A funny thing happened on the way to the high school

Two things happened last week:

1. I got mistaken for a German tourist.
2. A student asked me out--DURING CLASS.

First the First: So I leave the library one day, hungry as usual, and discover a little sammy place where I stop in to try a hot panini. I'm the only customer, so of course the sammy-man wants to have a little chat. As is wont to happen when I open my mouth to speak French with a solid foreign-type accent, he's all, "So where in Germany are you from?" Keep in mind the French words for German and American are sort of similar, or, well, ok not really, but at least they both start with "A": Allemagne and Amérique. So I had opened my mouth to say New York but then realized he was saying Allemagne and quite embarrassingly choked on my own breath as I tried to take back my answer and blurt out a "QUOI? COMMENT?" instead.

But woohoo! for me speaking and looking German-y, haha!

Second the Second: Later that same week I'm in class, trying to have and getting nowhere with yet another discussion about immigration. So I decide it's a good idea if I do the goofy dance and play a game of hangman with the students instead. Then, a few minutes before the bell rings I politely ask if anyone has any questions for me, because, duh, I'm here to teach them good things about our fabulous English language and life in America. The class clown pipes up and is all, "I would like to know if you will go to a movie with me!" The other boys in the class, who until this point had been slouching and acting a bit bored, sat up like a fire had been lit under their desks and started laughing and staring at me to see how harsh the rejection would be. But ooooh they don't know Americans very well, now, do they! They got another good laugh when I said, "Well, I only like science fiction, can you keep up with that?" And the poor boy just giggled and didn't have any good comebacks to that one.

And then, in the very next class that exact same day, in response to my "Do you have any questions for me?" the students asked if I had a boyfriend. Sheesh. When I answered in the negative, the students were quite excited to tell me about one of their teachers, whose qualifications were the following: aged about 50, divorced with one kid, but he looks like George Clooney and is "a hot rabbit."

QUOI-COMMENT? What the hell is a hot rabbit in ANY LANGUAGE.

Whatevs, the most important thing about the week was that we decided to have a Fiesta night, with tortillas and tequila! Woohoo!

PTPO, Fiesta Queen

We again mélange-ed some international partyers (partiers? damn, I know both are correct but NEITHER of them look like real words. And NO I'm not drunk! Yet.) with a dinner table full of Americans, Frenchies, a Brit, and even a "Greek that looks like a Mexican" (lol! Saint Denis your English is coming along nicely heh heh).

How do you finish up a week like that? Perhaps a trip to Aix-en-Provence, you say?
To be continued...

kK

Whodunnit, or My South Park Reality Part Deux

Who doesn't love a good murder mystery!

Today I played the Murder Mystery Game with my class of Horrid Boys Thursday Group. HILARIOUS.

Each student got a character card. I gave them some background info: Ms McGowan, an grumpy old English teacher (got a few laughs on that one) was killed during a school reunion. I gave Horrid Boy No. 1 the role of the murderer; I figured he'd be pleased. He was.

And I myself was pleased with everyone's involvement! They really got into playing their roles, spinning off the cues on their character cards and making up funny details on their given alibis. The Murderer claimed he was in his office at the time of the crime, but when another suspect refuted that by testifying that there was no answer in The Murderer's office upon knocking, The Murderer cleverly put forth that he had his headphones on and was listening to loud music while engrossed in updating his status on Facebook.

But you know what's not pleasing is a lack of creativity. Dude, for several other classes I tried to follow a really good exercise that my mom uses with art to keep her students actively participating by asking questions about a painting. I chose Guernica because these French students have to practice speaking about controversial subjects in order to prepare for their big graduation exam. And hey, I thought a big disjointed painting depicting the destruction and lifelessness of war might do the trick. I wrote up some discussion questions, like "Who is the artist?" "What title would you give this painting?" "What is the message?" "Why is this painting in black and white, not color?" "Are there any works of art that depict war as glorious and good?" "Would you buy this, why or why not?" "In which room would you hang this painting?" etc. etc. etc.

