Re-Surfacing

Admittedly, it's been awhile.

Understatement of the century...

It's not my fault though. See, I found a job. That's right, a "REAL" job.

Well, before I found that job, I found another one.

A bit has been happening...

Anyway, the point being, I have a job. A real, tried and true teaching job. I get up at 6 am five days a week, drive to Guelph and proceed to teach Grade 9s French. I am being trusted with their education.

I think I may have grown up.

How the hell did that happen?

More importantly: how do I make it stop?

Teaching Grade nine essentially consists of attempting to convince a room full of 34 hormonal vapid narcissists that they do not, in actually, want to talk about sex. They want to learn French. The result? Every textbook and handout in my class is covered, from top to bottom, in sketches of penises. What can I say? My little proteges are burgeoning Picassos...

And each one of them knows how to say "penis" in French. I considered it a "teachable moment".

Oh ya. Also, saying "we're going to take this up orally" is a really bad idea. Just in case you were wondering.

So the point is, I have a job. I am now a productive member of society. I have attained my goal.

So why am I yearning for Korea?

That's right. I'm desperate for those little hellions that made up 6A2. I would kill to have to sing "Pretty Leaves Are Falling Down" a million times a day for a week. To read "Bear Shadow" for the hundredth time in a day. To give Andrew a sad face for picking his nose and rubbing it onto Nicky's shirt.

Problem? I think so.