Wednesday, May 17
I've tied down a long-term gig at a middle school teaching algebra. Teaching middle school algebra is about as fun as it sounds. No, scratch that, it's about as fun as having your balls eaten by fireants sounds.
The problem with being a long-term sub is kinda like the problem of being a large Mario, but not a fire-throwing Mario, in the underwater levels of Super Mario Bros. Large Mario finds his powered-up size works against him in the narrow confines of the water stages. So what if I'm bigger, older, and stand in front of the classroom? All these signs of power egg the kids on. If only I was fully powered up in the eyes of my students, if only I could find that elusive fire-flower, which effectively nullifies Mario's size disadvantages with the ability to hurl flames.
Eh, then again that doesn't make a whole lot of sense.
- Discovered a note informing me that I "suck monkey balls." "A Student that doesn't like you" addressed it to me "hate." At least that's not as bad as having a student that hates you addressing a note "don't like." I think.
- A plot to put itching powder on the sub failed when I refused to shake the suspicious outstretched hand of this one knucklehead. That's right, his idea was to first spread the itching powder on his hand and then shake mine. Honors students they ain't.
- Going back to "knucklehead." Just about every teacher's lounge I've been to throws this phrase around for the school's utmost punks. It's kind of a catchall that fills in for "jackass," "dumbshit," "douche bag," and anything else you shouldn't call a 13 year old.