LA + Poetry + Poet Friends + Art + Armenian Food + New People + Me + Mark =

Big, big love.

And I love the sleepy, somehow not quite hungover train ride back to north county, too.

Today it was 41 Degrees

And there was hail.

And yet many people are still in T shirts.

Tomorrow Mark and I are going to drink cava, but that has nothing to do with the weather.

I'm pointing you all towards what Nada Gordan said about Hilary Clinton, gender, and the recent primaries.

I admit that I voted for Edwards by mail before he dropped out.

I will not complain about my students.

All I want to yap about is how difficult and challenging (in a boring way) the current group of students in my ESL class is. I'm also in the midst of three days of insane final grading for one of my online classes, which is just ending. I'm testy.

The shower won't drain.

A few weeks ago, I finally potted the clipping from the jade plant that Mark and I had in DC. It's doing quite well, and it's nice to have a little plant here in my office.

It's nice to have an office.

I found my old English grammar book from the first half of my sophomore year in high school in Mexico City. On the back page is a list of potential gifts for people, a note that says "remember Lord of the Flys" (my spelling was even worse then), and a cheesy quote from the song "Fragile," by Sting.

Here's a quote from the grammar book:

"To people who speak standard English, an error in the use of even a single verb is as conspicuous as a smudge on one's face. These additional drills are included to clean up any remaining 'smudges' in your use of the irregular verbs that you have studied so far in this chapter."

or, a favorite sample sentence:

"After Elmo added raisins, he put the cake in the oven."

I'm not sure how studying English grammar in an environment geared towards non-native speakers of English at the same time I was learning Spanish resulted in me enjoying grammar, but it did. Spelling has always annoyed me--grammar I like. It explains structure. Thought. Logic--or lack thereof.

I'm going to name my style: it is called the My New Style is Your New Style Style. Alternatively, it could be called, "I hope this doesn't feel good"

or also "it pains me."

I have a new student who really really wants to talk about condoms. He's 28. I fear that his presence in the class will mean that I have one overwrought young man too many. They all came to California because they thought it was warm all the time and they could go to the beach and meet girls. It's cold now. Too cold for the beach, and most of them don't live near the beach, and getting to the beach takes an hour on the bus, even though it's only five miles from their house. They are overwrought and lack the ability to pay attention to detail. None of them even bought a guidebook before coming here. They didn't look up the weather, they didn't even really research where Oceanside is located. No one gave them any useful advice before they arrived and it didn't ever occur to them that studying English in California would NOT be like starring in an episode of the OC.

In general, I like and respect my students, but I'm having trouble doing that this month. I don't respect them. I want to, but they need to give me some indication that they are thinking. I feel like everything I say to them is a disappointment: they're so fragile. "California is cold. No, not all women are sluts. No, there is no street life in Oceanside. No, you will probably never have the opportunity to go to a house party while you are here. No, the public transportation is terrible. No, you can't go to a club until you are 21. No, there aren't really any clubs to go to. No, the water here is cold all year round. No, the weather isn't nice here in May and June--it's cloudy and overcast every day" etc....

I'm nostalgic for my DC students, who were, in general, tough, polite, funny and independent.

I'm in a pissy mood, so I'm not going to conclude this post with my usual sympathetic counter argument about how my students really are OK sometimes.

how much I like being upside down

This morning I woke up with an Alfred de Musset poem in my head--"Tristesse"--one that I had to memorize for a French class in high school. Most of the poems we had to memorize were by Musset, Jacques Prévert, Verlaine, sometimes Rimbaud. Nothing really surprising. Although I guess we did do a whole unit on Apollinaire and caligrams. And we also read Ionesco's La Cantatrice Chauve and Beckett's En Aattendant Godot. My French teacher had us reading Beckett while I was still hung up on T.S. Eliot and writing imitations of "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock." Meanwhile, in French, I was writing awful but strange poems about salamanders and gypsies. You will never see any of those poems.

I'm not sure I have anything else to say about the "Numbers Trouble" article that I haven't already said before. Doubtless I have much to say about gender and avant-garde art. Yes. Much to say.

I've been reading back issues of Elsewhere and also Hanna Weiner.

I've been trying to figure out what I did to my neck.

Rat Year

Dim Sum over at Delirious Hem. I was too overwhelmed with student behavior problems, plagiarism issues, and two annual reviews to contribute to this forum, but do have a look. If you're even here, though, you probably already know about it. I'll be blogging/commenting on it soon. Maybe.

This was an awful week. I taught my students the verb "whine." Soon, I'll have to teach some of them how to say "momma's boy."

road rode wrode

It is difficult to learn English in English class if you are never in English class. I don't care how much money your parents foolishly paid for you to come here.