Every student knows it's Picasso, but they don't know the title or background information of the painting, which is cool because I get to waste time giving a little history lesson. The titles they make up are so boring, like "War" or "Room with Fighting Animals" or whatever. And they always say they wouldn't buy the painting because it is too ugly. However, points to the student who said he'd hang it in his "toilettes" because "it's too ugly to look at very often."

Anyway, whatevs, to offset these annoying classes Pull The Prick Out provided an outlet in which to treat ourselves to decent pizza, a bottle of wine and...

What's that you say? Oh, it's blurry? Well maybe it's because I'm a BAD ASS and TOO ROCK STAR to photograph in ACTION.

But I will take pity on you plebes and do some slow-mo for ya:

That's right, thus beginneth the tale of My South Park Reality Part Deux as I succumb to the siren chords of Guitar Hero. 

PTPO had such a difficult time keeping up with me as I dealt a death blow to her Difficult Willie Nelson with my Easy Peasy "Walking in a Spiderweb." Whatever, she might be able to out-strum and out-shoot-flying-devil-bunnies me, but I WHOOPED her ass in hoolahoops, don't ever let her forget it! 

Shut up shut up shut UP you know you love it too! If someone handed you a magic guitar you'd be so glazed-over focused on the video screen you couldn't pry your eyes off with a superglued crowbar. 

GAAAAAH! I rejected all attempts at this plastic, mind-numbing crack for YEARS and made so much fun of people who play video games! But I mean, really, it was only the one time, and I didn't even inhale. (Yo, PTPO, call me. I'm supposed to save the world tomorrow and watch Lost with The Sultan, but I can probably rearrange if that's the only day you're free to have me over this week.)

kK 

What's better than sliced bread?

Sporks and good dive bars, but that's beside the point.

(Is it "besides" the point, or "beside?" Grammatically speaking "beside" is probably the correctest, but I like adding that s when I say it out loud. Gives it some ooomph. I know it's definitely "you've got another THINK comin'" not "thing," and "for god's SAKE" not "sakes"--does god have more than one sake? Well, maybe, but no, NO, it's singular. SINGULAR SAKE. Which makes me think of sake, like, the rice wine goodness that goes so well with beer and never ever gives me a hangover. YUM.)

The point, actually, is that last week I went to the theater with a bunch of 17-year-old French high school students. For some reason, I didn't really expect the ENTIRE AUDIENCE to be made up of 8,004 teenagers and, like, 6 harassed-looking French English teachers, but there you have it, life is just full of surprises.

One of the teachers I work with decided to organize a field trip (OMG field trip! I haven't been on one of those since my own high school daze aaaaaahhhhhh!) to the theatre anglais to see a very heavily adapted Picture of Dorian Gray. Since I got to go for free, I was all, hells yeah I'll go. And so yar, I went. It was mostly horrible, as most of my theater-going experiences usually are (there is just SOMETHING about stage acting that seems so over-done and makes me oddly uncomfortable and embarrassed) but at the same time IT WAS AWESOME. I couldn't figure out why all the actors were speaking in what seemed like slow motion, but then it dawned on me they were enunciating so much, not only because they were British, but because they were trying to make it easier for the students to understand. That was really cool! And it seemed to work, too: our group of little shi--I mean, very intelligent and mature étudiants managed to laugh at even some of the more obscure humor, and I was duly impressed, if not slightly jealous of their level of bilingual-ity.

**kK Tanget 05**
That reminds me, I REALLY need to go visit Père Lachaise! Gah! What is wrong with me...it's like 2 metro stops away! I could WALK there on a nice day! Or even a not-nice day! Oooh, that would be good...go in the rain...maybe there would be fewer people crowding the tombstones.
**possible end to kK Tangent 05**

The teacher that organized the trip was really glad I came, and sent me a text saying that she "appreciates" me, as do the students. Even though I doubt the students actually said anything like that, it still made me feel nice. And then on my walk home and happily stumbled upon a surprise co-op where I greedily snapped up some ingredients for my Green Power Juice, along with some RAW MILK--that's right, straight from the udder, baby!--that I promptly put on the stove for some good-ass chocolat chaud. (Or good ass-chocolat chaud, depending on whether or not you like putting the wrong emPHAsis on the wrong syllABle, "wrong," in this instance, being neither right nor wrong, really, just personal preference and a penchant for reading really nerdy webcomics.)

