dogged siren ears inside my televsion

I'm finishing strong! My sophomore communications students are very grateful that I'm teaching them Ayn Rand's Anthem, and I'm prooving something to boot. Someone's placement in school does not determine their intellectual capacity. They are fully capable of grasping highbrow philosophy as long as it is written on a level they could absorb and is taught in a way that can be understood. Sure, there are constant disruptions and bizarre questions daily (and we've read about twelve pages in three days), but they're getting it! Mission accomplished! I can confidently say that my goal has at least been partially acheived (my goal being proving to myself, the students, and the school that the students I'm actively teaching are fully capable of greatness). Ayn would be proud--she might even write a non-fiction piece about it!

We shall see where this goes as we move towards the deeper philosophy of hte novel. Right now, they are maybe just captivated by the idea of a world where they would be king shits (meaning king of the hill).

In other funny school news, I learned that "meathouse" means "pussy". Like pussy in the female anatomy sense. I've said the word about thirty five times and have even taken to nicknaming a student "meathouse". Better that I know. Friday was a really nice day. I almost had another "kick out of class" disaster, but I avoided it, and the class enjoyed the Fallen Angels reading/discussion that focused almost solely on Perry's case of the shits. The language is so foul in that book. Worse than any book I've ever taught. For a short portion of the class, I agreed that we could replace all the bad words with "meathouse" which gave one student the opportunity to say "I'm going to kick you in the meathouse" much to the aplomb of all the street-smart students that knew its real meaning.

And in Japan news:

1. I've told Mom. She didn't have much to say about it. She was suprised and warned me that I need to plan more this time than I did last time. Good advice! I didn't really want to hear it because it sucks to be given advice that is obvious, but I concur with my sweet mother. And that's what mothers are for, right.

2. I told Dad. Via e-mail. This was slightly more awkward, but I think he realizes that he can't do a whole lot about it. Big Mike doesn't want me to go, and he will surely let me know when I speak with him in person, but as Betsy said, "he doesn't get it and he'll never get it."

3. Things have worked out with apartment plans--tentatively. Betsy and I have to meet with Maria tomorrow. We'll see if Betsy is moving or staying. She's being very kind to offer me a free place to live in July if she ends up moving.

4. I'm officially excited as fuck! Fucking stoked, man! A discussion of drunken karaoke stories on ithinkimlost.com inspired me. While driving home from work singing "Relax, don't do it... when you want to sock it to it... Relax, don't do it... when you wanna COME!" I realized, "hey, I'll be singing this to a crowd of admirers in less than one hundred days. They will all worship me as the karaoke god that I am. Shit is going to go down! And it will be glorious.

5. I'm learning a significant amount of Japanese, though I obviously suck (I really should have been learning all along! Curses!) This week was very productive and I found that my goal of at least five hours per week will be efficient. I simply can't fall off the wagon and resort to laziness.

I don't think I will. My television no longer gets the fourteen or so cable channels that it once received. It gets about four now. For most, this would mean watching shitty inferior television. For me, it means watching better television, oddly. No more Judge Mathis, Telemundo soap operas, and public access. Now I'm watching hour long dramas on the big three networks. My brain is rejecting it all!

Ah, my guitar practice and class participation has been quite lackluster.

I'm feeling a bit out of sorts today. Maybe I need to get a drink or something. There have been a lot of yapping dogs and blasted ambulance sirens outside Swim Cafe. I've been here a while and wish I could stay all afternoon. Things are nice and pleasant here.

Tonight is a party at Spaghetti-Ohs. It's her birthday, so I think I'm going to get her a can of her signature food. Elena has a Wisconsinite friend in town that I'm quite interested in seeing again. We hit it off quite well at Pitchfork last year when we both had significant others. Some sort of pre-departure romance would be nice.

In Fallen Angels Perry keeps wishing he had a girlfriend back home that he could miss. I remember this feeling distinctly when I was in France. I sort of made up people that I missed back home--and I did miss them, but it was all very over-dramatic. I hope this time I could miss someone for real, and I hope that she might miss me also.

Everything feels perfectly in place today save my poor brain that is all bouncing off the walls. I blame the ceiling fans.