Ms. Miley's algebra tool box.
The nice thing about this SAT teaching job is that once in a while I get paid twenty-eight bucks an hour to sit on my ass and do what I want. In this case, to blog. So yeah, I am currently in room B56 of Brandeis Hillel Jewish school, connected to the BHS wireless network while my "class" takes their diagnostic test. It's actually an SSAT class, the SSAT being the admissions test that middle schoolers take to get into private high school. Philosophically, this is not the kind of thing that I can get behind in any way. Plus, these kids are a nightmare. Even as I write this, they are doing everything within their power to fuck with me. Right now the game is to make as much noise as you can get away with. And yes, it's such a fun little game: Max Gavrish releases a hilariously audible cough and a few moments later Ben Porter follows his lead. Within a minute, everyone has had a go and let me tell you: it is all so fucking funny. The dilemma of teaching kids at this level is that there is absolutely no way to express to them how thoroughly unfunny and uncool they are. Yet they are kind of sweetly naive; after class they will amiably ask me if I voted, completely unaware that while they speak I will be fantasizing about altering the structure of their budding little bodies with large heavy objects.
Speaking of the SAT, there was one on Saturday and so last week was very hectic. I was tutoring till ten almost every night. I tutored the football player who lives on top of the hill, the nerdy girl who lives in the comically undecorated mansion, the short girl with the weird-looking dogs, the gawky guy who lives in a Tenderloin motel, and the well mannered shell of a kid that I helped get admitted to Princeton--he's home on break and back for more.
And this weekend I hung out...with people! Saturday afternoon, I was reintroduced to my bicycle, which has been sitting in the studio since the art show two weeks ago. I finally feel healthy enough to ride so Jill and I met up at the Golden Gate Park panhandle and we took our usual trek to the ocean and back. Other than the fact that the pomegranate juice costs $4.99, Golden Gate Park on the weekend closely resembles my conception of the Garden of Eden. The grass is impossibly green and the sunlight always finds a way to bleed through the leaves of the misty trees. That night I returned to the Ocean for a bonfire at the beach. Ocean Beach bonfires are something that I have heard a lot about but that I have never seen. Ours was modest but successful. A few Exploratorium people were there and about seven of us sat around the flames drinking beer and vodka until our wood supply dwindled to nothing. Down at the water, all the evening fires flickered in the distance while the waves quietly washed over the sand. It was really quite beautiful. It made me want to come to the beach at night more often.
I returned to the Park on Sunday morning for softball practice, which was practice only in the same way that an infant stumbling around on the floor is practicing to walk. It was wet and muddy and we mainly just threw balls around and did a little hitting. I surprised myself by not being able to throw a softball that far at all. My hitting is pretty shitty too. Don't ask me what exactly we are practicing for, but maybe one day in the future there will be talk about an Exploratorium team. And machines will take over the United States. Afterwards, Nowell floundered his way to the park entrance and we did a little Amoeba run, which got predictably out of hand. Well, more so for Nowell than for me. But getting out of hand is what's great about Amoeba.
A few days ago I got my STD test results back:
Chlamydia Trachomatis........negative
N. Gonorrhoeae......................negative
Hep A Total Aby....................negative
Heb B Sur Ab..........................positive
Anti-Hep C Ab.......................negative
Syphilis RPR...........................non reactive
Don't be alarmed, "Hep B SUr Ab" is an assay that tests Hep B vaccination. And I've got it. As for HIV, I never called the nurse back. I guess I should do that some time soon.
Speaking of the SAT, there was one on Saturday and so last week was very hectic. I was tutoring till ten almost every night. I tutored the football player who lives on top of the hill, the nerdy girl who lives in the comically undecorated mansion, the short girl with the weird-looking dogs, the gawky guy who lives in a Tenderloin motel, and the well mannered shell of a kid that I helped get admitted to Princeton--he's home on break and back for more.
And this weekend I hung out...with people! Saturday afternoon, I was reintroduced to my bicycle, which has been sitting in the studio since the art show two weeks ago. I finally feel healthy enough to ride so Jill and I met up at the Golden Gate Park panhandle and we took our usual trek to the ocean and back. Other than the fact that the pomegranate juice costs $4.99, Golden Gate Park on the weekend closely resembles my conception of the Garden of Eden. The grass is impossibly green and the sunlight always finds a way to bleed through the leaves of the misty trees. That night I returned to the Ocean for a bonfire at the beach. Ocean Beach bonfires are something that I have heard a lot about but that I have never seen. Ours was modest but successful. A few Exploratorium people were there and about seven of us sat around the flames drinking beer and vodka until our wood supply dwindled to nothing. Down at the water, all the evening fires flickered in the distance while the waves quietly washed over the sand. It was really quite beautiful. It made me want to come to the beach at night more often.
I returned to the Park on Sunday morning for softball practice, which was practice only in the same way that an infant stumbling around on the floor is practicing to walk. It was wet and muddy and we mainly just threw balls around and did a little hitting. I surprised myself by not being able to throw a softball that far at all. My hitting is pretty shitty too. Don't ask me what exactly we are practicing for, but maybe one day in the future there will be talk about an Exploratorium team. And machines will take over the United States. Afterwards, Nowell floundered his way to the park entrance and we did a little Amoeba run, which got predictably out of hand. Well, more so for Nowell than for me. But getting out of hand is what's great about Amoeba.
A few days ago I got my STD test results back:
Chlamydia Trachomatis........negative
N. Gonorrhoeae......................negative
Hep A Total Aby....................negative
Heb B Sur Ab..........................positive
Anti-Hep C Ab.......................negative
Syphilis RPR...........................non reactive
Don't be alarmed, "Hep B SUr Ab" is an assay that tests Hep B vaccination. And I've got it. As for HIV, I never called the nurse back. I guess I should do that some time soon.
posted by Jon at 4:51 PM
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