And on another happy note, Squash and I found a dive café! That's right, just like a dive bar but IN FRENCH. It's all dark and kinda seedy but in a welcoming way; the drinks are cheap, the customers regulars, and there's even a cat that sleeps on a couch in the back. (The bartender thinks I'm from California, which is so funny I won't bother to correct him.) I raised a tumbler of Jameson to the 86-year-old-man club, tossed back the rest of the drunkard Squash's half-full wine glass and then ran across the street for the best pizza in Paris. No seriously, apparently chivalry ISN'T dead. Or did I mean miracles DO occur. Or will wonders never cease. Whatever. It was Good. Ass-Pizza.

I can't decide which is more exciting, good pizza or a DIVE BAR IN PARIS. woohoo!

kK

Ginger, le Frenchy Spice

My schedule has changed a bit and I now have a group of secondes, which are basically the equivalent of American sophomores. I was dreading this class because, aside from the fact that it's at 8:00 IN THE MORNING ON A FRIDAY, considering how awful a lot of the older students are, I was pretty sure these younguns would be worse.

Boy was I wrong.

These kids were HILARIOUS. They spoke way better English than over half of my older classes, and they had a real sense of humor to boot. I think they were a bit nervous to start out with--there was lots of giggling and furtive look-at-the-teacher-look-quickly-away-omg-is-she-going-to-like-us??? action for the first few minutes until I started off by introducing myself. Then the one boy in the class does another little giggle and says "Oh, we begin with introductions now please?" And I'm all, "Sure, you start."

"HelloIamGingerandIhave15yearsandthatisallhehehehehehe!"

I tried, I really did try.

But after taking one look at his flaming orange fro and white freckly skin, I lost it. I laughed so hard I had to put my head down on my arm to try to hide the tears. Everyone was laughing at this point, but mostly at me. I LOVE people with a sense of humor, especially concerning themselves, and this kid totes took the cake on that contest. He is definitely the class clown--and he never once revealed his true name (I looked it up later; it's Florient).

For the rest of the hour we had a raucous discussion about books (everyone loves the book Twilight--Ginger pulled it out of his bookbag to show me a real life copy--but not the movie b/c the movie is "hideous, too long and poorly acted"), movies, music and even the longest words in our respective languages.

Yes, that's right, after arguing in pretty impressive English about whether or not Avatar was the greatest movie ever created (it's not; that title goes to Braveheart--in the 'epic' category, anyway, thankyouverymuch), the students ask if I want to know the longest word in French. In between gasps of laughter I manage to squeak out a petit 'oui!' and Ginger jumps up to spell it on the board for me:

anticonstitutionellement

At least, I think that's how you spell it. And in case you're wondering, it means "against the law." LOL!!!

Luckily, my life-long nerdism paid off--I have a very clear memory of when I was in middle school and I was reading a book that talked about the longest word in the English language (of course for the life of me I can't remember what exactly it was that I was reading...some memory, eh!), and so I was able to trump their wimpy anticonstitutionellement with a whopping:

antidisestablishmentarianism

BOOYA!

And then I panicked, because I had forgotten what it actually meant! And just as I was about to pray that they didn't ask me or wouldn't notice I was moving too quickly to the next subject or something, I hear a chorus of "WHAT DOES IT MEAN MADAME!" Fuuuuuuuuck.

"Well, kids, you see this word here, 'establishment'? Yeah, that's like, you know, the typical, normal way of doing things in society. And if you're 'anti' the 'establishment,' that means you like to go your own way and be your own person! REBEL! It's good for your heart! But drugsarebadstayinschoolmmmkay."

So now I have a bunch of French 15 year olds convinced that the longest word in the English language is about being true to yourself and rebelling against society. Honestly, I like my definition better than the real one, which I raced home after class to look up b/c I AM A MORON:

"The opposition to the withdrawal of state support or recognition from an established church, esp. the Anglican Church in 19th century England."

Whatever, at least I didn't try to convince them that German is a Romance language.

kK

Did you know...

...that I've just eaten 4 sugar cubes? OK, well it was really 6, but that's just crazy, who eats 6 sugar cubes and actually admits it. But there you have it, I just ate 6 delicious, brown chunky sugar cubes. So there.

