Monthly Archives: May 2017

A Disservice to the Italians Ensued

Tonight we had a party at an Italian restaurant. I suspect the Italians would be upset.

Tonight was the welcome party for the school where I work. It was highlighted by the fact that one of my former junior high school students is now a teacher at the school where I work. (And by the fact that he probably has a better contract than I have, albeit with much, much more responsibility.)

As a rule I eat a decent snack before school parties because the food either arrives slowly or in  less than adequate amounts, but today’s party was complicated by happy hour at a family restaurant. We had beer and snacks whilst waiting for the party to start but that’s when things got complicated.

First, we were able to order drinks but the food arrived slowly. It was good but we only got a taste as it arrived preportioned for  each party goer.

Along the way, we were served drinks in pitchers and bottles but not individually. At least not until last call when drinks were sold individually. Food just trickled in.

As soon as I got home I had a snack which is not what you’d expect after a meal at an Italian restaurant.

 

 

 

Same Verse Different Chapter

Today’s topic is pain. Holiday pain.

The most debilitating headache I ever had was migraine I woke up to when I was living in Mississippi. I’d woken up with migraines before but that one was special. I took medicine and drank coffee (and added a shot of booze when that was still a part of my home migraine cure) and tried to go back to sleep. However, the pain was bad enough that I couldn’t sleep. Every position caused pain and nausea and, in the end, all I could do was sit on the sofa in a slightly slouched position that somehow mitigated the pain and wait for the medicine to kick in.

Unfortunately it took most of the morning for the medicine to help enough that I could go back to bed. I was just a sad guy slouching on the sofa and unable to move. I couldn’t read and I couldn’t raise my head enough to watch TV comfortably. (Also, TV is pretty bad for a migraine especially as that was the era when the networks began blasting commercials at full volume.)

I do not remember if I missed work that day or if it was a holiday. All I remember is the pain and the sofa.

Today’s headache was almost that bad. I realized how serious it was and took the medicine and drank coffee and tried to do some work (today was a day off but I had plans to work on some things for my classes). Failing that, I tried taking a short nap. Luckily, I was able to get a decent nap. Unfortunately it didn’t help much.

Eventually I took a second nap that lasted most of the afternoon. I’m now in migraine hangover mode and taking a serious look at recent changes in my diet and recent weight gain.

Crazy and Snarky but Not Adult

My students assure me my bad student is bad in all his classes, but often in different ways.

Today, my bad first year junior high school student finally gave in to boredom and fell asleep. I kept waking him up, which annoyed him.

I also asked the other students if he was like that in other classes. They said he was bad, but chatty in other classes which means what he’s doing in my class is an act. This means the devils of my worse nature are stretching and getting ready for a useless battle.

Today, my students were preparing conversations/presentations for Friday when parents will probably arrive. (Actually, Saturday will be the busiest day, but a few mothers and grandparents will show up for my classes.) My worst student did nothing other than use his textbook as pillow.

At  the end of class I told him that if he fell asleep again I’d take his chair and make him stand/sit on the floor and that I had no problem doing that in front of parents. (Note: in my time at the school where I work I’ve been seen shouting at students; sending students out into the hall; and thrown high school students out of class during observations.)

My bad student responded by shrieking as he was being stabbed. I responded by shrieking even louder. This surprised him and I reminded him that I’d take his chair. He snarked off at me, in English (See you; good bye) and left.

Next class, depending on how many parents are around, I’ll encourage him to get involved and slowly try to set him off. Eventually he will explode and all the sympathy will be mine.

My techniques are not mature, but they can be effective.

 

Wasteful Spending Time

It’s not the kind of alone time I actually look forward to.

Today She Who Must Be Obeyed and our youngest returned from my in-laws’ house and our oldest disappeared to parts unknown that involved the tickets mentioned in the last couple posts.

This meant it fell on me to return the house to a livable state. Luckily, this didn’t involve much more than washing some dishes, vacuuming, and removing our oldest’s stuff from the living room and dumping the stuff on her desk. (Note: She Who Must Be Obeyed prefer’s to complain about the presence of such stuff in the living room; I tend to prefer to make our oldest complain about the presence of such stuff on her desk.)

Other than that, I didn’t do much. One curse of having a long holiday is the tendency to start enjoying it too much and falling into the habit of doing nothing and that means a lot of time gets wasted.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, because I’m already in the habit of doing nothing, it doesn’t bother me as much as it should.

 

Scraps and Things but no Coherence

Today, as is becoming a habit, I can’t be bothered. It isn’t just this bit of blather, it’s a lot of things. That means today’s post will be short and random.

I updated yesterday’s post to correct typos and to let readers know what happened with the tickets. I’m not sure if it was good news or not.

I intended to do some work on book number three but hit a snafu with Scrivener. Much trial and error and swearing ensued and although I got things working, I came away with shocking strong hatred of the people who gave us Scrivener. (For all its strengths, it’s still an oddly clunky bit of software that’s currently behaving irrationally.)

I did manage to do a little work on book three, but the experience left me wondering how to approach the project. In other words, all the computer trouble got me thinking and when I start thinking I stop working. (Much of my teaching related and writing related work are proof that no thinking was involved.)

For supper, I continued an “I can’t be bothered” tradition and went and got sushi from the grocery store. I usually do this at least once whilst She Who Must Be Obeyed is away, but today I initiated our oldest into the tradition.

Now I have to get the house in order for She Who Must Be Obeyed’s return. Unfortunately, I can’t be bothered.

 

Scam Probably Not a Scam

Please See Update at End of this Post.

