Snow-boy ... I would have liked that snow day (yesterday) better if had been a snow day, yet as a Wednesday it was still pretty good. Ive an essay due today that I started yesterday, first-drafted by nine and final pencil version was done by 830 this morning.
All because of a little bit of snow that kept students out of their school and thus outside of the gym after the school day as well.
Also, tutoring was postponed until tonight.
[I started this this morning, I've picked it up again sitting on the bus en route to bball prac]
We had a class today on Amish communities and I doodled an Amish man on my feedback sheet. The class is usually boring and I get all my best doodles done during it. I told my art teacher this through my reflection paper and she wrote back that I was "too funny". I had a teacher in Gr 11 who would give us bonus marks for doodles we added to tests or in class assignments.
I think I'll do that in my own class, in fact I may do that in my next placement.
At practice tonight I'm going to have them moving with more conviction and more speed. Not dashing around like maniacs, but when the whistle goesthe balls stop, when I call for a huddle they won't walk or lag. If anyone does we'll do three push ups together, and we'll keep doing it till we move the speed I want us to.
That's one goal for today, I'll set a second one before the bus ride ends.
--b
Thursday, February 3
Wednesday, February 2
When the chips are down
Is there a commercial about eating chips in a quiet place, like a library? I am sure there is and I am sure that if there isn't there will be one out next week. Then, if the latter is true, I am sitting through the taping of said future commercial.
If it is candid and if it does air next week I am going to be the blurred out face with the beeped out dialogue that kicks the chair out from under the star of the commercial. She'll land on all fours with the chip bag next to her, the chips in a mess around her like a bowl of corn flakes that dropped on the floor. She'll look dumb-founded up at me and make as if to explain about the commercial and I'll lean over all smartly and say something like
"I'll bet you can't eat just one ... off that floor."
and i'll pick one up and crush it in my hand, letting the bits fall to the carpet again.
While I walk away you'll be able to tell that I know I picked a dumb thing to say but we always pick the dumb things to say in a moment of confrontation and edit them in our heads for the next several days.
At least I do. I'm still thinking about a group of dudes at the bar last week. There was an improve group on stage and the dudes thought that everyone wanted to hear their stories about girls and drinking. I wanted to tell them that it wasn't their show, so I did.
It felt awesome. For a moment. Then the dudes realized that I hadn't taken away their ability to from words and began forming some in my direction.
Amazing what a little motivation can do to an inarticulate group of young men. Before I told them that no one wanted to listen to them they were quite happy calling each other inappropriate names, now they were even more happy to have someone that wasn't them to call these things.
It took them a bit to say more than oddly placed nouns and verbs, but once their balls got rolling again they appeared able to take on anything. Luckily my table was filled with Anythings, and the table to their right was filled with more Anythings.
Nostalgia tells me that I coolly reminded them that it still wasn't their show and they should take their conversation outside to where no one would listen. Then I smirked at my table of Anythings and turned back to the stage and gestured to the improve team to continue with the show. Later that night we all shared a beer and told our own versions of the story over and over again, changing it a little bit at a time to include the knocking over of chairs and a small stand off of some sort.
Of course the real thing went nothing like that and was significantly less eventful, just as is the case in the library right now. The boys likely said something back to me, but I had no idea what they were saying because I was still shaking from the nerves that were building up. The chip eater has long finished with her snacking and has gone home having already finished the assignment that I've been writing this post instead of.
If it is candid and if it does air next week I am going to be the blurred out face with the beeped out dialogue that kicks the chair out from under the star of the commercial. She'll land on all fours with the chip bag next to her, the chips in a mess around her like a bowl of corn flakes that dropped on the floor. She'll look dumb-founded up at me and make as if to explain about the commercial and I'll lean over all smartly and say something like
"I'll bet you can't eat just one ... off that floor."
and i'll pick one up and crush it in my hand, letting the bits fall to the carpet again.
While I walk away you'll be able to tell that I know I picked a dumb thing to say but we always pick the dumb things to say in a moment of confrontation and edit them in our heads for the next several days.
At least I do. I'm still thinking about a group of dudes at the bar last week. There was an improve group on stage and the dudes thought that everyone wanted to hear their stories about girls and drinking. I wanted to tell them that it wasn't their show, so I did.
It felt awesome. For a moment. Then the dudes realized that I hadn't taken away their ability to from words and began forming some in my direction.
Amazing what a little motivation can do to an inarticulate group of young men. Before I told them that no one wanted to listen to them they were quite happy calling each other inappropriate names, now they were even more happy to have someone that wasn't them to call these things.
It took them a bit to say more than oddly placed nouns and verbs, but once their balls got rolling again they appeared able to take on anything. Luckily my table was filled with Anythings, and the table to their right was filled with more Anythings.
Nostalgia tells me that I coolly reminded them that it still wasn't their show and they should take their conversation outside to where no one would listen. Then I smirked at my table of Anythings and turned back to the stage and gestured to the improve team to continue with the show. Later that night we all shared a beer and told our own versions of the story over and over again, changing it a little bit at a time to include the knocking over of chairs and a small stand off of some sort.
Of course the real thing went nothing like that and was significantly less eventful, just as is the case in the library right now. The boys likely said something back to me, but I had no idea what they were saying because I was still shaking from the nerves that were building up. The chip eater has long finished with her snacking and has gone home having already finished the assignment that I've been writing this post instead of.
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