tuckova

So one of the things I was afraid of happening if I returned to
teaching? Happened. I was teaching a
lesson about politics, as one of the things the students are expected
to do is discuss the political systems of the US and UK and compare
them to the Czech Republic. Which I’m sure you agree is a perfectly
reasonable thing to expect 18 year old students to do in another
language. ANYWAY. So there we were, and this one girl is slouched back
in her chair so I went over to see if she was confused or what exactly,
and she asks, "How much longer are we going to do this?" Well, I say, I
thought we’d do it until it was finished. Why, do you have a hot date
or something? "No," she answers, "but this is boring."

Ah. So I say entirely pleasantly that I’m sorry she finds it so but it is a required
topic. Later in the class she was talking and the other students hissed
at her to be quiet but she wasn’t. Alrighty then. She had the quiet
attention, she had the peer attention, she apparently needed more. So,
you know, I gave her the full force of my level-eyed
disappointment. I’m unpleasant when I’m angry but I’m apparently
downright scary when I’m disappointed. She came up after class to
apologize. I’m sorry to have had to do it, but I’m glad I remembered
how. And that it’s done now, so I don’t have to dread it.

Over the weekend I turned out to not be quite so sick as I’d
expected, so I washed windows and sewed some new curtains for the
living room, and made some exceptionally pretty shelf coverings out of
this fabric I bought a year ago because it reminded me of Klimt, but it
was too stiff to work with as I’d wanted to. Friar hasn’t noticed any
of these things yet; another advantage to him is that all aesthetic
decisions are made to please me and possibly the young Squire. It’s
like living alone, except with a place to warm my feet at night.
Oh, I’m kidding, calm down.

Mistrust all institutions that require new clothing. I ordered a dress
from the internets because I had a craving for something pretty to wear
and couldn’t stomach going out to try things on; also the shipping
costs are blahblah– I don’t know, I bought a dress. I’m not gonna
apologize for my motives. I attempted to branch out colorwise and went
with "eggplant" instead of "burgandy" or "black". I expected a dark
bruise-y purple, but it turned out to be a purple I associate more with
Easter eggs than eggplants, very pale and ladylike. SIGH.  I know that
I am not yet ready to tackle sleeves, but think perhaps I will try to
make a skirt, since it cannot be that much harder than making curtains
and it cannot be a more bizarre-for-me color than this dress. A skirt
of leftover curtains, perhaps! Like Scarlett O’Hara only less so.