So it was the first day back at school today...always a fun day, especially for teachers I'm finding. My first class was actually not so bad: There were 8 of them and they were pretty well-behaved. Maybe it's because it was 8 am and they weren't awake enough to be disruptive. But the teacher wanted me to have them talk about their anti-smoking ads they'd started in on before break, so we talked about them for a while, and when I found out that all of the students smoked I was like, "do do these ads make you want to quit smoking?" and of course everyone was like, 'duh, no,' so my brilliant, properly-caffeinated brain pulled out a lesson plan from my magic wooly winter beanie cap and blurted out, "OK, make your own anti-smoking ads!" I think I might have had a vague hope that they'd come up w/ something personal and less roll-your-eyes-ok-we-know-cigarettes-are-bad banners, but let's face it, I was mostly excited that I didn't have to put forth any of my own effort for the next 30 minutes.

So OK, the ads weren't that spectacular, in fact I'd say they were pretty much pure shit, but the students cracked me up anyway when they got up to present what they'd drawn. One group of girls had two different men separated by a line down the middle of their paper. On one side the sun was shining, the man was smiling and carried a bulging briefcase. On the other side it was raining, the man was hunched over grumpily clenching a burning cigarette (how it remained lit in the rain is still a mystery to me, but hey, like I said, it was 8 am on Monday morning after a 3 week vacation) and he had no briefcase. The slogan was "Don't Smok, It's for your Futur", and the lesson was that you will be unemployed if you keep smoking cigarettes.

What. ... ?

It was after the first group turned their paper into me that the group of boys in the back realized they actually had to give me a finished product, so they scrambled and gave me a drawing with a man's head (smoking a cigarette, of course) sticking out of a freshly dug grave. Their slogan was "Smoking Kill Your Life." Go figure.

The next class I couldn't have gotten to be interested in anything, or even properly seated, if I'd taken in a giant chocolate marshmallow attached to a Bag of Fun from Magic Teenagers-Aren't-Full-of-Angst-And-School-Is-Really-Really-Fun-I-Swear Land. And I really just have nothing more to say about that.

Luckily I got to end the day with a class I normally dread. (haha how funny does THAT sound!) However, only 3 boys showed up (the 3 girls were either sick, still on vacay, or didn't want to come b/c they'd be the only girl). The boys are usually the worst behaved and speak the least amount of English, so I was groaning very loudly (inwardly, of course) when they came in and told me why they would be the only ones in the class today.

However, after 5 minutes of outlining a few notes about women's suffrage (what a day to have THAT lesson!) I just sighed and said, "Let's listen to music now, shall we?" So I gave them a choice of about ten different songs and they were excited in that teenage boy way of being excited, which basically means they were no different, except for a slight gleam in their eyes and the amount of time they took to shuffle through the papers and try to decide which song they wanted to start with, and then a rewarding little, "we want song to not know," meaning they were interested enough that they wanted to explore something they weren't already familiar with.

woohoo!

So we started with "Funeral" by Band of Horses--they didn't like the lead singer's voice, which is funny b/c I love that song but I've recently realized that I, too, don't much care for his voice. They also thought the lyrics didn't make sense, which they don't, so we had a little discussion about how lots of times songs have good music but crappy lyrics and why it might be more fun to listen to songs in a foreign language so you don't have to worry about not enjoying the music b/c you can't understand the words anyway. (Well, OK, I did most of the talking but they were able to communicate their agreement and "huh, that's a good point, I feel the same way but never really thought about it like that before." Or maybe I'm reading too much into my own awesomeness, but I swear that's the impression I got from Rowdy No. 1.)

They were able to fill in most of the words I'd blanked out on Spiritualized's "Soul on Fire," then we went popular and headbanged to "American Idiot," and then ended on "California Stars." I love teaching the word "twangy" to these Frenchies...it's such a funny word and they just look at me, like "wtf, mate." But it's so awesome b/c as soon as the guitar solo goes glidey-melty during a pause in the lyrics, I say "Hey, that's twang," and there's this fabulous "Ah HA!" moment, not on everyone's face, but on those whom it does register, it's really pretty cool. This time all 3 of them got it, and the little Arab boy that was acting the least involved in the class (staring off into space, not filling in too many lyrics) piped up to say that was his favorite song and that he really liked it.

woohoo!

