one of the pictures was from the bullfights, the other was from the roof of my house when we grilled a few weeks ago. i won´t tell you which is which in the hopes that you mistake my roof top to look like the inside of a colliseum and the inside of the plaza del méxico to look like, well, a ratty rooftop.
i am giving a toefl exam this morning to 75 kids who want to go to the school where i teach. they are all eager, snooty, better dressed than me (this takes very little effort actually consdering my rotation of shirts that i wear to work is an astounding 7. i know. i took mcmahon´s advice and decided to really reach for the stars).
27 January 2007
24 January 2007
23 January 2007
i guess it has been a spell since i wrote. lots going on here, but mainly work. a 5am wake-up call, daily, has been strange but i am adjusting. there are definitely some positives to it, but of course it is not the easiest. especially considering i used to work at 130pm when i lived in san fran. but that was years ago.
five weeks in and the beard is rockin. the cool weather, no longer cold really, makes it nice at night, but the warm sunny days make me want to shave. i will try to post a pic at some point. i think this is the sixth winter in a row that i have grown a beard. not shaving is absolute heaven. i recommend all the boys try it at least once.
classes are great. i teach part of a lit. class at the university here, and although it started out strange, it has become better the last few weeks. the schedule itself is ruthless on mondays, i teach 7 classes, and wednesday and friday (i teach 6), but tues thurs is not too bad. good kids mostly. i cannot complain.
hope you are all well up there. know that i am well, albeit a little tired some days, and enjoying myself. my buddy watt wanapha came down to visit the other weekend and we had a grand time. two visitors in one month after a year hiatus. damn. either way, it was good to see him (we went to tech together and both studied philosophy)after a five year break and to talk with him. he is a great kid and kicking ass in ny as an attorney.
hasta luego cuates
five weeks in and the beard is rockin. the cool weather, no longer cold really, makes it nice at night, but the warm sunny days make me want to shave. i will try to post a pic at some point. i think this is the sixth winter in a row that i have grown a beard. not shaving is absolute heaven. i recommend all the boys try it at least once.
classes are great. i teach part of a lit. class at the university here, and although it started out strange, it has become better the last few weeks. the schedule itself is ruthless on mondays, i teach 7 classes, and wednesday and friday (i teach 6), but tues thurs is not too bad. good kids mostly. i cannot complain.
hope you are all well up there. know that i am well, albeit a little tired some days, and enjoying myself. my buddy watt wanapha came down to visit the other weekend and we had a grand time. two visitors in one month after a year hiatus. damn. either way, it was good to see him (we went to tech together and both studied philosophy)after a five year break and to talk with him. he is a great kid and kicking ass in ny as an attorney.
hasta luego cuates
08 January 2007
so. very. tired.
i arrived this morning around 630ish, meaning i woke up before 6am and arrived when it was still quite dark. so ya, i did take the extra classes. i now teach 7 classes. 5 hours in a row, from 730am to 1230pm. then i get one hour off and go back and teach again from 1330 to 1430. then two hours off and another 40 minutes teaching a university class for my friend. wow. i am worn out. i will definitely make more money this semester, but damn, i am going to work my butt off. oh well, tuesday is a lot better.
i arrived this morning around 630ish, meaning i woke up before 6am and arrived when it was still quite dark. so ya, i did take the extra classes. i now teach 7 classes. 5 hours in a row, from 730am to 1230pm. then i get one hour off and go back and teach again from 1330 to 1430. then two hours off and another 40 minutes teaching a university class for my friend. wow. i am worn out. i will definitely make more money this semester, but damn, i am going to work my butt off. oh well, tuesday is a lot better.
Isn’t it ridiculous that I make decisions based on monetary considerations? If I choose the logic that says take the highest offer, work for more, refuse a piddling amount, why I am here? See you in Saudi Arabia.
