Part Time Work @ MindSay 
but remember...
NOBODY FORCES YOU TO WORK FOR THEM!!
we're both going to attempt to get jobs for this year,
and then this summer before she starts band camp she'll come spend a week here as i finish up my childrens improv program (which i want to do because i love it, and it'll be another 400 dollars in the bank) and then take me back to Georgia.
that's a Plan. =))
as in something that's going to Happen.
since she'll be working and whatnot, and turning 18 before she comes and picks me up, she can figure out the apartment situation before i get there, so we don't have to worry about staying with someone before we find an apartment.
and she'll be working part time at a hospital while she's still in school, which means that i won't have to work as much, and that means that i'll for Sure be able to get classes done.
oh man.
this is really, Really happening.
=D
totally off topic for the most part,
but last night i had a really clear, vivid dream about me and Jessi sitting in our little one bedroom apartment,
it was a little messy with mismatched furniture,
and we had a baby.
our little newborn Aiden.
and let me tell you, we were the Cutest, Happiest little family.
and when i woke up, i wanted that.
then and there.
of course, the fiscally responsible side of me won't let me have kids until after i'm done with university and we're settled in whatever theater community we end up in and we've both got steady, decent paying jobs.
but damn it, it would be so amazing to be that cute little family.
even though i don't think i'm ready to give up the few years of 'us' time that me and Jessi are so looking forward to.
=)
all the dreams i've ever had are in the process of coming true,
and i can't get over how happy i am.
Link.
Me too.
I’m an adjunct professor, one of hundreds of thousands in an overeducated, unmoored, disposable work force staffing a majority of the nation’s colleges and universities.
Me too, except I have an office and a desk. I do have a name to my coworkers.
At the community college where I work, I have no permanent desk or office, no telephone, no benefits and, to many, no name.
This is true. Adjuncting is low-wage and actually very low-status. I would describe adjuncting teaching as "impersonating a professor."
When I calculate the time and money spent traveling, grading, answering e-mail, teaching and planning, my wages come to about $9 an hour.
This is what I do as well. It's interesting, challenging, and meaningful.
Each week I read two to three pages from each of them — about C-sections, lost loves, getting beaten up.
I recall stories about abortion, murder, suicide, and rape, but also children, family, and love.
I recall the young man who grew up on a street with a bicycle shop on the corner and was taunted by customers riding near his house, knowing that his parents could never afford to buy him a bike. And the young woman who was caught in gang crossfire, and still carries the scars on her knees from her dive to the pavement.
Translation: these students are not on a very good career track, whether attending college or not. The number of students that overcome their context is frustratingly few. The ability to follow the unspoken rules of the professional setting is the sine qua non of education and career.
I love my students’ lack of pretension, their raw intellect. Messages arrive in my in-box from “hotpinkylady” and “ferretman389” addressed to “Jamieson” — the professor part lopped off, or forgotten. They’re not afraid to tell me that the books and stories we read are dull, or that I’m confusing them.
True. This doesn't mean that students' excuses are any more or less legitimate. "Everybody's got a story," as one veteran told me to say to students not doing the work -- and not learning.
When I started at the college, I took it as a personal failure every time a student dropped out. But time and again in students’ lives, the responsibility of caring for young children and elderly parents, or the effort of balancing 50-hour workweeks, outweighed the importance of distinguishing run-on sentences from fragmented ones.
Overall translation of the article: Adjunct teaching is fun and meaningful work. Employers humiliate their own faculty with no-benefits, low-wage, contingent work. If you want to be an adjunct, you must either be supported by someone with a "real job" or pray that Congress will soon pass health care reform. Although one's relationship does not change between student and teacher when one is adjunct or full-time with benefits, it is profoundly unwise and even self-destructive to work as an adjunct.
Forgotten in this article is the sea of flakes who are hired and fired as adjuncts -- turnover not unlike Wal-Mart. Higher education's dependence on nonunion, contingent labor lowers quality, employee morale, and betrays the trust students give to colleges and universities. While I love to teach and I love helping people, I am profoundly disillusioned -- and bitter -- with my experience as an adjunct. I feel like I am impersonating a real professor. Higher education's dependence on adjuncts will not soon change, and the number of highly educated people willing to work as adjuncts means that the economics of teaching will not soon change. I need a new line of work, and fast -- one with a living wage and benefits, one where I can provide for myself and my family. A career where I provide a meaningful, socially beneficial service -- but without getting humiliated in the process.
So I got another job, in addition to part time at McDonalds in Upper.
It is at Sakura's Garden, a Chinese Place in Bucyrus.
It is really fun, most of the time, unless we get really busy and then the Chinese men that work there get frantic and start talking wayyyyyyy to fast and then I can't catch a word of what they are trying to say.
Geez.
And it is my first time being a waitress.
It's not bad.
Oh, and I get to work with my BFF Angela.
She got me the job there.
: D
I get a lotta tips.
That I don't get to keep because we have split them up with everyone else.
Ugh.
Oh well.
Thats the way it goes.
: D
Now moving on to the subject of my party.
Mom and dad are cooperating a little better.
