The Second Time I Hated Snow

I was supposed to go to DC tonight to do a networking night. You know, to meet people. Unfortunately, snow decided to hit at the most inopportunte time.

It all started yesterday when I was at Border having lunch with Laura. I thought that would be the end of the snow, meaning it was just a really violent flurry. But then I went to sleep and BAM there was snow on the ground.

My parents were originally not going to let me go (which is sort of ridiculous, I'm 21, I could take a train, they can't really ground me). But then I wake up and they're like, "Yeah, I-95 will be clear."

Naturally as soon as I get the go ahead, they cancel it. Bummer!

Mo Finals, Mo Problems

As nervous as I am about the real world next year, I'm really super psyched that I will no longer have to write 12-15 pages about stuff I'm sick of talking about.

In the next two to three weeks, I will need to finish that paper (which by now is done and ready to be turned in), do a multimedia presentation — which includes a video, audios slideshow, audio standalone, still photos, text, maps, graphs, and interactives, write two essays for Holocaust, write two longer essays for Magical Realism (one of which is due next week, one of which is due during finals), and take a test in Italian.

Grumble grumble grumble grumble.

Hey Flunkee! Your Music Sucks

Dear Summer School Students -


It has come to my attention that you not only can't pass 7th grade algebra, but that you have shitty taste in music.
I

I have no problem with you listening to music so long as I can't hear it. If it helps you work better, fine. If you're ignoring your work because you're listening, that's cool too, just do it quietly.


I have no reason to be listening to your shit gangsta rap (because you're from the mean streets of Delaware) or Justin Bieber (makeitstopmakeitstopmakeitstop).


Thanks much. Keep on working/dicking around.

Summer School Silence

I was sort of expecting the first day of summer school to be a freaking nightmare, but shockingly it's going pretty well.

It started off sort of crappy.

My alarm went off at 6, which, ew. After hauling my ass out of bed by like 6:15 and getting dressed and all I moseyed my way down Kirkwood Highway to Stanton, where the fun fest is being held this year. Found myself hanging with the other teachers in the gym lobby, with them yelling at a few kids to take their hats off (they refused) and taunting them for seeing the same kids again from the school year.

Which is just cruel, really. If you didn't pass Spanish the first time with a teacher, you're stuck wtih them again? Bummer.

But once I got in the classrooms after straightening everything out tech wise(for some reason, I've been designated tech support. I know, right?) I discovered the kids were relatively well behaved. I mean yeah, there's the idiot in the corner that was with me last year for the same thing and isn't doing work, and then there's one to my right who's staring at the start up screen, but the kids around me are doing surprisingly well. Like, they want to get their shit done and go home.

But Really, Who's Prime Minister?

I feel like I have to write a really really long entry about elections over here, because it was the most amazing and exhausting experience I've had here. And yet the UK still has no definitive leader.

The whole mess started on Thursday morning. My alarm went off at 6:30 and I laughed at it and fell asleep for another half hour. When I did get up, I managed to get myself together and get down to Southend around 9 AM. And as soon as I dropped my bag off at the office, I was out at a polling stations telling (recording polling numbers so that the party can see who actually went to vote, and who didn't). Froze my ass off with a few other sort of rude Conservatives down in Southend.

When Dennis made it to the station, I was off to "knock up" doors (which sounds pretty wrong, but it's basically just knocking on doors to make sure they voted) for the next however long. Kevin and Chris and David Norman were off in the Labourmobile (the picture right here) with a loudspeaker on top, yelling at people to go vote - and sometimes to use better language when insulting the Labour party. I went back to Coleman Street to do more telling, ended up talking to this little kid who asked what language I was speaking. Clearly, he understood every word I was saying, but I just sounded different. Thought it was pretty funny.