What does it mean when I, others, say that I, we, no longer speak the same language? A paradigm shift is a bullshit, 21st century phrase that only signifies if you understand your present paradigm. If not, wander along and leave the thinking to the media which tells you what to eat, wear, say, watch, read, study, love, hate, forget. Remember.
Can you really change in 18 months? What is it that you changed? Did you change it, or did it change you? What does ¨it¨ mean? These are the ramblings of one looking for an answer using a system of signs that, although they permit, do not promote, introspection.
There is a story that Socrates (or Plato, depending on whether or not you even believe Socrates existed) related in one of his early teachings. When writing was first created, the god who created it took the idea to the wisest person he knew. This person, a king, offered numerous objections, rather criticisms. He said that writing would make people forget. If you don’t have to memorize anything, i.e. you can write it down, then what will you remember? Also, the king said it would make fools feel they had knowledge. Anyone can go to a teacher and listen, take notes, then repeat the words written on the page. This, in no sense, signifies understanding, knowledge.
As you might imagine, the god was none too pleased with this reply. He had created the first artificial technology, writing, and wanted what any inventor, and god for that matter, does: praise. Not receiving the appreciation he felt he deserved must have been quite a blow. But, he was a god, and in general, life is pretty good for the gods. Eternal life, wild and outrageous powers, good times.
My argument lacks both novelty and entertainment value. Those two definitely work against me as the old and boring are often brushed aside in favor of something shiny, shimmering, still in the plastic. Retire meant community.
Walking around this city you see the influence of us(a). actually, you must work not to see it, and then, really, you are simply lying to yourself. Progress. Such an innocent word on its surface, especially as a verb, yet the problems arise when you make it a noun. As in, ¨gazing out from her 25th floor apartment balcony, the steel, glass and general progress the city had made were blinding.¨ she cannot see anymore. Probably does not want to, truly. Can you explain to someone without vision what a skyscraper looks like? Can you impart the sound of a jackhammer to someone without hearing? These are artificial creations, to be sure, but substituting these for natural examples makes no real difference. Language, then, fails. The break down occurs, and you either move on to something else and forget, or, repeatedly knock your head against a wall. Which is better? The result is roughly the same.
Is progress really a gift? Everything I see here tells me it is. The people are often eager to remind me of wonderful advances the city/country has made in the last 15 years. I am typing on a laptop by the way. My hypocrisy knows no bounds.
So maybe this lack of understanding is simply a feeling. Poets, authors, bryan adams and the bee.gee´s have been trying to educate us on the finer points of feelings for a long time, yet I think we still have not come to understand them very well. If we did, would we still need these people or simple rewind the tape and listen to it again?
Have I explained it? Does it seem like I really even tried?
I must say relationships down here are interesting. Dating, in general, involves something more than what I was used to. Of course, every ex of mine would probably say my main problem was not really trying. Not investing. Sure. I wont disagree simply because I, apparently, could care less. So what is different down here? Knowing that there is difference between us, more than male/female stuff, simple communication becomes rather interesting. When we all speak the same language, we think we understand. When we don’t, we know that we are missing something. But somehow, you cannot really know what that something is. I would argue it was always a lie to assume we understood each other. The same language ensures that the words will be familiar, not that the meaning, intentions, feelings, implied by those words will be comprehended. I have dated girls that speak excellent English and those that speak none. As you might have guessed, the level of English has nothing to do with it. It is the part where you want to understand the other person that makes one viable and the other a flop. So is that so different from any other relationship?
I use the dating metaphor for a reason. At some point or another, everyone reading this has been on a date of some kind, or been in some kind of loving relationship (gender is not important here). I cannot assume any more than that, but I would imagine there has come a time (unless you happily married/became the permanent partner of the first person you ever dated) when you think that you and the other person do not really speak the same language. The words are there, clearly there are some types of feeling (revulsion, hate, indifference, etc.), but the words you both use no longer (if they ever did and you were simply not delusional-in love) signify the same thing. Then, you may make the analogy that one person is speaking a separate idiom (Spanish, Portuguese, Italian) than your own. Try explaining that to someone not involved and you will often receive a look of sympathy, which probably implies that the person either does not really care or thinks you don’t know what you are talking about. Either way, you come off sounding odd.
