Trip Report: :::ahem::: Let's just say 'unchanged' and leave it at that. };->
Listening to:
Weathered Creed. O.k. The damn thing is growing on me, especially tracks 6 -11. I guess I shouldn't have read the lyrics before I listened to it. Great lyrics ~ the music just doesn't match them, in my opinion.
Wish The Cure. Am I ever going to get tired of this CD?
Wishing I could listen to:
Destroyer, KISS. (I had the thing in my hand this morning, what did I do with it??) Proud member of the Kiss Army since 1977, thanks to Sissy Borders bringing her brother's copy of 'Calling Dr. Love' to the third grade to play during nap time. Is it any wonder I turned out the way I did?? (:::_insert evil cackle here_:::)
The Divynals Another one that I've misplaced. ARRGGHH!!!
Wow...They found that girl that has fascinated the world since her photo made the cover of National Geographic seventeen years ago. Who could forget those incredible eyes ~ a person could lose themselves in them. She is only a few years younger than me and I can't begin to imagine the hard life she has led.
I got out of class today and went to an all day writing workshop on campus. I wasn't that impressed with the breakout group I ended up in. I thought it would be like other workshops I have participated in, like Batya's at the Bluebird or Cynthia's at SHA. Those were a lot more 'hands on,' with tons of creativity exercises and ways to get around nasties like writer's block. I figured I was in trouble when I fazed out while the first person answered the first question. It was partially the same thing as always ~ that 75% of my mind that is visually oriented vs. the 25% that's aurally oriented...plus I just don't care to sit around and talk about doing something. Why not just do it?
One other thing was the lady who led the group. As I told my English Comp instructor, I'm sure she is a very nice lady but that group could've been so much better. It was proof, in my mind, that a person can have that piece of paper saying that they did all the work to be a teacher but that does not automatically mean that they have what it takes to be in the classroom. There's just something about this woman that doesn't sit well with me. She may very well care about what she teaches but I think that it is the fact that everything I have heard her say in a classroom sounds so...practiced. Where is the passion for the subject? If the instructor isn't passionate about the subject, why should the students be?
Maybe it's just me but education should not be boring, whether it's for a day or a semester. That has quickly become a pet peeve ~ and I don't care who knows it. Bore me and risk earning my ire. I think I may have demonstrated that after the workshop was over and I never said that tact was a strong point with me. I bluntly told my English Comp instructor that he should have led the group and it would have been far more interesting! There's no mistaking the fact that he cares about words, language and the craft of writing. The world needs more people who give a damn!
(Good lord! Boo sure has a strange way of asking me to pet her ~ five claws slammed into my side. Maybe I should have named her the Marquess de Sade.)
Which brings me to the question: what do I want to be when I pretend to grow up? My first gut reaction is to say, "Everything!" (Well, maybe not everything. Can you see me as a CPA? I'd have so many numbers mixed up, people would go to jail just to get away from my bad math skills.) Perhaps I should say, "Anything with passion." My best drawings always involve being passionate about the subject, whether it is a tree, cat or person (although with the right person, there may be quite a bit of lust in there as well. Heheheh)
I still feel that nebulous feeling that I should be teaching...something...but I just haven't found it yet. What I do know is that it is not in the halls of academia. I feel that it more like the ancestral 'sitting around the teaching fire' but it's kind of hard to do that when you don't have a clue about what the subject matter is. I'm also getting the urge to pick up my esoteric studies again ~ but not wicca. Definitely not wicca. Gag me with a silver spoon wearing rose colored glasses. Bleh.
Alright (or as the Count said on Greg the Bunny, "Ah ig it.") I'm tired of sitting at this damn computer. I still feel as if I have a ton to say but it'll have to wait. I'm beat. Literally. Blame the Marquess.
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