Crunching Numbers

Had a busy weekend when many of my friends wanted to celebrate my birthday.  I agreed, out of respect for them, but I really wasn't that interested.  Every year I get older, but it's not often at all that I feel older.  Wasn't the case this year.  Working in a high school will do that to you.

Ran into some old friends from the good old days.  Arianne seems to be doing well for herself.  Still as adorable as ever.

Had my first parent-teacher inteview from the other side of the table.  Went faster than I'd expected.  Was tempted to raise a glass with the other teachers after, but I was too spent.  Maybe next week.

Next week, I think, will be my last week.  Not sure how to break it to the kids yet.  Or if I even should.  I came in unexpectedly; maybe fading out the same way would--

No.  I owe them a goodbye, at least.  A handshake.  Some encouragement.  Many of them are going to go far, and while I don't expect them to ever thank me (or remember me), I still want to let them know that someone's rooting for them.

It was Jordana's last day.  I wasn't sure how to say goodbye to her, or if it even was a goodbye.  More like a "see you around someday," I hope.  We exchanged fake-name fecesbook accounts, but I don't think that'll lead to much.  How many of my old friends do I actually keep up with?

I guess my lack of posting means that I'm getting into the groove.  Definitely getting more used to it.

It's Eric Clapton's sixty-ninth birthday today, so here's my favourite Clapton jam.  Clapton is, was, and will forever be god.

The high school's public speaking contest happened last week.  I took a photo of some of the trophies, most of which bear my younger brother's name.  My speeches were always too long and/or controversial to be selected for the contest.  Found my older brother's graduating-class roster in the back of the stage.  I emailed him a photo of it.  Haven't heard back from him, yet.

Old habits and times die hard.  I spent some time with the sound crew, getting things set up for the contest.  Wrapping up wires, moving lights and speakers, and talking to the head of the sound crew about the crazy antics I used to get into in my time here.

Jordie and I met Ms. Forget again yesterday.  First time we've seen her in, damn, must be 7 years.  She wasn't just a teacher, but an inspiration.  The fact that two of her top students are both back in her school and studying to be teachers probably makes her proud, and she should be.

She brought in a photo of the cast from the play that Jordie starred in.  She had to leave to go teach a class, and managed to give a Ms. Forget a heartfelt thank you and goodbye in the doorway.  I could hear Jordie's voice wavering.  I couldn't blame her.

I had a chance to speak with Ms. Forget a bit longer.  She had a lot of surgery ahead of her but christ is if she wasn't as optimistic as she ever was.  I told her was I was planning; going back to McGill in the fall.  She reminded me to get my application in as the deadline is this goddamn weekend.

I've since sent in the application and I'll see what happens.

The news angered me.  Posting the song as a tribute.

Happier news.  Taught for the first time today.  Taught a Sec. 3 Drama class about commedia dell'arte.  Tried to reinforce the importance of characters and of being in character.  We'll see how (poorly) that plays out.

Forgive the unintended pun.

Heard from my old Drama teacher today.  She says that she'll visit tomorrow during the lunch hour.  Not sure how to break the news to Jordie.  I'll try to surprise her.

Another week down.  Hard to get anything done this week.  Olympics to blame.  Hell, when I was student here, I don't remember ever getting to spend an entire period in the gym, watching hockey on two big screens.

A teacher was standing around with a giant Canadian flag.  The buzzer rang and he waved it around like a boss.  Knew it was Mc. Mac before I walked up to him.

The teachers of the English Department left on time, eager to get outta there on a Friday afternoon.  I can't blame them.  I'd have done the same, but I was meeting with a friend that evening and had a few hours to kill before my bus.  Same for Jordana, so we spent a good while shitshooting with the office to ourselves.

We talked about our Drama teacher, Ms. Forget, who'd taught both of us when we were students here.  I put Jordie in touch with her, and we sent Ms. Forget a photo of her two former stars, attached to a heartfelt email.  She says she'll try to drop by and pay us a visit next week.  I'm looking forward to it.

Jordie had to leave before I did.  On her way out, we talked about how, all those years ago, we'd known of each other when we worked together in that musical, but we never really knew each other.

Jordana and I, both former students and now student teachers at our old high school, decided to nostalgia it up during the lunch hour today.  So we paid a visit to the library, which has since been moved to a new spot: across the hall from the new gym, without enough soundproofing.

Both of the old librarians were still there.  They recognized me, but not Jordie.  The head librarian pulled out our yearbooks and we all talked a lot about the past.