Hence, me saying that I do not speak the same language as many people in my own country seems either quite strange or stupid. However, that has no bearing on the fact that I feel as I do.
On a side note, I feel like a teenager again. I met this girl about 4 months ago and have had a lot of interaction with her since, but now somehow I feel different toward her. But then you don’t want to make a move and look like an idiot if she does not feel the same way (our relationship is not one of simple friendship, it is a little more complex than that). So what do you do? Well, if you are a coward, like me, you do nothing different. You make an effort to see the person more, but then you wait. Why? Weakness is all I can imagine. Well, that is not true. of course I can rationalize it any number of ways to make myself feel better, but I wont. In the end, I might just simply enjoy feeling strange around this person.
I built a table today. Pretty exciting. Went to the home depot, bought some 1x4´s, ½ inch plywood for the top (I doubled it up). 42 inch square top, 32 inch legs (I am finally putting into practice my dream of making things my size- I have often thought sinks, toilets, counter tops, etc. were made for people not my size). I am making it like a cantina table (which if you have not been to mexico you probably don’t understand). Each leg is two 1x4´s nailed together at a right angle (this make a small pocket in between them) which opens to the outside, and inside this angle I made two shelves, about 20 inches apart, so that you can put a drink, or two, in the leg- this frees up the surface for cards, computer, books, food, whatever. I am going to make a lip around the top edges that will rise about ¼ inch over the top of the surface- this will make a shallow, I don’t know, pool for lack of a better word. The logic behind this is that if my friends and I play cards you can toss a card across the table and it wont fall on the floor. Basically, I have created something that would be excellent for small children and babies- difficult to knock something off the top onto the floor and it keeps liquids away from the action (like a high-chair probably). I did not have a table before, so now I can type at home, do work here more easily, have people over to eat without having them sit on the floor or eat from their lap in a plastic chair. Mighty domestic of me. I also now have a place to put things when I come home from school, etc. otherwise, everything goes on the floor. Not really hygienic I guess. I suppose it is time for me to start getting it together. It also implies a sense of permanence I was never really ready for before. The less you have the easier it is to leave it. That might say more about my personality than I care to admit, but there it is.
I am going to build bookshelves next. My dad and Anthony can be proud that I finally put to use the skills I learned with them. Working with wood is fun. A hammer, nails and tape measure really go a long way. I also have an artist friend who is going to paint the table for me. Not sure about the design just yet, but I will try to take a picture of it at some point to show you. Somewhere in Richmond jimmy d is proud of me. Or paul, z-moves, sinc. I am certainly not on a par with them, but hey, you have to start somewhere.
What does it mean when I, others, say that I, we, no longer speak the same language? A paradigm shift is a bullshit, 21st century phrase that only signifies if you understand your present paradigm. If not, wander along and leave the thinking to the media which tells you what to eat, wear, say, watch, read, study, love, hate, forget. Remember.
Can you really change in 18 months? What is it that you changed? Did you change it, or did it change you? What does ¨it¨ mean? These are the ramblings of one looking for an answer using a system of signs that, although they permit, do not promote, introspection.
There is a story that Socrates (or Plato, depending on whether or not you even believe Socrates existed) related in one of his early teachings. When writing was first created, the god who created it took the idea to the wisest person he knew. This person, a king, offered numerous objections, rather criticisms. He said that writing would make people forget. If you don’t have to memorize anything, i.e. you can write it down, then what will you remember? Also, the king said it would make fools feel they had knowledge. Anyone can go to a teacher and listen, take notes, then repeat the words written on the page. This, in no sense, signifies understanding, knowledge.
As you might imagine, the god was none too pleased with this reply. He had created the first artificial technology, writing, and wanted what any inventor, and god for that matter, does: praise. Not receiving the appreciation he felt he deserved must have been quite a blow. But, he was a god, and in general, life is pretty good for the gods. Eternal life, wild and outrageous powers, good times.