Mom has been making a little more of an effort to be actually involved in my life.
Hmmm...
Now to senior year stuff.
I CANNOT WAIT TO FUCKING GRADUATE!
Um. At our band concert last sunday, I won the John Phillip Sousa Award : D
It's a big deal among musicians : D
Also, we had an awards program for school, and I was recognized for good grades and stuff, but I didn't win ANY fucking scholarships.
Ugh.
It blew sitting there the whole time waiting for my name to be called for ANYTHING, and never hearing it.
It kinda sucks after all the time I spent filling out form after form after form....
Grrrr....
So.
Now. I have to eat something. I AM STARVING
So gonna go do that.
Ciao.
E was early again because the bus is now just him, but D came in today on time-ish. Again he got breakfast. The issue this morning was when he got some of the PB and J from his bagel onto Mr. Parker’s desk and refused to wipe it off. Getting food on someone’s desk is annoying at best; but when the person is allergic to both peanut butter and fruit (aka, the stuff jelly’s made out of), it’s actually kind of a big deal. He actually said, ‘it’s not my desk so it’s not mine anymore’. This is PARKER who he is INFATUATED with. We were both just incredulous that it took an actual 6 minutes of serious prompting to get him to wipe a little stuff off of Parker’s desk so Parker wouldn’t get sick. What is that?
Morning started out a little rough, because E refused to go to speech w/ Michelle and D refused to do the DIBELS (reading test) with Claudia, but we eventually at least got D to do the reading. He’s made some improvements, which is AWESOME, but not as much as I thought; I think he’s still in the ‘at-risk’ category, which is NOT GOOD. Reading instruction didn’t go well; E is refusing to read chapter books, so I went to grab some Nate the Great because I thought it was a chap book with pictures (what he wanted)(it isn’t, just a long story…). Then Parker and the 2 walk in and we checked some books out of the library. I now know how to work the check-out system : ). I also found out they borrowed 2 books in OCTOBER that we haven’t gotten back…and they’re on MY name… grr.
Lunch E didn’t want salad bar OR the nachos that were for lunch, so he cashed-in for pizza from Christopher’s. Then apparently Claudia and Parker also ordered food, but I chose not to. When I got to the room, it was already paid for, so I don’t know who I owe money to, but they took care of it without me. They take care of a LOT without me. : (. Thing I missed today: D walking across room while mad and saying, “Goddamnsonofabitch”, aka Z’s catch-phrase. Someone else pulled out a catch-phrase today, but I can’t remember who or which one. Z has left an effect on all of us. I miss him.
After lunch, E refused to go to reading group with me. I asked if I could tell him the plan, because it was just to finish the packet and then make up a recipe for cookies for next week, and he was not having it, and I had to go. So I went, and I got Erin and Jenny set up. I was leaving to use the restroom briefly, when E was in the hall. I was so excited he was coming that I knew I couldn’t leave or he might, so I held it. Group went pretty well. E forgets he ‘hates’ the group and talks to me with huge amounts of animation, and I can tell he TOTALLY loves that I remember stuff like his first best friend’s name, the kid up the street of his new house, his cats’ names… things that matter to him and show him I actually care about what he’s saying. It’s also gotta be a HUGE compliment to him because his speech is so unintelligible to everyone else that they don’t understand 50% of what he’s saying.
Negative bit of group = E calling Erin out on saying something that didn’t make sense. Apparently, he’s still bitter/mad at her from the gym incident on Thursday involving her, a bug, and his sweatshirt. Considering how much he DOESN’T care about being dirty, I’m deeply interested by how much he was bothered by that. OH! He’s the other flashback! He had to title his mystery in my group, and he said, “Miss E, wouldn’t A have come up with a really funny title for this?” and then “Remember that time A wrote a story about the Chicken Milk Cow Fish?”. THROWBACK.
Mini issue when they decided to look at an I Spy book through cash-in. Transition to SS had E calling us ‘Liars’ that we hadn’t told them, but he recovered SUPER fast, and came over to the comp to do the quick work I had designed…a month ago. D came over at his own sweet pace, and then all of the sudden, his wrist was hurting again (it’s not even his writing wrist, but it flares up sometimes when work is put in front of him) so he and Parker went to the nurse. The wrist was FINE during recess, but you know how those things go. To be fair, there IS a weird bump on it, but if it hurts too much to do your class work (WITH YOUR OTHER HAND, YOU LEFTY!), it HAS to hurt too much to run around tagging people and trying to grab the flag. I’m just saying.
Que mas? I typed up my progress reports and they're submitted, I took a nice walk to work this morning and I mean I really enjoyed my time, and then after school I met with Claire, realized the IEP was terrible, but none of my tutorettes showed up so I just worked on that for an hour and submitted them. w00t.
*The title of this entry = when A is agitated during writing time, he kind of shuts down a bit. Well, he kind of goes into this state where he freaks out and pulls out these default phrases, which is him shutting down. One that he THINkS will shorten his writing time (it doesn't) is "once upon a time, the end. okay, am I done? okay!?!". Several versions of that, but the main one is the 'once up on a time, the end'. I miss him; I hope he is back this week.
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