I think it show immense growth that I can simultaneously have a touch of trepidation at the idea of receiving feedback from someone on a song I created, and also comfortable consideration of that person’s ideas, without panic or a feeling of defensiveness. I would have been both in the past, I have very little doubt. Now, however, I see that I can accept the offerings for what they are – offerings for improvement -, and then evaluate them genuinely, and either accept or reject them based on what I truly want for the song, separate from any feelings of not being good enough, or anything else like that.

It feels odd, but the comfort of it is surprisingly wonderful.

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So, I wrote these songs. I like them. As it turns out, I am now entirely clear that I want to turn them into real songs, so to speak. I want a full instrumentation on them, and a great recording quality. I want them to be like any other song I might play off of a phone or computer or sound system. I want them to be real songs. How bizarre is that? I thought that was for the select few in the world…
I actively want to work on them and improve them wholly. And I can see that I truly will do all of that.
How truly bizzare… and that it feels so utterly casual, normal for me. Perhaps this is a perfect example of my cousin’s point as to whether I even knew what normal was. 😛
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I genuinely do not know what to say. I am exhausted, and for many reasons. But today was oddly satisfying in many ways. Troubles from yesterday have not been handled. But much good was accomplished today for other parts of my life, and I feel really good about those things. I look forward gladly to applying some of the work I created today in classes tomorrow.

I love teaching…

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Why does education and race have to come into the conversation? Well, because there’s usually a very good reason for a stereotype. But being upset about the situation and merely perpetuating and allowing the stereotype to continue serves no one. Acknowledging where things truly stand, and then doing something to improve the education that perpetuates the stereotype, however… Now, that would serve us all, and very, very well.

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I tried to make a paleo-ish vanilla malted milkshake today. It used a frozen, cooked sweet potato, along with the vanilla and coconut milk and almond milk and some dates, as well as the non-paleo malted milk powder.

Guess what. It tasted like sweet potato and malt. It was okay as a weird sweet potato smoothie-ish thing. But it was a terrible vanilla malt.

Just dreadful.

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80s Day

In the shop today, they had a theme of “80s workout”. Suffice it to say that I was best-dressed, and by far. And I only just threw something casual together last night. I had worried that I would be crushed by the competition, considering what pieces would make amazing 80s workout outfits, leotards included. Clearly, however, that was not a problem. 😛

I even lent my whistle to one girl who went for an 80s/early 90s gym coach look. It was super cute and the whistle definitely completed the outfit. But, aside from her, no one else had dressed to the theme with much success.

So, I might have just looked a little ridiculous and like an 80s-loving hipster, but at least I actually am an 80s-loving hipster.

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Malted milkpsych

We went to Galveston specifically to have a malt together. One of my favorite parts of having a malt, aside from the malt flavor itself, is having the cold, cold beverage served in the tall, frosted, metal mixing cup, and eating it with the long metal spoon. Usually, my mom eats what is served in the glass, and I have exclusively what is still in the metal cup. There’s just something about it that completes the experience for me.

We arrive at the shop today, and discover that the confectionary is only serving items in styrofoam cups at present…

Well, I’ve waited close to two and a half years at this point, so I suppose I can wait a while longer to have this malt experience.

In the meantime, my mom has determined to do her best effort of making a vanilla malt for me at her house on Sunday afternoon. She supposedly has all the necessary ingredients and tools, so we shall see what happens…

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I am cold, but not ashamed, sitting naked on the floor.

I have been putting together ideas for how to approach a particular class that I’m teaching. You see, I absolutely love teaching – I can’t stop getting excited about it, when I have the opportunity actually to do it. I just love teaching and helping people learn things. And teaching foreign language, despite its struggles, is one of the most exciting things I have ever been able to do in my life. I really wish that I could devote more of my life to doing just that: teaching foreign language.

I think I always got so frustrated with teaching, even though it was mostly foreign language, because of the books I had to follow. I would do my best to use the books, but despised how terrible they were, not just in terms of accuracy, but in terms of how ineffective they were in creating someone who genuinely could say, “I speak this language.” And so, I would make a belated effort to come up with something better, while keeping on track with the required timing of the course, and covering whatever silly info the book had thrown in as ‘important’ for the course. Actually, of the courses – I was never just teaching one, but usually three to five courses in French, all at once.

And I think that that is how I grew so exhausted. The frustration combined with the inefficiency and knowing that I could do so much better, if only I had the time. Yet, when summer came around, or any other longer break, I was already too exhausted to do anything about it all, and too overwhelmed by the frustrations and inefficiency in which I had been living for so many months already. It was easier just to give up. And, eventually, it was easier just to walk away. The state requirements were too stupidly set up for my efforts to be worth it on my own, it felt.

And yet, there was something else. Something I hadn’t realized until, perhaps, this week… maybe, even, until today.

I had not found a place where I truly wanted to put forth the effort. I had not found a school for which it felt my efforts would be worth it.

And yet, as I mentioned, though I never take work home with me, I am sitting here on the floor, most likely at home (because I’m definitely not sitting around in my office naked), working. But this isn’t work for me. It is something I am excited and impatient to do. So, I am doing it. Well, I was doing it. Once I hit the point of being done for now – no longer thrilled by it -, I closed up shop for the night. I likely will revisit it all tomorrow and Saturday, and possibly will go in to school on Sunday or Monday for the more “work” part of it all, the labor that isn’t so fun, but necessary for it all to be great.

And, you know, I excited about that. What kind of weekend is that? A wonderful one, filled with a sense of accomplishment and helping make the world a better place, and making a positive difference in the lives of those around me, on the lives of people I love.

So, I can hardly wait to get back to work. For now, though, Imma get up, get dressed, and get to sleep, because I’m exhausted.

Goodnight, all.

And may God and The Universe bless us all with love. 😉

P.S. If you got that song reference, it is extra fun, because I really have been torn about all of this teaching stuff lately. I thought I had left teaching for good…, but then I got an e-mail and phone call this summer, and here I am, teaching for the semester… and loving it in the most ironic of ways.

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Loving boys

I told the boys in last period today, before class started, that I was exhausted and that I was rather borderline in tears, and requested that, therefore, they aim, please, to be a bit more gentle in class today, be kind, help me out. They seemed stunned, and some even openly asked what was up for me. I just told them that there were just a lot of things with which I am having to deal at present, both in- and outside of school, and I’m exhausted.

And, though they are very young and forgetful and ridiculous and lacking in self-control, they actually did a very decent job today. Several of the boys helped keep others in check, such that I didn’t have to tell them each to hush so often as usual. It was still tough, but much improved from usual, and their genuine sweetness shone through. It made me love them even more… which made me want to cry for a whole ‘nother reason! 😛

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The fittest

Sometimes, I think nature is unfair. The Darwinism inside of us thinks only of certain degrees of fitness, when it evaluated those around us. It cares little for whether someone is emotionally available, or anything like that. It cares almost exclusively for the breeding power of the individual. And so, every time I ovulate, I get a terminator-style analysis presented to me of every single male I cross, declaring his ranking on the scale of positive breeding potential…, with absolutely no concern as to whether I actually want to have such an analysis… on any of them, let alone all of them.

But such is life, it seems.

One plus, I suppose, is that I would be well aware of whom to seek out, should we have a population crisis, and we needed to rebuild the population ASAP. 😛

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