A Slice

The setting: The normal furor of the 1st grade classroom.  Amidst flying papers and heated juvenile emotions, I frantically, desperately try to gain control.  I look around and only a handful of students bother to listen.

As I clasp my hands on my head, Dwayne trots up to me and beckons.  He looks up at me with his saucer-like basset hound eyes and in a hushed tone he whispers, "Mr. Lim, you're going to have a hard time getting Sharice and Trevell to do work today because they're boyfriend and girlfriend."

I look over and Sharice is sitting quietly with her hands folded -- a smile painted on her face that would let her get away with murder.  Trevell is doing something crazy -- probably slapping the student next to him or gyrating on the dreadfully dirty floor.

Ah first grade.  Where love was just a word printed on pink cards and all it takes to start a fight is who holds possession to the book "Sinbad the Pig".  

These kids have no idea what they're in for.

My Life Would Suck Without...

Winter Weather Advisory

Back in Texas if the streets were icy, school was closed. If "snow" was anywhere mentioned in the forecast, things shut down. If the temperature dropped below 30, it was time to stay in and drink hot chocolate.

But oh, how the midwest views things differently. I suppose I'm in the dead of winter. So far, I've spent 3 hours traveling 20 miles, had to dig my car out from under 10 inches of snow and braved -10 degree temperatures. Winter has been a brutal mistress. I will no longer complain about the 3 week Austin winters but you really haven't lived until your car has slid out of your control into the stationary vehicle in front of you.

I find it interesting that I'm that guy from Texas that is so ill-prepared for cold weather. Everyone complains about the cold and the snow, but when I do it becomes, "Oh that's right you're from Texas!".

But the snow will still fall and the temperatures will still plummet and all of this will be miserable -- for a time. The misery of winter reminds me that in a few months time the snow will thaw, the mercury will steadily rise, and the world will continue to spin.

Vacation Wrap-up

While riffling through the 20 or so pictures I took during break I wondered, what is the purpose of vacation? Ostensibly, it's to provide a much needed break from -- whatever. Work, kids, responsibility, life, who knows what. But since when did vacation become an emotionally and physically taxing journey from one geographic location to another?

Disclaimer: I don't want to sound like I'm complaining about having time off. I absolutely adore it.

My vacation began with two days of doing nothing here in Chicago. The city was in a deep freeze and due to a schedule snafu I ended up being here holed up in my house trying to barricade myself from the (literal) sub-zero temperatures.

Which brings us to the actual vacation. Wikipedia defines it as a leave of absence from regular occupation for rest or recreation. I think often times it serves as a break from typical routine. It has the somewhat catch-22 effect of making you appreciate your day-to-day life while still making you desire the life you have in your off-time. Example: I could spend my days lounging about with my friends, eating a great restaurants and living in leisure, but golly, I can't wait to get back home to Chicago!

Over the break I had the opportunity to strengthen friendships that had been somewhat dormant. I also had a unique experience that left me both exhilarated and saddened. At risk of being too vague, I will simply leave it at that. Suffice to say this leave of absence has not left me quite centered. I still feel emotionally and mentally a bit disquieted, especially as I sit here in my house, once again all but abandoned, left only with my wandering thoughts.

As my bags lay at the door, still packed, jammed with a whirlwind of memories and gifts in need of exchanging, I still look forward to that tiny slice of rest and recreation.

ho Ho HO

Happy Holidays everyone.

...and everything was fine

It was the start of a frigid, icy day. It seems as though all the air had frozen in the middle of the night and was deposited on my fair city.

Of course, I was running late. Not to mention I had fallen asleep at 9 the night prior meaning I had gotten absolutely no work done. I woke up, stumbled around a drafty house and ambled to work.

It started out as a typical chaotic run-around. I ran around making transparency agendas and bullshit worksheets. The ball started rolling and roll it did. I was run over by each and every class. Despite the fact that the most unruly kids weren't present, classes were still out of control. I spent several moments gazing out the window, eyes welling up in tears, yearning to break free.

The final class was a double period of the most disrespectful, rude, lazy kids. It seemed that their sole purpose in life was to drive me mad. Everything became some sort of negotiation. I clasped my hands on my head and prayed the clock would tick a little faster. I sent them out, forgoing a formal lining up procedure, my head spinning from the stench of 10-year olds and under-achievement.

I felt defeated.

And then a little boy from the second grade class came in.

"Hi Mr. Lim" and he wrapped his tiny arms around my torso.

And everything was fine.

I quit

Those two words run through my head every single minute of every single class. Would it be giving in? Of course. Would I be happier? Probably. Unfortunately there's also a little thing called fiscal responsibility which tugs at my lingering thoughts of freedom.

As little Javante was sashaying his little 4th grade 'tude all around the classroom, I thought to myself, this would be the perfect time to quit. But my resignation had to be dramatic. I couldn't just waste it on the little beasts in class. Who, then? My principal most likely wasn't going to be in her office and even then I really didn't want to rub it in her face -- she wasn't the reason for my unhappiness. What would be optimal is if I could scream, I quit to each and every class that has made my life a living hell for the past four months.

"Good morning class 311, I quit, have a great rest of your day"

"Good afternoon class 211, I quit, have a great evening"

No matter how it goes, though, I'd always want to do it better which, ultimately, might be why I'm not quitting. I would never be able to get it right and it will never live up to my expectations.

Besides, nothing would torture them more than having me show up to work every day.

The Real Reason I'm doing this