My argument lacks both novelty and entertainment value. Those two definitely work against me as the old and boring are often brushed aside in favor of something shiny, shimmering, still in the plastic. Retire meant community.
Walking around this city you see the influence of us(a). actually, you must work not to see it, and then, really, you are simply lying to yourself. Progress. Such an innocent word on its surface, especially as a verb, yet the problems arise when you make it a noun. As in, ¨gazing out from her 25th floor apartment balcony, the steel, glass and general progress the city had made were blinding.¨ she cannot see anymore. Probably does not want to, truly. Can you explain to someone without vision what a skyscraper looks like? Can you impart the sound of a jackhammer to someone without hearing? These are artificial creations, to be sure, but substituting these for natural examples makes no real difference. Language, then, fails. The break down occurs, and you either move on to something else and forget, or, repeatedly knock your head against a wall. Which is better? The result is roughly the same.
Is progress really a gift? Everything I see here tells me it is. The people are often eager to remind me of wonderful advances the city/country has made in the last 15 years. I am typing on a laptop by the way. My hypocrisy knows no bounds.
So maybe this lack of understanding is simply a feeling. Poets, authors, bryan adams and the bee.gee´s have been trying to educate us on the finer points of feelings for a long time, yet I think we still have not come to understand them very well. If we did, would we still need these people or simple rewind the tape and listen to it again?
Have I explained it? Does it seem like I really even tried?
I must say relationships down here are interesting. Dating, in general, involves something more than what I was used to. Of course, every ex of mine would probably say my main problem was not really trying. Not investing. Sure. I wont disagree simply because I, apparently, could care less. So what is different down here? Knowing that there is difference between us, more than male/female stuff, simple communication becomes rather interesting. When we all speak the same language, we think we understand. When we don’t, we know that we are missing something. But somehow, you cannot really know what that something is. I would argue it was always a lie to assume we understood each other. The same language ensures that the words will be familiar, not that the meaning, intentions, feelings, implied by those words will be comprehended. I have dated girls that speak excellent English and those that speak none. As you might have guessed, the level of English has nothing to do with it. It is the part where you want to understand the other person that makes one viable and the other a flop. So is that so different from any other relationship?
I use the dating metaphor for a reason. At some point or another, everyone reading this has been on a date of some kind, or been in some kind of loving relationship (gender is not important here). I cannot assume any more than that, but I would imagine there has come a time (unless you happily married/became the permanent partner of the first person you ever dated) when you think that you and the other person do not really speak the same language. The words are there, clearly there are some types of feeling (revulsion, hate, indifference, etc.), but the words you both use no longer (if they ever did and you were simply not delusional-in love) signify the same thing. Then, you may make the analogy that one person is speaking a separate idiom (Spanish, Portuguese, Italian) than your own. Try explaining that to someone not involved and you will often receive a look of sympathy, which probably implies that the person either does not really care or thinks you don’t know what you are talking about. Either way, you come off sounding odd.
Hence, me saying that I do not speak the same language as many people in my own country seems either quite strange or stupid. However, that has no bearing on the fact that I feel as I do.
On a side note, I feel like a teenager again. I met this girl about 4 months ago and have had a lot of interaction with her since, but now somehow I feel different toward her. But then you don’t want to make a move and look like an idiot if she does not feel the same way (our relationship is not one of simple friendship, it is a little more complex than that). So what do you do? Well, if you are a coward, like me, you do nothing different. You make an effort to see the person more, but then you wait. Why? Weakness is all I can imagine. Well, that is not true. of course I can rationalize it any number of ways to make myself feel better, but I wont. In the end, I might just simply enjoy feeling strange around this person.