Thus endeth Christmas vacay and beginneth the new semester. Le Sigh.

kK

Ain't Nobody That Can Sing Like Me

Ah! All is not lost...I had a lovely day with students on Friday! The music went over much better with those classes. Greenday's "American Idiot" inspired lots of ooh-la-it-is-too-vite! laughter and The Monkees made Believers out of those who thought they couldn't understand American music. I'm pretty sure every boy of every age will always feel a strong connection to Pete Townsend's blue eyes; what IS it about that song that just screams male angst, lol! (Whatever, you know I heart it too!)

I even got to slip in one of my favorites, the "California Stars" collaboration of Wilco and Billy Bragg (hear it here, but for god's sake ignore the 'space theme'...this was the best sound quality I could find on youtube, so just hide the screen and listen to the music instead of watching those completely incongruous images of outerspace!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u8bQX2lg70Y). I was afraid the students would make fun of the slight twang--I mean, wtf kind of music IS that, anyway, right!--but I caught several of the boys tapping their feet in time to the beat, and I was like YESSSSS I gotcha!

Seriously, no matter what kind of day I'm having, shitty, awesome or somewhere in between, that song makes me feel right again. If I was on a desert island I'd pick that song to play on repeat, along with Buffett's Tin Cup Chalice and Bob Seger singing Little Drummer Boy. And then, of course, if I feel like dancing on said desert island, I might have to bring along some ABBA and Beyonce. OK, and maybe some Bare Naked Ladies, b/c they're da shit. And Allison Kraus, but only singing happy songs. Oh wait, and I'll need my favorite band of all time, Devotchka. And I mean just that: I'm bringing Devotchka the musicians with me to the island. And not for cannabalistic purposes, we all have plenty to eat and drink and read and there's even a place to check your email just in case we feel like be social. Just sayin'.

kK

The 86 year-old-man club

Gah, teaching is crazy. Seriously, I have no idea how anyone does it, ever. EVER. I have a class on Thursdays that makes me want to do terrible things, to them and to myself. I was "this" close to calling in 'sick' this afternoon, but no, I had planned what I thought was a fun lesson around some American songs--fill in the lyrics, listen to music, have a good time. Is that what happened? Well, all but the 'have a good time' part.

There are four students in particular in this class that just make my life miserable...two boys and two girls, but I get the worst crap from the two boys. They dress like uber-riche hipsters, and are just simply and quite literally too cool for school. The ennui in their auras stands out so palpably I practically choke on it. I have the disturbing impression that they would commit murder, just to see if it was amusing, secure in the belief that they are invincible and could never be convicted. (The Law & Order episode has already played out in my head, casting and all. They play themselves, b/c L&O has become a reality show by this time in the future.) They make me want to make them cry. Like big, fat tears with real trauma that shakes them out of their hidey hole of determined un-impressioned-ness. I swear, if I was like that as a youngster (and I'm pretty sure I was, but without the murder part), I don't know how I wasn't sent off to get lost in Tibet.

Anyway, it started with me texting the teacher to tell her I had to switch classrooms so she would know where to send her students to meet me. She texts back that she's not even going to be there today (oh, thanks for telling me in advance) b/c she's getting her 18 month old daughter vaccinated for the swine flu. (eh?) Then she asks if she thinks I can handle the entire class, not just half of them like I normally do. I'm like, wha...? First of all, why are you not just canceling class altogether?? And secondly, HELL NO I won't take on 38 students all at once, I have enough trouble with half of them as it is! So she's like, cool, I'll send you some documents over email I want you to go over with them, and then you'll just teach one group of them like always. OK.

Needless to say, when I get to my new classroom, no one else is there b/c they're all at the old room. le. sigh. And then I discover that ALL OF THEM HAVE SHOWN UP. I'm like, um, dudes, I need Group 1 to stay and Group 2 to get perdus! Then they have an argument about which group is supposed to be there, blah blah. Anyway, I have no idea who actually stays and goes, but somehow we manage to settle down and start discussing documents about the goodness of being yourself and not conforming to what your friends think you should be. Whatevs. Drugs r bad, stay in school. Mmmmkay.

