Thursday, September 29, 2005

doubts galorious

gahhhh i know it's been FOR-EH-VER and i apologize profusely. and, truthfully, i'd much prefer to be spending my time writing and brainstorming and creating. but instead i'm student teaching and my bubble has been officially popped. i haven't really said this to anyone yet, but i'm definitely having doubts. do i really want to be a teacher? and an english teacher, at that? i feel like i'm sucking incredibly hard. and last night was the first time i started to feel better about it. we had a guest speaker at our seminar and, after seeing tapes from his first year of teaching, he wrote in his journal, "I should not be teaching." i guess the first year or two is just supposed to be survival, keeping your head above water. but i feel so dull and ill-prepared and all sorts of things. i want to run to my bed and hide under my covers and ignore it all. i want to throw myself into just becoming a writer or an entrepreneur... or something, anything but a teacher.

....


but somewhere in there i know that's not really what i want. i mean, i know i will always be working with kids and teenagers and people in some capacity. it's just that right now i need to learn how to do that effectively as an english teacher. sigh. i just don't know if i can.


....



on another, unrelated note, NEXT WEEKEND IS GOING TO ROCK THE HOUSE. after a week which includes my first observation and parent's night, i'm going to need some moral support and distraction. and you three are just the remedy.

LOVES.

(oh, and as for my show... i don't have too much to report, except that i am running a bi-monthly choreography workshop with a few of my girls from the studio. and i'm definitely going to double dip and make that a workshop for show ideas as well.)

(oh and E... mike walsh might be a possible drummer. do you know/remember him? and what do you think about that?)
her voice dripped with condescension
and in that moment
any lingering respect and admiration
plummeted from the sky
and stabbed chicken little in the back

i now wear my disenchantment
on a too small sleeve
torn to shreds
freed from adolescent delusion
what started as a scribble
grows and trickles
tickles and flows

a lightning storm
it pulses
thought electrified

a controlled chaos
it bulges
synapses tangled
together
into intrigue

into a design
that once was disaster
i want you
to
trickle into
my
consciousness