The exciting part of the night was the count. Over here, they still do the paper ballots rather than the electronic votes that we do (or the crazy ones they do in Florida, which is probably for the best, to be honest), so they had to hand count every single vote in the constituency - the area has over 70,000 people in it, and that's just Rochford and Southend East. So before the count could even begin, they had to verify that all the votes were real, and that everyone agreed on how many there were. So the prelims for the counting started at 10 PM. The actual results didn't happen until 5 AM the next morning.

The bar upstairs was where a lot of the action was, and where all the comfortable warm chairs (the sports center was FREEZING) and alcohol were. It was also where the televisions were with Sky News (they have better election coverage than BBC) and the BBC were showing. Got to watch the whole country vote, got to see Ian more excited than I've ever seen him and almost smack Tim when they called Birmingham Edgbaston for Labour. That's also where we went to drown sorrows when Angela Smith lost her seat to the Conservatives.

The other responsibility was to watch the votes and make sure that they were all going in the right piles. Rob was pretty good at this one, he was watching this one table from Victoria like a hawk. When they finally did turn in the verdict, it was around 4:45 AM. James Duddridge won, to no one's surprise, and gave a nice speech. Kevin got second and made a very nice speech. They called the Southend West right after, and Tom got third place. And then we all went to sleep for like 4 hours before the local count (which unfortunately didn't go as well as hoped).

Turns out that Kevin won a spot on the council in Lewisham, though, so there you go.

Finals vs. Prime Minister

I was given a pretty easy choice around 10 PM last night. I could go to class this morning and take my British Comedy final, proctored by Mr. Bill, which consisted of watching a show and analyzing it for why it was funny. Or I could go to Basildon, wave a "Vote Labour" sign with a mob of excited supporters, and shake hands with Gordon Brown.

Naturally, I chose door #2 (not Number 10, although that would be awesome). I just had to manage to convince Bevan Jooooooones and Mr. Bill that I would make up my final and be back that afternoon to do so.

After a few frantic e-mails around 10:30ish, I decided to wake up early (7:30 AM) and go bother Bill when he got there at 8. I jumped around the front door a little until he strolled up to unlock at 8:10. I asked him, and he took a second to mumble, "Sure, yeah, have a good time."

My next order of business was to make it down to Basildon on time. Kevin said that I should get to Basildon station at 9:15, so that I could hitch a ride with him and Ian. The issue here is that Basildon is halfway to Southend - meaning it would take at least a half an hour to get there. Furthermore, it takes a half an hour to get to Fenchurch St, via Tower Hill. So essentially, I had to leave Fenchurch St. by 8:45 - meaning there had to be a train like as soon as I got there.

Clearly, the powers that be were smiling on me today and as soon as I got my ticket, I saw that there was a train leaving in 3 minutes to Shoeburyness (which I fortunately made it on to). Made it to the station literally at 9:14.

And the rest was rainy history. I made it to the office, got to hold up a "Vote Labour" sign and shake Gordon Brown's hand. We also got to yell at some Conservatives who showed up late to taunt him and get some press. Unfortunately for them, they showed up 20 minutes too late.

ETA: Am I the only one who thinks that Gordon Brown looks a little like Victor Garber?

The One Name Power Surge

I was checking my e-mail today (all of the addresses, as sad as that is) and I realized that my work e-mail is alex@southendlabour.com.

And for some reason, that just made me feel really important. I didn't need a last name, I didn't need anything more than "Alex." People would get e-mails from me and know who it was. And for some reason, that just made me feel really important. Maybe I'm easily flattered, but is that so wrong?

Indian Food: The Cure for the Common Cold

So the lesson of the day is to never let your cell phone die.

I planned on tripping down to Southend for the afternoon for some canvassing. So after a quick trip from Fenchurch St. to Southend East (faster than East Anglia, for sure. I am now a fan of c2c trains), I was ready to go. Problem was, my phone was dead and I couldn't call my boss.

So I went to the internet cafe near the station and looked up the number for the office. The people at the Christian Fellowship were obliging and let me use their phone (I should hope so, they're shit Christians if they didn't, right?), and when no one was there (duh, they were out canvassing), I decided to trek over to the office to pick up some stragglers. And 2 hours later, I found them.