I built a table today. Pretty exciting. Went to the home depot, bought some 1x4´s, ½ inch plywood for the top (I doubled it up). 42 inch square top, 32 inch legs (I am finally putting into practice my dream of making things my size- I have often thought sinks, toilets, counter tops, etc. were made for people not my size). I am making it like a cantina table (which if you have not been to mexico you probably don’t understand). Each leg is two 1x4´s nailed together at a right angle (this make a small pocket in between them) which opens to the outside, and inside this angle I made two shelves, about 20 inches apart, so that you can put a drink, or two, in the leg- this frees up the surface for cards, computer, books, food, whatever. I am going to make a lip around the top edges that will rise about ¼ inch over the top of the surface- this will make a shallow, I don’t know, pool for lack of a better word. The logic behind this is that if my friends and I play cards you can toss a card across the table and it wont fall on the floor. Basically, I have created something that would be excellent for small children and babies- difficult to knock something off the top onto the floor and it keeps liquids away from the action (like a high-chair probably). I did not have a table before, so now I can type at home, do work here more easily, have people over to eat without having them sit on the floor or eat from their lap in a plastic chair. Mighty domestic of me. I also now have a place to put things when I come home from school, etc. otherwise, everything goes on the floor. Not really hygienic I guess. I suppose it is time for me to start getting it together. It also implies a sense of permanence I was never really ready for before. The less you have the easier it is to leave it. That might say more about my personality than I care to admit, but there it is.
I am going to build bookshelves next. My dad and Anthony can be proud that I finally put to use the skills I learned with them. Working with wood is fun. A hammer, nails and tape measure really go a long way. I also have an artist friend who is going to paint the table for me. Not sure about the design just yet, but I will try to take a picture of it at some point to show you. Somewhere in Richmond jimmy d is proud of me. Or paul, z-moves, sinc. I am certainly not on a par with them, but hey, you have to start somewhere.
05 January 2007
in every situation there are always surprises.
first of all, happy holidays to all. i hope the xmas and new year went quite well. feliz año nuevo y espero que todo fuera bien para todos.
i came in a little early today (there are no classes but i thought i would get here around 8 because starting next week i teach every day at 730am) and had an unexpected visitor.
my schedule for next semester was fairly good: mwf- 730-1030 (3 50minute classes), break, 1330-1430. tu/th- 730-830, 9-1030, break, 1330-1430. i was teaching 5 classes for a total of 19 hours a week. last semester i only taught 5 classes, 15hours a week, and was not too stoked about the money i was making (hence the private lessons). last semester i had a lot of free time. what we do with our free time is often unproductive(professionally) and in this city, requires some sort of money. in other words, i was spending almost as much as i was making each month. not good.
thus, a bump of 4 hours would increase my salary a fair amount, and with the other private lessons i was giving, should have given me plenty of work while silently removing some free time. i was pleased for the most part because i would be giving a literature course and a media, culture & criticism course. smooth sailing.
upon my arrival at 8am or so, i walked into my new office (i now am on the opposite corner of the top floor with an office overlooking the green side of campus- two walls are actually floor to ceiling windows and glass; i also only share the office with one other person- my new supervisor j, who is from canada) and sat down to read for 20 minutes or so. ever since moving offices a few days ago, i have felt great because it seemed as if i were starting over again in some senses.
my surprise came around 9am when my buddy c came into the office. he is a coordinator of a class i thought i would be teaching next semester, but at the last minute i was offered something different. he was definitely supposed to be in a meeting (there is a faculty meeting for those full-time staff), so i thought he was playing hooky and wanted to go get a coffee or something.
he first asked my schedule for next semester, though he knew it (he also lives in the apt under me and we hang out fairly often on the weekends and during the week- we also go to the gym sometimes and we went to coffee shops in the mornings over xmas break to get work done- he is finishing his phd thesis). he then asked me if i wanted more hours.
ok, take a look at my schedule again. i teach 3 consecutive hours (2 diff classes) monday wednesday and friday. 3 hour break until 1330 when i teach another hour. tuesday is not as heavy. do i have space? sure. keep in mind i will also be working once a week or so giving 45 minutes of lecture to a college course (substituting for this same person), and also once a week i will be proctoring a toefl exam (3 hours, usually in the evening or on saturday mornings).
