Wango (1986Honda Wagovan), which I had to do myself because I can't afford $300 for a brake job. Why $300? Well, the front rotors are shot. They are badly scored and warped, and on Hondas the front discs are held on with invariably rusted-in Phillips-head screws. Removing and replacing the front rotors is a job and a half, the screws would have to be drilled out and retapped, and for good measure I'm sure it would result in a necessity for wheel bearing replacement. So I got the last set of pre-1993 brake pads in the county and simply installed them on the toasted and scored front rotors.
$22 out the door.
I'm looking forward to the weather imporving so I can start riding my bicycle again. I'm sick of the burden of a car. I'm sick of the burdens of 'modern life' that require so many support mechanisms to function. I'm tired of going to work. And I'm just plain tired.
I'm not checking emails, I'm avoiding people I know. I'm not answering phone calls. All I'm doing is getting up in the morning, going to work, coming home, and that's it. The Partner has made suggestions about 'doing projects', but, tellingly, all the projects look like to me is more work. Why would I go to work, then come home and feel like doing yet more work?
I'm thinking about work, and when I come home I don't really want to think at all, and all any of my projects involve is thought and effort and I'm tired.
I'm not washing dishes, I'm not cleaning cat boxes, and I just washed every stitch I own after not washing any of my small collection of presentable clothing for three weeks. I have to take out trash today and I don't even want to do that.
Last week was the 'project' was fixing the refrigerator. This was an involuntary 'project' that went on for three days of diagnosis and parts location, and resulted in learning all about the electrical wiring of the refrigerator and the interactions of automatic defrost components. Now, of course, I know precisely how the refrigerator works and if anything else goes wrong with it, I'll be able to figure it out in less than half an hour. This latest 'project' occurred due to an inability to afford a service call from an appliance repairman. As it was, $70 got spent in components (defrost thermostat, $12; defrost timer, $21; circulation fan, $23; shipping, $14) but it was a hell of a lot cheaper than what I know the parts would have cost from a repairman, plus labor.
For the record, the defrost thermostat burned out (a common component failure), which resulted in the timer not turning on the heating element in the freezer compartment, which resulted in ice build-up, which blocked the circulation fan, which burned out. The ice blocked the circulation ducts to the main compartment, which got no cold air, which spoiled all the food in the refrigerator. Several continuity tests later, and a really stupid and severe burn on my right hand from contacting the energized heating element, the problems were accounted for and the thing is now fixed. Until some other damn thing breaks.
The 'project' before that was doing the front brake pads on the Wango (1986Honda Wagovan), which I had to do myself because I can't afford $300 for a brake job. Why $300? Well, the front rotors are shot. They are badly scored and warped, and on Hondas the front discs are held on with invariably rusted-in Phillips-head screws. Removing and replacing the front rotors is a job and a half, the screws would have to be drilled out and retapped, and for good measure I'm sure it would result in a necessity for wheel bearing replacement. So I got the last set of pre-1993 brake pads in the county and simply installed them on the toasted and scored front rotors.
$22 out the door.
I'm looking forward to the weather imporving so I can start riding my bicycle again. I'm sick of the burden of a car. I'm sick of the burdens of 'modern life' that require so many support mechanisms to function. I'm tired of going to work. And I'm just plain tired.
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