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7 may 2002
| no, and no Note to you international Denizens: In the States, we don't generally call sweaters "jumpers". Here, a jumper is a casual, loose-fitting, sleeveless dress, under which many women wear a t-shirt or tank top. Necessary info for today's entry.
No matter how new and naive you might be at something, I think it's human nature to make snap judgements about how you will conduct yourself. Parenting comes to mind. Lots of non-parents love to make if-it-were-me proclamations. If it were me, there'd be no screaming for snacks in the grocery store. If it were me, my child would be lovely, clean, obedient and physically fit. Upon having your own children, of course, you soon realize that you're doing well to keep banana stains off your collar before 9:00 a.m. I'm being careful not to make a bunch of unrealistic assumptions about who I will be as a teacher. At best, I think that I will be competent, even energetic in my first couple of years. Already, though, I'm realizing that this is an endeavor that you must take day-by-day. The success of tomorrow lies in my utter failures, minor missteps, and tentative victories today. This is not to say that I don't have very concrete goals for my students, but that's for another day. Lemme tell you what just AIN'T going to happen. My friends have been put on alert. They have been instructed to place me in their protective custody immediately, should I commit either of these personal infractions. They will then take me home, smack me good, and conduct some sort of to-be-determined intervention thingy. No Jumpers. Alright, now God bless anyone who can pull off wearing one of these things. They're comfy, they're low-maintenance, there's room for about four extra legs in there. I used to look good in jumpers--when I was seven. Jumpers look good on children, and somewhat...er...voluptuous women. Yeah, them. If you're like me, and don't have some major goods to fill out that fitted top part, then the floofy bottom part ends up looking like a pitched apple-printed tent. I'm a walking, talking yurt. With pockets. Now, I have nothing against jumpers on other people. They look cute, even fashionable, on the right women. Me...ugh. I do a lot of looks, but sadly, I don't pull off "cute" too well. Me in a jumper sends one message: I've given up. When zipping up a pair of pants becomes too much trouble, just get over here and dispense with some fashion police mojo. Please. -
No wearing keys around my neck. The wrist comes in a close second. I have never seen so many people wearing so many keys around so many necks in my life. Jingling and jangling their way down the corridors, I first want to know where everyone got the W.W.J.D. neck keyring. What would Jesus do? He would put his keys in his pocket, that's what. I really, really don't understand this one. I don't quite "get" what is so dang handy about bending over--with keyring still securely around neck--and unlocking the door. It looks painful, always yanking your head to and fro and key-turning and keys banging against your sternum, and...gaaah. This very well may be just a personal problem with me. I'm not one to wear grabbable, catchable-onable things. My necklaces are mostly short choker-type things. My earrings don't dangle. I don't do fringe. I think I worry that some wacko will grab me by the keys and rip my head off. Or I might do some cervical neck damage, or the key might get stuck in the lock with me bent over to open the cursed thing. Or maybe I just don't want anyone to hear me coming. From what I can tell, that's the best part of a teacher's day.
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