what time are the classes and when? 2 new classes, one new course(writing intensive), from 1030-1230 mwf. in other words, my new schedule would be from 730-1230 mon, wed, fri (3 different classes) and then one hour off and teach again from 1330-1430. 5 consecutive hours. i have never taught that much at once. i have only had 3 different preps (preparing 3 separate classes) once, back in 2000 in the o.c.(virginia that is). 6 more hours of teaching would give me 25 hours a week. not a lot compared to some schools in the usa, but for someone who worked only 15 one month ago, it feels like a lot.
so, what do you think i did? did i take the job? or, did i pass on it because it would overload my schedule, give me no break or preparation time during the day, and generally wear me out?
million dollar question
semester begins on monday. yeehaw
first of all, happy holidays to all. i hope the xmas and new year went quite well. feliz año nuevo y espero que todo fuera bien para todos.
i came in a little early today (there are no classes but i thought i would get here around 8 because starting next week i teach every day at 730am) and had an unexpected visitor.
my schedule for next semester was fairly good: mwf- 730-1030 (3 50minute classes), break, 1330-1430. tu/th- 730-830, 9-1030, break, 1330-1430. i was teaching 5 classes for a total of 19 hours a week. last semester i only taught 5 classes, 15hours a week, and was not too stoked about the money i was making (hence the private lessons). last semester i had a lot of free time. what we do with our free time is often unproductive(professionally) and in this city, requires some sort of money. in other words, i was spending almost as much as i was making each month. not good.
thus, a bump of 4 hours would increase my salary a fair amount, and with the other private lessons i was giving, should have given me plenty of work while silently removing some free time. i was pleased for the most part because i would be giving a literature course and a media, culture & criticism course. smooth sailing.
upon my arrival at 8am or so, i walked into my new office (i now am on the opposite corner of the top floor with an office overlooking the green side of campus- two walls are actually floor to ceiling windows and glass; i also only share the office with one other person- my new supervisor j, who is from canada) and sat down to read for 20 minutes or so. ever since moving offices a few days ago, i have felt great because it seemed as if i were starting over again in some senses.
my surprise came around 9am when my buddy c came into the office. he is a coordinator of a class i thought i would be teaching next semester, but at the last minute i was offered something different. he was definitely supposed to be in a meeting (there is a faculty meeting for those full-time staff), so i thought he was playing hooky and wanted to go get a coffee or something.
he first asked my schedule for next semester, though he knew it (he also lives in the apt under me and we hang out fairly often on the weekends and during the week- we also go to the gym sometimes and we went to coffee shops in the mornings over xmas break to get work done- he is finishing his phd thesis). he then asked me if i wanted more hours.
ok, take a look at my schedule again. i teach 3 consecutive hours (2 diff classes) monday wednesday and friday. 3 hour break until 1330 when i teach another hour. tuesday is not as heavy. do i have space? sure. keep in mind i will also be working once a week or so giving 45 minutes of lecture to a college course (substituting for this same person), and also once a week i will be proctoring a toefl exam (3 hours, usually in the evening or on saturday mornings).
what time are the classes and when? 2 new classes, one new course(writing intensive), from 1030-1230 mwf. in other words, my new schedule would be from 730-1230 mon, wed, fri (3 different classes) and then one hour off and teach again from 1330-1430. 5 consecutive hours. i have never taught that much at once. i have only had 3 different preps (preparing 3 separate classes) once, back in 2000 in the o.c.(virginia that is). 6 more hours of teaching would give me 25 hours a week. not a lot compared to some schools in the usa, but for someone who worked only 15 one month ago, it feels like a lot.
so, what do you think i did? did i take the job? or, did i pass on it because it would overload my schedule, give me no break or preparation time during the day, and generally wear me out?
million dollar question
semester begins on monday. yeehaw
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