However, today was a good day. I rode my bike to work this morning for the first time in weeks. I saw a red-tailed hawk in one of the acacia trees near our apartment, and three herons, and two feral parrots. I rarely see feral parrots around here, so I was very excited. They were smallish, green, and loud. Some kind of conure, probably.

I also now have my California drivers license. At last.

Lester's been in a pissy mood because he's going through his spring molt. Today I gave him a shower/steam bath, which helps take care of the pinfeathers, and he's in a noticeably better mood now.

Ce Soir

Poets in the Galleries
6:00 p.m.

Focusing on women poets living in California, SDMA and the UCSD Department of Literature are proud to present award-winning poets Sandra Doller and Fanny Howe.

Sandra (nee Miller) Doller's first book, Oriflamme, was published by Ahsahta Press in 2005, and her second book, Chora, is forthcoming from Ahsahta in 2009. She was a Distinguished Visiting Writer at Boise State University in spring 2007 and a recipient of the Paul Engle-James Michener Fellowship in 2004. She currently teaches in the literature and writing department at California State University, San Marcos.

Fanny Howe is the author of more than 20 books of poetry and prose, several novels and prose collections, short stories, books for young adults, and a collection of literary essays. Additionally, she has won several awards, including the National Endowment for the Arts, the National Poetry Foundation, the California Council for the Arts, and the Village Voice.
$5 members/$10 nonmembers/$7 students

It's not my assignment

Oh, I wish my sinuses would just explode--that would feel nice(r).

I would never design an assignment that requires developmental English students to write a cause-effect essay on global warming. It is a boring, uncreative assignment, and someone plagiarizes every time. It's bad for the student, obviously, and it's an administrative nuisance. I tell students, "it's easier for you to write a solid essay than it is for you to plagiarize and not have me notice." They do not listen. If someone plagiarizes so well that I can't tell they are actually plagiarizing, then on some level I don't care, because it means that they must have pretty good writing skills.

Probably I am supposed to model qualities of "excellence" and "leadership."

I typed up a poem. I wish html rendered spacing better.

I'm grading. Oops, I mean I'm "providing feedback." I keep forgetting that I'm not actually a professor or a teacher, I'm a "facilitator."

The student who has missed four out of the past ten classes told the evaluators that my class moves too quickly, and the student who dropped down from the advanced class and never does the extra assignments I give him (and which he requests) said that the class moves too slow.

I bought my brother a gift membership to the Audubon Society. I can write that here since I know he doesn't read this blog.

I'm going to make tea.

things between me and death at the hands of two simultaneous performance reviews

are

• 8 year anniversary
• dinner
• beer
• Fanny Howe et Sandra Dollar reading on Tuesday
• pay raise
• tedious community college job applications
• California drivers license test
• cava

All Problems at All Jobs All Together

And all must be solved, even though all are a waste of time.

I've been writing poems, which must mean that I am a poet.

I feel like reading the Plays of Hrotswitha of Gandersheim. That can't be good.

Measuring "ahh"

The commercial promises 365 days of ahh, but how do you measure ahh?

Are we enjoying our task

For the most part, we are.

And I typed up and revised the first part of a new manuscript I'm working on this afternoon. That felt good.

And I felt nearly normal during yoga class this evening. Even during inversions.

Rain (Shel Silverstein)

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I sleep very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can’t do a handstand,
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said—
I’m just not the same since there’s rain in my head.

I am downloading a PDF version of Fun With Grammar.

It's raining about as hard as I've ever seen it rain here.

I am writing an exam for my ESL students.

My voice is still 70% gone.

But...there is hope! The "Parrots in the Land of Oz" Nature special is on tonight--I've been waiting for this for quite some time. My little sisters in Adelaide sent an email about how they feed the parrots in the park near their house...

and

I have a good recipe for a grown-up version or Rice Crispies treats, one that involves almonds and dulce de leche.

I am wearing slippers

And they are warm. Slippers are useful, even in San Diego. My voice is half-back, and after teaching all-day yesterday with no voice and a sensation similar to having a golf ball stuck in my throat, I feel significantly better today.

I have no voice

Well, maybe I have like 15% voice. Teaching tomorrow is going to be "interesting."

Mark and I ate at Terri Cafe in Oceanside for lunch, and the shoyu ramen was quite good. All their noodles are made nearby. Yum.

Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Etc.

Continuous sore throat and messed-up sinuses. Lots and lots of ginger lemon tea.

A mostly good ESL class, which is good.

More flexible and complicated offers from yesterday's interview-a six-month contract? A three-day work week? I'm asking for details, details.

Numerous design and typesetting deadlines today. Some mine, mostly other people's.

Jerome Rothenberg and Steve Willard at UCSD this afternoon. Will Mark and I get out of our offices in time? What interesting/strange/shocking/boring problem will prevent us (or, hopefully, only nearly prevent us) from going?

Showers. Rain. Inevitable accidents. Rainy rides in the, er, rain.