Maybe--yar, probably...I'm cool but I'm not THAT cool--these kids are so anxious to be with me b/c it's a break from the drudgery of their real classwork and the teacher that actually makes them drag out the discussion of two images for an entire hour. I simply can. not. DO that! You ID the doc, tell me what the message is, give me your opinion, and VOILA, case closed. It takes like 15 (maybe) minutes!! So I bust out the lyrics worksheet I'd typed up last night and started playing what I thought they would really like, a couple of non-typical American songs you'd hear at ACL and not on pop radio. We never even listened to one song twice...whenever I asked if they liked a song, those two friggin boys were like, "non, it's not good" or "non, I don't like the '80's," or whatever. (Yes, I played "Don't Stop Believin'"...I friggin LOVE that song and so does anyone with a sense of teh awezome!) Horrid Boy 1 did start singing along with "Behind Blue Eyes"...but even The Who couldn't rattle this boy into filling in lyrics or otherwise pretending to give a shit about anything but his own affectation of smugness.

So finally I give up...there's 15 minutes of class left and I'm like, OK guys, so what is it that you want to do next time? I always ask them this, and I always bring in a game or music or whatever it is they've decided on, and still it continues to suck. They batter around a couple of ideas about films, not even bothering to try very hard to speak in English...they think I can't understand them but oooh are they wrong and it's funny to jump in the middle of their conversations in answer to a question they are asking each other assuming I have no idea what they're saying.

Then Horrid Boy 1 tries asking about my favorite movies, and then books...we almost had a connection on Charlie Brown (I was discussing Christmas movies) but unfortunately he actually thought I'd said JACKIE Brown. (I got really confused when he got all excited and was like "Quentin Tarantino??") We even discovered that we both liked sci-fi (which I totally can't see in him, but whatever). Finally, thank the GODS, the bell rings and they all start packing up to leave. But lots of them take their time, including these Horrid Boys, and they linger and try to talk a bit like they don't really want to leave, and I'm like, WTF what is wrong with you, you HATE me, right! But then Horrid Boy 1 is like, "We must be bored for you, yes?" And I'm like, "Yar, you seem to be really bored," and his friend, Horrid Boy 2, corrects him, "you mean 'boring'", and Horrid Boy 1 looks up at me again and repeats it, like he cares what I think of them: "We must be boring for you." I'm like, "What?? NO you're not boring! [and they're really not...we should be having so much fun together...!] I'm the one who feels awful when I look out at you and see your faces" (and here I make a face that no one can mistake for anything but the worst case of ennui), and one of the other lingering students is like "It's b/c we're French!" To which I burst out laughing, but Horrid Boy 1 shrugs in his "that's not the real reason" and "nothing's good enough to bother me" way, says goodbye and finally leaves.

God. I came straight home and poured myself a generous splash of delicious cognac. Yes, I am Co-President, with Ageless, of the 86-Year-Old-Man club, in which we filles drink whiskey, bourbon and cognac like we're 86 year-old men.

It's a weird situation to be in: I'm not the real teacher, but I'm not one of "them;" I'm the exotic (haha) strange American who can speak better than their English teachers (show some RISPEK'), and there's no incentive but their own inner desire to do well and to learn. I'm doing the best I can and it really works well with lots of them, but the times when it falls so flat...gah, so discouraging. Do the Horrid Twins really care about what I think of them? Then why not try to at least pretend to have some fun, or at least try a dialogue of some sort, even if all they have to say is negative...I guess they can't look too nerdy in front of their friends in the class...maybe they went home and bought the songs on iTunes and listened by themselves over and over again until they filled in all the words on the pages...

I don't really care as much as it probably sounds like I do...I just needed to vent about today as I enjoy another teensy splash of fermented apples. At the end of the day they're just such younguns, and I'm an old, nearly-wise woman who has already realized there is more to life than the dramas of high school.

