Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Teaching.

The school year is almost at its halfway point, and there are some things I want to remember about my life right now.

I want to remember how excited my little after school choir is every week when we meet.  Sometimes I struggle to love working that one extra hour after school, but they are just so happy to be there.  I want all my students to share just a baby amount of that excitement in every class they have.  I want them to discover the power of learning.

I want to remember those little moments when a student shares an accomplishment with me.  A 100% on a ten point assignment??  Perfect.  Nothing lower than a C on your progress report?  Amazing.  Coming to school in only a hoodie when its 0 degree (degrees? i will have to research this) outside?  You're crazy but I'm glad you're here.  Telling me you've memorized every word to the song Royals by Lorde and then proving it to me on command?  My favorite.

I want to remember the looks of disgust I get from students when they see my One Direction calendar.  December is Louis, and no one is happy about that.


I want to remember the kids calling me to their circle to tell me a secret.  I love middle school secrets so much.  If we could all live with so much passion as seventh graders.

I want to remember their faces when they 'get it'.  

I want to remember how much I like my coworkers.  Because I really, really do.  And hopefully I will still like them in five months.  I'd even take four months.

It would be great if I could remember everything funny they say.  And how one day they love me and the next they hate me so much.  It really is impressive how quickly they get over things.  I need to learn that.

Mostly, I like where I'm at right now.  And I don't want to forget it. 

fin.

Monday, December 9, 2013

Tinder

There's this new(ish) app out there in the world called Tinder.


When you get older, or when you're young and it's the trendy/trashy thing to do, you decide some things in life are ridiculous and kind of dumb but you still do them because what could it hurt?  Pride and shame are overrated at this point.


Tinder is one of these things.  For those of you not familiar, here is a brief description.


If you remember Hot or Not of days gone by (the website where pictures of humans appear and you rate them on a scale of 1-10 based on their hotness...over and over and over again), Tinder is not completely foreign to you.  In fact, some may say they blossom from the same superficial flower.

You download the app.  It connects to Facebook to get your info (there is no such thing as privacy in this world), and you create a profile of sorts.  This profile consists of five or so pictures, your age, and some text.  The text varies among people, some simply throwing down a line or two of something they find clever, and others writing awkward paragraphs about their lives that nobody actually reads but everyone still judges.  It also lets you know if you and a stranger have any Facebook friends in common...for whatever reason.


This is mostly it.  You put in some specifications about what you're looking for in a man (or woman) and the app searches for matches within a certain amount of miles from you.  Thanks, technology.  Now a stranger can see if I'm a mile away and he can invite me over for some drink.  


The first match/picture appears.  If you find this match to your liking (from the picture they put up of them fishing and their text with only the letters KCCO) (seriously, i had no idea so many dudes took pictures of them fishing.  or in their cars with their dogs.  so many dogs.) (and KCCO? keep calm and chive on?  what does this actually mean??) then you swipe their picture to the right (or click the little heart).  If you're not interested, you swipe left and forget they exist.  It's that easy.  You just keep swiping.  Left/right.  Left.  Left.  Left.  Right.  Left.  Love doesn't take long at all.

Here's the genius.  You are only notified if both you and the other person swipe right (or say yes).  There is no way to contact each other until Tinder lets you know 'you've matched!'.  This enables a messenger where you can talk and men will inevitably start the conversation with something really witty (examples: hola. hey. hello. or what is your cup size?).  

I matched with a guy named Corrupt the other day.  We had a nice chat until he started telling me about all the alcohol and then weapons his apartment contained.  Sorry, Corrupt, I don't think I can make it over for whiskey.  Also, I don't drink whiskey.  He told me that I looked like a sweetheart in all my pictures except the first one.  That one was, and I quote, 'seriously unflattering'.  He was 'just being honest'.  

Dating of the future is so hard.