Dear Dear Diary
Thursday, June 15, 2006
 
OT/

There' a lot of hard things out there that I've tried, and just can't find it in me to do.

I tried teaching. I worked for a while on an MAT (English), but when I student taught, the experience was altogether terrible. Teachers are hamstrung by the board, by the requirements, by the bad parents, and by the students themselves. The students aren't there to learn most of the time and don't understand why the subjects are covered. Sometimes the teacher doesn't know why subjects are being covered. And so many important things are cut from the curricula to dumb it down from what was skipped when they were younger. I know my class was among the last to learn to diagram sentences- my teacher explained that she wasn't allowed to teach it any more. I know I didn't know the names of parts of speech beyond noun, verb, adjective and adverb or what the conjugations of verbs were called until I took foreign languages, Schoolhouse Rock aside. There are supposed to be 8. I can name six if I try- conjunctions and prepositions are the other two...

I did kindasorta parent for a while. Very tough job but can be rewarding. My niece, who is the closest I'll likely ever come to a daughter, graduated college last May and is now working in summer stock theater- something I never had the guts to try. I'm excessively proud of her. I feel like a nasty person when I scrunch my nose up at that disruptive child and their inattentive parent- I have no right to judge, really, but I'd like to think I'd do better than that! But I feel weird when someone talks about their kids and grandkids around me, because I can only talk about the cats or the dog, and that's not the same thing, really.

And caring for the animals- oh my heart breaks still. I think about Buffy- the white cat declawed and de-fanged and absolutely ferocious with anyone not her owner but the owner died and Buffy came to us. I think about poor Cinnamon who had 28 puppies- she pushed out 4 in the first 48 hours and they died before we could help them, and Wilbur who was puppy #5 to be pushed out of the puppy nest. I had tried to help and bottle raise him, but I didn't know about the warm washcloth thing, and my ignorance killed him. All of Cinnamon's puppies found homes, but poor Cinnamon did not. I remember loading frozen cats wrapped in trashbags, tossing like frizbees onto the big truck to travel to another humane society that had a crematorium. How much of that can anyone take?

I did what I could, and I give when I can, but my heart really goes out to anyone who helps. They are real heroes to me.
 
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This rather schizophrenic blog was started as a fictional blog, written by a character of a story. I've since taken it over for writing personal stuff I don't mind sharing with anyone who cares. I am also writing thoughts about writing and stories that move me.


Other places I go:
Georg's Research
Help local kitties
I have relatives. Be afraid
Blessed is the One True Tami
Tata the Bodacious
Obligatory Yarn Harlot
It is impossible not to love Sandi Wiseheart once you've met her
The Tsarina
Holiday Yarns
Habetrot
I like the name Twiggi
Who to blame for my sock addiction
Maybe the cleverest blog title
Romancing the Yarn
Why I read Romancing the Yarn
Get an ab work out with laughter
My Kitty Obsession
Kittehs
You meet the nicest people playing video games
I'm such a fanboi
Rabbitch
One of my stalker targets
The other stalkee
I just love Josh (the cat)
Josh the Cat and friends
Pet politics
Pet Care
If I were a sheep, I'd be Delores
I live here now
Not Your Mama's Crafters
Make a Lily Pad


Anything not marked might be just me, Georg, posting as myself.

It's just this blog, okay? Some of it is story. Some of it is animals. Some of it is knitting. It's a blog.

For story #1, I do recommend starting from the beginning of this blog if you haven't read this before. Please start at the beginning.

I did mean it to be for http://www.nanowrimo.org - but I never got quite got it done under the wire.

CAST:
Jeannie is the author/main character.
Frank is her husband. Poor man.
Tony is musician/singer.
Angie is a teenager, who was Jeannie's best friend. Now currently dead.
Honestly, there is no connection between Jeannie and me and Frank and my husband.

Story #2
Frank and Ether. This will be much weirder than Frank and Jeannie. I like the name Frank. No one expects a Frank to lie.

Story #3
A desert story. Anna is the main character. Currently there is only her little brother and an old servant, and a mysterious redhead.

Story #4
The necro story. A young necromancer heads off to the Hated Ones to find her trousseau.

Story X
Reserving this for one-offs, poems, etc.


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Marriage is love.

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