Choosing Students

My boss finally decided to hire a new foreign teacher. Thank goodness. Not complaining here but handling all 150 students in a week, for 6 hours everyday, is probably like having sex with an NFL team on a weekly basis. (I dunno why I made that analogy. I just thought of that.) I am terribly exhausted at the end of each class and often wonder if I'd be able to work again the following day.

And since I can now consider myself a senior teacher, I have the option of choosing which class to handle for the homeroom.

Should I choose the parrot like students?

Me: Class, repeat after me.

Class: Class, repeat after me.

Me: Read from the top.

Class: Read from the top.

Or the smart assess who never fail to give me a migraine.

Me: (Reading from the book) And Herman Cortes, the conquistador, after coming back from Mexico, presented the King of Spain with the cacao seeds from the Mayans and that started the popularity of chocolate in Europe.

Smart Ass 1: Why Cortes give King only chocolate?

Me: Maybe because the King likes chocolates?

Smart Ass 2: Kings don't like chocolates.

Me: How did you know that? Do you know any king who hates chocolate?

Smart Ass 2: No teacher. Do you?

Me: (Silently prayed, God grant me the serenity...)

Smart Ass 3: Why Cortes not give King gold?

Smart Ass 4: Yes, teacher. Why no necklace?

Smart Ass 5: I'm Cortes, I give King gold watch.

Me: (On the verge of hysteria) Perhaps Cortes also brought with him some gold and jewelries. But we are talking about the origin of chocolate here that's why the other gifts are not mentioned.

Smart Ass 6: Maybe Cortes is poor.

Me: Whatever! Can you guys just please google the answers to your other questions? That's your homework! (Continued her prayers)

I forgot, the smart-asses' parents personally requested ME to handle the Elite Class, as they don't trust the new teacher (whom they haven't even met yet).

Guess I have not much choice huh?

Teacher Wears That-Can't-Be-Named

Yesterday, I noticed the students fall into deathly mutterings whenever I write something on the whiteboard. The Elite class (they are smart-asses for a reason, believe me) are not usually like that : me turning around means the chance to check the celphones; another turn on the Rubik's cube; finish the homework, etcetera. However, for no particular reason at all, they were very animated with their convos. I caught glimpses of the murmurings.

She is not... She is!... Can you see it?... Can't!... Can you?... Gross!... Why don't you ask her?... I don't want to... You do it... Shhh... she's done writing...

*Silence*

Me: Okay, so what is going on here?

Sara: Teacher, Diane has a question.

(Because Diane is the youngest, she's always obliged to speak for the whole group, especially if it's one of them really important issues, that has to be discussed with Teacher.)

Me: Yes, Diane?

Diane: Teacher... teacher... you not angry?

Me: Why? What have you done this time?

Diane: Nothing!

Me: So what is the problem?

Diane: Teacher, you wearing white pants.

Me: Of course! It's summer!

Diane: But teacher you no panties!

At this point, I noticed everyone suppressing everything: from laughing to giggling to burfing to farting. Each was hanging on to what I was gonna say next.

Me: What? What did you say Diane?

Diane: You no panty?

Me: Of course I am wearing one but you can't see it because it's a thong!

Diane: What's a thong?

Me: You know, this is so absurd. Do you have any better questions Diane?

Diane: Teacher you sure you wear panty?

Me: (Already plotting a glamorous way of getting rid of this arrogant elf) Of course, I am! You want to see them?

Class: (Shrieking at the same time) Nooooooooooooo!!! Please, please teacher nooooo!!! She's so gross! Teacher's bad! Bad teacher!

Me: That's it! Diane, you stay after the class! I'm going to call your mom!

Diane: (Giving me her sweetest devil-ish grin) Teacher, you like chocolate? I give you Hersheys!

Of course, teacher was pacified and ate all Diane's Hersheys. Class was dismissed with them still wondering what a thong is. Poor little kids. I'm going to bring my green one to show them this Monday.

Yay!

The Future Rock Star

Two nights ago while talking to the son, he suddenly said he's going to play something for me. He mentioned something like "I know these are some of your favorites".

I was very surprised to hear him strum "In The End" and "Faint"* by Linkin Park.

I almost choked in pride. Actually, I cried in the bus. When the son asked me if I like it, I told him that I love it soooo much. I imagined him grin from ear-to-ear, something he does when he's extremely pleased with himself.

I can not believe my ears that the ten year-old boy I left home three years ago, can now play something real other than the first few lines of REM's "The One I Love", which was a favorite when he was about five.

It's too bad that my celphone doesn't have a record feature. It would have been great to share with you guys the very reason why I am slaving myself away here in Korea.

He's growing up fast and I am missing terribly the important years of his life. But it's all worth it... we will be together soon and... I am going to be a future Rockstar Mom. That I am very sure.

*I searched in youtube a similar acoustic intro version of that song. More or less, the son played the intro part like this.

**Sniff**

I Did Something Bad Today

I was getting late earlier and I have no time to iron my dress, so I decided to hang it inside the bathroom to steam it. I turned the shower on, closed the door and went to prepare my breakfast.

After breakfast, I realized it's almost time to take a bath. When I opened the door, a great cloud of steam came out. I saw my dress' creases disappeared like it was ironed. Ha! Great. I prepared the rest of my outfit and was laying them on the bed, when the fire alarm blasted. The steam coming out of the toilet activated the smoke detector.

Panicking, I opened the windows to let the steam out, totally ignoring the freezing weather outside. The alarm kept ringing. The noise was defeaning so I opened the main door and saw that the rest of my neighbors were hurrying out of their rooms. I knew that I was the culprit but I ran out with my co-tenants downstairs. Should I remain in my room and evoke suspicion? Nah! I watch too many CSI shows you know.

Everyone was wondering what could have triggered the alarm. Of course, dare I admit it? I acted as though I knew nothing. And since am the hooligan who started the chaos, I kept to myself and prayed that the alarm would stop. I was already running late, not to mention, scared to my balls that the landlord would arrive soon to check on us.

I showered in record time, dressed up and hurried to school.

As I was starting my first class, the landlord called. Because am really guilty, I could not bring myself to fully comprehend what he's saying. I told him to call my friend, whom I already confessed to the little crime I did on the way to school (and I am pretty sure my friend will never tell on me). Apparently, the landlord was only wanting permission to get inside my room to check the alarm. As there was really no fire, he wondered obsessively what could have started the early morning hullabaloo.

I swear, I will never steam my dress again. Ever.

On second thought, I will remind myself to ducktape the smoke detector. Yay!!!

Yes...

I will marry you

here

and

in

the after life

not

just once

but

for as many times

as you want me to...

Originally posted here...