Tiny Self Loathing Monday.

You brought this upon yourself, you know.
With your stupid SAD and your maniac female hormones
with your imaginary expectations
and your idiotic smiles.

You brought this upon yourself,
with all the words you have to say
and all the YOU that you need to be.

I wish I could be someone else
someone who doesn't feel all the time
someone who can casually think about football.

I'm so fucking mad at myself.
Get a grip.
We will not go on like this. You hear me?
I refuse to live like this.
I will not live like this again.

I won't. Not even for a day.

I Quit. (Almost).

I'm done. I quit.
I've had it with schools that insist on having wonderful textbooks that I have to cover in only weeks.

WEEKS PEOPLE!

WEEKS

I'm done trying to teach the past  and present perfect, simple and continous in 4 days.

This is ridiculous.

But mark my words.
The day will come when I will freaking choose my own textbooks and I WON'T tell other teachers how much they have to cover in 4 weeks.

And if I ever do.
That will be the day
When I will lose all my good luck.

In the end.

I should have been a guy.
I would have been a great guy.
People would meet me and then say " Hey, Have you Met Natalio? He's a great guy! Isn't he?"

But I'm not. I'm a woman.

It's mostly cool. It has its advantages.
But somedays...
Like today
I'm done with it. I'm done.

I swear that,  today , I've been through all the possible human emotions ever named.
And some other that have not yet been named.

I read your messages,
They make me happy, then they make me mad.
They make me feel excited, then they make me feel scared.
I think about it.
I'm cool with it. I'm cool. I'm pleased. I'm relaxed.
No I'm not. I'm upset. I'm raging mad.
Now I'm hopeful. I'm glad.
Next I'm guilty. I'm sorry. I'm off-track.
I'm back. I'm relieved. I'm dignified.

But in the end.
I'm just miserable.

I miss you miserably instead.
That's all there is. This is it.

And I can't have that.
It's Sunday and I can't have all of these inide me at the same time.

Sneezing Worries

You should never sneeze
while holding a pen in your mouth
You should never do it because it hurts a lot
and people will give you disapproving looks
of you you managed to spread your virus and bacteria
not only to the front but also sideways

But if you ever do sneeze
while holding a pen in your mouth
I suggest you laugh about it
And take a second to wonder
exactly what you're so worried about

Perhaps something so ridiculous
will be a useful solution
when you need to realize
how ridiculous all your worries are.

Tópicos

I know the day will come
What is taught
will only be
what one is taught to choose

There won't be anymore vocabulary lessons
or grammar misconceptions

I'll teach students how to write.

A strong topic sentence
Which they will underline

And if I'm lucky maybe I'll find a way to stop them from writing all of their sentences like this one because it's important for them to avoid run-on sentences because run-on sentences are very hard for the reader to understand and I wonder how come they have never noticed that you can't write sentences like this one in real life, maybe it's because they think that no one will ever read whatever it is that they wrote.

Maybe it's just that they're not reading enough.

Hell, I'll do that too!  I'll make them read. And then we'll have a class discussion . Then we'll probably an essay about it. And finally, if all goes well, we'll find some kind of lecture, in which the same topic is discussed.

Seriously. That's all I really need.

I also want to take this moment to thank all my English teachers in High School.
I might not remember your names, but I remember your faces. I remember the tone of your voice and those little notes that you wrote on my research papers, essays and reports.
The same notes I write on my students essays now...

I remember Melissa Mc. Coy who didn't get mad at me when I confessed that I hadn't read the book that she assigned. I said that it would be a waste of time for both of us if I tried to answer the exam. She said "Thank you for being honest".  Those words echo in my mind at various random times.

I remember that one teacher with curly hair who would climb up on his chair and whistle really loud to get everyone to stop talking and sit down. I remember that he gave me a 90 instead of a 100 on my speech because I forgot the "realia" for it in my backpack. I had to stop talking to get it.
It was a toothbrush. I remember it clearly.
And never since that day, have I forgotten something in my backpack.

I remember that other teacher who was 1/4 Native American who couldn't pronounce Alejandro Suro's name. She said that my research paper was so well written that it had to be plagiarized.
But it wasn't.
I was offended at that time. Now I can see that's one of the best compliments anyone has ever given me in my life.

I remember that one teacher who was new. We were in the last semester. She thought that asking us to write a research paper every week was a perfectly normal thing to do. I clearly remember how surprised she was when she got the first batch. She said, "Do you always write like this? I was just expecting a short opinion about the topic we discussed".
And we all proudly said "This is how they taught us how to write. This is what a research paper should look like."
Then she asked us to write a commentary every week.
And things worked really well between us afterwards.
She even drew a picture of Enrique Iglesias on my paper once.

But most of all,  I want to thank Nico.

Nico was the first American teacher I ever had. He sat on the desk, He cursed in class.He let us come in late. He let us get out early. It seemed that he was a living monument to everything easy-going.
But then one day he said, "Let's see if you can write."

It was a massacre.

And from then on he knew what he had to do.
He did it well, no doubt.

You all did.
You will never know how much I appreciate you.
Thank You.

My new pet

Meet my new pet

I'm calling him
----------unemotional regret
It's not a goat
It's not a toad
It's just that feeling
----------down your throat

It's void, blank and empty
It's nothing and it's all

It's automatic
Semi-static
Self concious
and
Pristine

It's ecstatic
----------half the time
but at night
----------it always cries

Well,  have I got no soul? He says
No. You changed it for control.

See, souls are way too unstable
Unreliable and brusque
We need a pet who's able
To gain everyone's trust

Something like
An eagle
------A donut
-------------or a car!

Something that in pictures
is impressive to the eye

Something that you touch
you slap or beat or knock

Something that's so real
that needs no questions asked

Meet my new pet
my deepest apprehension
forgetfulness of terror
The spirit of outrage

I need to feel
existance and frustration

I need to fear
silence condonation

I need to know
that I have a soul

I need some proof
that this is true

Meet my new pet
He's nearly dead

A few days should suffice
Then I'll put him on some ice

I'll shiver through
I'll feel all blue

I'll give my life for you