We did some canvassing that night as well around town, but we didn't get too far because of the rain. Instead, we went with some phone canvassing (which didn't go well, from what it looked like with Rob) and then went for curry next door. Which took about 2 hours and was really good.

Fall Back, British Summer Ahead

Turns out that they do have time changes in Britain. I just didn't realize it because of the name.

Over here, when they "spring ahead" it's called British Summer Time, or Greenwich Daylight Savings Time. Apparently they started doing this in 1916 to save energy or what have you, just like we do in the good old US of A.

Problem is, I didn't realize this and ended up having to call the bosses to let them know that I was running an hour late for work. Ian got a pretty good laugh about it.

"There Are A Lot of Cocks in Southend"

I cannot tell you how difficult it is to keep a straight face when canvassing sometimes.

We were out and about in Kursaal yesterday door knocking and talking to everyone who was even thinking about voting, and we found a family house with about 4 people in it with the last name "Cock."

And it wasn't pronounced any weird way or whatever, it was just Cock.

Which is funny to anyone over the age of 12, including my boss (as well as he hides it).

Even funnier when we were in a different ward of Southend today (Milton) and there was another house of 4 with the last name "Cock." One of the houses that I was responsible for talking to. So I went up to the door and knocked, and as I waited for Mr. Cock to answer, I noticed that there were a bunch of roosters around the front. A key hanger, a name plate, all with roosters. Or cocks, if you will.

So as we were walking away and we noticed that there were 8 people with the last name Cock living in Southend, it was Kevin who remarked "Wow, there are a lot of cocks in Southend."

I love my job.

Best Gossip Ever

I've always wondered what profession had the best gossip. Whether it was construction men talking about what they did last night, lawyers talking about how hungover they were, et cetera.

It's teachers.

They know everyone's business, all the student criminals, all the people who are dating in their schools and who doesn't work and who does. Which makes me think two things:
1) They're awesome for your sleaze factor.
2) I never want to be a teacher.

For example, they were talking about how a fellow teacher accidentally showed porn to their Spanish class. And how she didn't know that was in it, because she got it from the library. And how the kids were screaming like crazy. And how all the teachers were laughing/shocked/scarred when they showed it around.

And how it wasn't an accident.

Two Students = Time For Pandora

Here at Conrad Schools of Science High School Summer School, we don't allow students to listen to headphones. It's a distraction, and it's against the rules.

That said, since there are only two students in the second class today (Mark and Shatir, who taught us how to "swag" and how to rap yesterday when the server was down), we allowed it. Which means I can Pandora the second half away.

Niiiiiiiiiice.

Sometimes, Jesus Is Not the Answer

It sort of pains me to make this entry. But it needed to be done, and I'm sure that the Lord will understand.

I was grading some of the submissions today when one caught my eye. The student who will remain nameless (because I can't remember who it was) put down the following answers for unrelated questions:

"Jesus."

"HI JESUS."

"Jeesssssssuuuusssssss."

"Jeessssssssuuuusssssss brown bag of Jeesssuuuusss."

I hate to tell people, because I as a Catholic have been taught from a young age that Jesus will always be the answer. And yeah, he comes in handy in tough situations. But on standardized tests? Jesus is not always the answer. Sorry, God.

The Midnight Train To GM

Don't get me wrong, I usually love trains and mass transit. I like watching them on bridges, I like being on them, they're generally pretty fun.

But when you're running late from work, the last thing you need is the Newport Gap Pike train to cross your path. And today, for the first time, it did.

Today as I was pulling through the intersection of Newport Gap Pike and Kirkwood Highway I was almost on time. Then I noticed that the train was there, and that a ton of people were turning around. Fair enough, I understand. I figured it would pass quickly.