The other day while I was with the Sec.4 Drama group, I found some of the remains of Ms. Forget's Drama Room on the stage, including three aged, fading scripts for the Flapper production that Jordie had the lead role in years ago.  I surprised her by presenting her with one of the scripts from her show.  Looked for a bit like she was going to shed a tear or two.  I had a hard time rifling through those pages, myself.

She found the yearbook page about the play, and there was her younger self in the front row of the picture.  I didn't recognize her.  There were a lot of my friends in that picture.  The only one I'd seen recently was Pat, who I ran into out of the blue one day while walking in the opposite direction that he was driving.  He pulled over and gave me a lift.

Jordie found my picture in my yearbook and laughed.  Can't blame her.  If she'd read the paragraph I'd written there, she might've made her laugh intentionally.

The teachers in the English Department invited me to their weekly "go drinking on Thursday" night.  I'll take them up on that offer some time, but not tonight.

Walked down the back hall on way out and there were some teachers talking to each other.  One of them looked at me and lit up.  I thought maybe there was a friend of hers behind me.

She shook my hand and started telling her colleague how she taught me years ago.  I probably should've told her she hadn't aged a bit, because a) it would have made her feel good, and b) it was true.  It was good to see Annie again, and we'll have to catch up later.  She was gone for a while for medical reasons, but now Annie's okay, hence the choice of music.

Another shocker while still on my way out.  I discovered that one of the new teachers, a certain Ms. Taylor, is a girl I'd gone to school with.  I hadn't expected to see her in the same college I was in, and here she is now.  Huh.

Another old friend drove past me while I waited for the bus.  No idea she was still in this town.  Next time, I'll have to get her attention, and maybe bum a ride.

Had the day off on Monday, so today was the first day of my second week.  Would've been better if I'd understood my schedule and didn't show up late, missing half the day.

Even more surprising was how the day ended.  I got to the bus stop and waited with a bunch of the students.  One of them asked me a question and we start chatting.  Turns out she wasn't a student, but another student teacher.

Not only that, but she used to be a student here, too, and one involved with the drama department as well.  She had the lead role in the school play two years after I was the lead in mine.  I was just a stagehand during her production, I think.  She graduated the year after me.

We spent the whole bus ride talking about the glory days.  Teachers we'd loved, those we wouldn't forget, those we wished to emulate in some way when we would find ourselves in their place.  Almost scary to think that we're not far away from that.

It's uncanny.  To find not only another student teacher there during my stage, but another former student, and someone I knew back then.  We've decided to be each others' emotional wingmen for the next few months.

I keep getting Twin Peaks vibes off this gig.  An old colleague in the same position as I am, while I'm here?  I told her about that student's project built out of the wood my friends and I carved our names into twelve years ago.

My head spins at the thought of it.  How much time I've wasted since then; how little I've accomplished.  Some certificate, a worthless degree, and in the same (literal) place I was thirteen years ago.

Finished my first week as a TA at my old high school.  Had some good chats with influential teachers who taught me as a kid and are still there.  If what they tell me is true, that one-year program out of province sounds much more worth it than sticking around here.  Of course, there's no guarantee I'll end up teaching there, if I go through with this at all.

Here's some Poets for you.  Guess there might be something thematically related if you read into the lyrics, maybe.  I don't know.

I'm still here, I'm okay, I'm just--  I'll try to be more alive; how about that?

B.A. in English acquired; largely useless.  Last two jobs weren't careers but meaningless factory-worker working stiff gigs I'd rather not talk about.  Considered getting a B.Ed. and putting English degree to use by becoming a teacher, something I adamantly told people I didn't want to do whenever they asked if I wanted to be a teacher when I told them I was studying English.

Doing an internship at my former high school.  My mind's a little scrambled and I feel like I'm in some kind of temporal anomaly, a bit of relic in an era where I don't belong.  Can't shake feeling like King in World's End, and not in the good way.  Not sure if I'm here for the right reasons.  The marks my friends I left are still here, literally.  In chalkboards, on desks, on wooden surfaces, but they don't mean anything.  They're just names, lost to time.  We aren't kings any more.

All right, enough of that.  I'm currently coming up with lesson plans while listening to '90s music on Youtube.  Guess nostalgia's the theme of the evening.

I'll do what I can to actually post crap again.  I know: I drop off the face of the earth for months at a time. I don't want to leave you guys hanging and I'd like to apologize to those of you when feel like I've just written you off for no reason.

I'll work on my attendance.