Plus, you know what...they would TOTES get beat up if they came to America looking like that...I'd like to see them get up in front of an American high school class and try to keep order! Karma's a bitch...oh gawd, what does that say about ME back in the day!!

kK

Robin Williams would be proud...?

So, teaching. heh heh.

No seriously, that's all I have to say, heh heh. I don't even know if that's a funny 'heh heh' or what, but it's the only way to describe how I feel when I'm all alone, up in front of the class behind my little teacher desk, sometimes turning to WRITE THINGS ON THE BOARD...God, I have no idea how I ended up here! This was definitely never in my 'possibilities' list. A teacher? Granted, just the "assistant," etc., but it feels so real...I have my own classroom, the students come down to see me and sit in little rows at their desks, and my little chair and desk is all slightly elevated in the front of the room...and I WRITE THINGS ON THE BOARD. Have I mentioned I write things on the board? Most of them don't give a shit and don't actually copy anything down, but I do it anyway b/c it helps clarify what the hell I'm saying--pronouncing something and seeing it written are two very different things...I say a phrase, they stare blankly, I make fun of them, then I write it on the board and they're like 'OOOOHH oui oui'...and then they translate it into french for their fellow students who still don't get it.

Most of the kids are pretty cool...they're just totally bored with school and don't want to be there in the first place. They asked me how I felt about high school and I said I was miserable. They asked me why and I said "just because...it's how you're SUPPOSED to be as a teenager!" And then they say, "so it's not like High School Musical?" and I groan and make extremely exaggerated motions of vomiting and say 'NON! Only losers like high school! Whatchoo tryin' to say, you like singing and dancing in class? You wanna sing a song for me right now? That's right, get up and sing me a song! American Music Only, capiche?! You back there staring off into space...that's right, YOU. You bored? In MY CLASS?! Maybe you like to do a little dance, eh? Well then get your butt outta that seat and let the class see what ya got!' Which they don't really understand but they laugh their little French laughs at the theatrics behind the message.

Yes, I'm desperate...I don't want them to hate English classes and b/c I'm so unprepared for teaching I just make loud noises and hope they don't notice I'm not actually saying anything important.

These first few weeks I'm mostly introducing myself, teaching a specific lesson here and there, yada yada yada. Sometimes I get caught off guard with how good (or how awful) the students' english is, and if I just simply can't squeeze any more discussion out of a single cartoon image or text paragraph, I'll just throw down the paper, say "enough of this crap! What are you doing for vacation? Wanna see some pictures of me drinking?" Then I do my goofy dance and make weird noises, and call out the two boys chatting in French to each other and completely ignoring what's going on in the lesson and totally make fun of them in front of everyone...The kids laugh a bit, then start laughing harder, like they didn't expect anything to be funny about English, and what the hell is this crazy American doing up there anyway.

I was meeting one of my classes for the first time the other day...the teacher was still in the room and made them ask me pre-prepared questions so she could take notes on what I said and make an English lesson out of it. One of the students raises his smarmy little hand and goes, "My frien' say you like to drink beaucoup," and after furtively glancing at the remarkably reserved and uptight teacher scribbling notes on the board I realized, HELLO I'M IN FRANCE nobody cares if you drink, and so I doubled over laughing, which made everyone else laugh b/c seriously, who laughs that hard in France, and was like, 'yar, you guys make pretty good wine over here.' And then I laughed really hard at my own sarcasm, b/c I thought it was effing hysterical, and the students kept giggling and looking over at each other trying to figure out if anyone had figured me out, which of course, no one has and no one ever will, but still, it's funny to watch them try.

Now it's obviously not all fun and games...I've had a fairly relaxed, surfer-dude-attitude first month, but from now on I can't fly so much by the seat of my pants, I actually have to engage them with activities instead of flailing in the waters of my inexperience and randomly pulling out pictures of my Parisian New Year's with Ageless or my ACL purple margaritas with Hoonie and Simms. They've all now heard the funny stories of me being a jackass, and now I need to figure out how to have some fun but still teach them something useful. My brain is having a hard time engaging, though...when I think about trying to organize a potential lesson I get all foggy and vaguely wave my mental hand in the air as if to say, 'tomorrow is another day, I'll figure out something later.' It is apparent that I must take early retirement. Like next year.

kK