Our oldest learned a lesson about internet shopping. Sort of. She Who Must Be Obeyed learned a lesson too. I, as usual, played the part of Cassandra.

Our oldest, thanks to a slush fund from her grandparents, has become the concert ticket purchaser for her group of groupies. She buys the tickets, her friends reimburse her.

This time, though, there were complications. After supposedly being posted on a Friday, the tickets hadn’t arrived by Wednesday and everyone in the house (translation: our oldest and She Who Must Be Obeyed) went into panic mode. Emails were sent and sent again when replies didn’t arrive expeditiously.

I pointed out that Saturday was a national holiday and Sunday didn’t have mail service and this week is Golden Week and that probably slowed things down. I was ignored and a couple rants about the situation ensued, I pointed out that they were stuck in a position where one person had the money and the other person couldn’t prove they hadn’t received the tickets because no one thought to send the tickets registered mail.

As I predicted, the seller claimed our oldest had actually received the tickets and was trying to pull a scam to get her money back. More rants ensued and She Who Must Be Obeyed contacted the post office to elicit help.

Now, apparently, the tickets are supposed to arrive on Saturday for the Sunday concert. I almost hope they don’t, as I suspect the lesson is more important than the arrival of the tickets.

Update: The tickets arrived safe and sound. However, it appears they were mailed not on the Friday, but on the day our oldest and She Who Must Be Obeyed started complaining. Curiouser and curiouser.

 

 

Music and Performance

I missed last year’s show because of bad information and photography, but this year’s show was pretty good. Long, but pretty good.

Today was the annual performance of our oldest’s brass band club. They rent a city auditorium and there are tickets and expensive programs involved.

Last year, because of bad information (no one told me about it),  I missed the show because I’d made plans to meet a friend to take pictures of a big Buddha.

This year, though, the information was both good and timely and I made plans to go. I even managed to take our youngest to lunch before the show.

The show itself was good. The band puts on a good show and we managed to get decent seats that allowed me record the entire show and actually include our oldest in the video.

The first act was all band performance and included the third year students. The second act was a series of comedy skits that according to She Who Must Be Obeyed were superior to the skits I missed last year. (Translation: I dodged a bullet last year.)

The third act involved slower music (my only complaint about the show) and tears. This is because there was a long farewell to the third year high school students (12th graders) who are getting ready for university entrance exam hell. For me the hell was the four hour speech (some claim it was only ten minutes) given by one of the retiring 12th graders.

Next year, of course, I’ll have to go again, as our oldest will be retiring.

There will be lots of tears.

The Perils of Golden Week and Fifth Seasons

Except for our oldest, we all enjoyed a lazy first day of the Golden Week holiday.

I finished my Babylon 5 revisit and came away remembering why I found the fifth season annoying. Tracy Scoggins was better as Captain Lochley than I remember and the season had a few interesting moments, but it suffered from being tacked on to fourth season that resolved all the main conflicts and plot lines. Season five didn’t have a unifying story, just a lot of stand-alone scripts that felt a lot like spec submissions from new writers.

The makeup still looks impressive, especially on G’Kar and the other Narn, but the computer special effects look a lot like 90’s computer games. In a bad way.

The main problem though: Singing Hippy Telepaths. I’m being serious. Singing Hippy Telepaths.

I also managed to get some printing done and start work on the revision of book two.

Book three, which is partly written, continues to taunt me.

 

 

A Room Full of Blank Stares

The lower level classes at the school where I work seem to get lower every year. Today being the day before the Golden Week holidays didn’t help much.

After a ho-hum year of classes last year that even I felt were boring I’ve decided to add more games to my classes to add some competition and some fun. The problem, and this is why I stopped doing games years ago, is that lower level classes often require explanations that are longer than the games and I can only simplify my language so much before using Japanese, which I won’t do in class.

Today I thought I had the perfect game: it was based on something in the textbook and it only required the students to copy numbers printed in the textbook and show them to me. I would then state how many they had correct and send them off to make changes. (It was, in essence, a simpler form of Mastermind.)

However, after having it work in two other classes, albeit both higher level, I was surprised when no one in the class understood what I wanted them to do. Usually one student gets it and educates the others. This time I explained it four times and no one moved. I got a couple uncomfortable snickers but no one even bothered to pick up a pencil. (Note: that’s not an exaggeration; every student sat as if he was frozen in place.)

Also keep in mind that this is the kind of class that prefers to complain that they don’t understand what I’m saying when I talk rather than actually listening to what I’m saying. They are the kind of class that answers “How are you?” when I ask “How are you?” despite them having had at least a year of English.

I abandoned the game and told them to practice a conversation. I also assured them there would be no games in the class.

If they don’t want any fun, I promise I won’t give them anything fun to do.

Enter Golden Week

As bad as it was today, it will be worse on Saturday, but that won’t be my problem.

This week is Golden Week in Japan. Three holidays mash together with a fourth provided for free between two of them.

This year the three-in-a-row fall on Wednesday through Friday giving Japan–or more specifically ME–a five day weekend.

However, last Saturday was the start of Golden Week and although it didn’t effect me because I have Saturdays off, it did give my students a day off. Then, they had to come back to school for two days before getting a long break. This means that, with a few exceptions, they were mostly useless. Those who weren’t useless were noisy and a select few, well, actually a majority, were both useless and noisy. Some of them only see me once this week and they consider me an interruption in their holiday.

The payback, though, will happen next Saturday. They will have school whilst I loiter about at home pretending to do stuff. Or more specifically, listing all the stuff I want to do and ignoring the stuff I need to do.