It didn't, I was there for 20 minutes before I figured out an alternate route. I called the main office of Conrad repeatedly, and none of the calls were answered. It kept coming up with Andy Vincent's soothing voice directing me to dial the extention of my party, which...I didn't know.

I tried to go down 141 as well, thinking "Ha ha! I win!" until I realized when I got there that all routes to Conrad that I knew of were blocked by the same train. Now I realize the GM plant needs parts/needs parts shipped out to other places. That said? Not during rush hour on a busy road or 3!

The 30% Dance

You know I work at Kohl's.

What few of you know is that I rarely get good coupons despite my employment. So imagine my surprise today when I opened my mail to find a 30% coupon in the envelope. And my even bigger surprise when Dad also got a 30% coupon. And the even bigger (biggerer?) surprise that Mom didn't get one at all. So naturally Dad and I decided to do the right thing.

We decided to taunt Mom and booty dance at her with our coupons while she was on the phone.

She was not pleased.

Jamaicans Aren't African!

I kind of love my second class, just for this little quip:

Mark: Stop it, you African Bootie Scratcher!

Shatir: Jamaicans aren't African. Stupid.

Fiyah?

I've seen some pretty bold moves to get out of class, but I've never actually seen someone try to start a fire to get the alarm go off.

Now granted, I'm a fan of planned fire alarm tests interrupting my classes, if it's a slow boring class (or if it's Calculus and I'm about to fail a pop quiz. Sorry, Satalino). Sometimes a walk around the Charter football mudpit field is just what the doctor ordered to brighten up the morning.

But I never actually went to the length of trying to start a fire in class.

Annoying, But They Know Old Greg

I have to admit something. As annoying as it is when the summer school kids don't do their work and set their sights on annoying me and Jen (the other teacher)? They're pretty damn entertaining.

Today, for example, Shawn was admonishing his neighbor Danny for not only doing badly in class, but also for not knowing who Old Greg was. Something my biffle Brian would be pretty proud of.

Now if only they could pass high school.

"Maybe You're A Window Licker"

Ugh, summer school essays.

So the kid two down from me is having issues deciding what senses to talk about for his essay. He has to describe the smell of something ("I smelled his finger! Oh!") in traffic, and the following conversation ensued:

Ms. Short: Maybe you smell the burning gas.
John: It's Delaware, it always smells like burning gas.
Ms. Short: Well, yeah, but you're at an intersection in traffic, so you might smell that. And it doesn't just say "smell," you can use your other senses like taste.
John: I taste the window! Heh heh!
Ms. Short: I guess. Maybe you're a window licker. I don't know.

Schoooooool's Out...For...Summer?

Except for it's not.

As people are taking summer classes at UD (which I am not doing), going to the beach (which I am not doing), or laying at the pool getting a tan (which I am not capable of doing), I am here at Conrad Middle School, now the Conrad School for the Sciences.

Actually, right now it's Conrad Summer School, and I'm teaching Ed Options - sort of an online course for people who need to pass English.

Anyway, my job is to supervise and grade. And in the downtime from the answer key-based grading and yelling at people to work, I get to hang on the computer for 5 hours a day. Which got me thinking that I'm sort of over the internet at some points.

Most of the time is spent on BBC checking the news (I know, I know, I'm putting myself out of business). Then it's off to checking my e-mail a few (hundred) times. Then E!Online and EW to get the entertainment (entertaining?) news. Then I'm almost out of options, because everything good like Facebook, Twitter, Best Week Ever, Vh1, Pandora, YouTube, Sporcle and other wonderful time wasters are blocked. It really only leaves me 3 options: Blogger, LOLDogs, or Overheard Everywhere (haven't tried Texts from Last Night, but I imagine it'll be blocked). So I decided to bring a book.

Is "Are You There Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea" inappropriate? (For sure, read it!)

Oh, one more funny nugget from school today:
"Who grades my stuff?" - Sean
"God." - Me
"Damn, I'm going to flunk." - Sean