smell ya later

One day and one final meeting left in summer school. We have the more challenging rhetorical analyses behind us, and now we're looking at cover letters and resumes. Which, as I say about a million times, is probably one of the most pieces of rhetoric we'll all craft in our lives. Especially now, since my contract runs out in eleven months ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ah ha, ahh.

Ahem.

I like--no, scratch that, I love--teaching cover letters and resumes. Maybe it's because no one really took me through the intricacies of R/CLs when I was an undergrad; maybe it's because the students, desperate to land employment, are always interested; maybe because I like talking about fonts. Either way, it's such a nice way to send them out into the rest of their lives.

I'll miss this group of students. We had only six weeks together, but they were pleasant and engaged and bright. For a summer night class, they rocked. And after the dismal piece of shit that was my spring semester class, this class was a cappuccino Heath Blizzard chased with a beer margarita while sitting on the beach on a breezy eighty-degree day. They were awesome. They reminded me why I love to teach. They were the horse I climbed back on.

I ... I think I will refrain from mentioning to them that I thought of them as a horse. That I rode.

We say goodbye to each other on Tuesday night, and then I calculate grades on Wednesday, and then I enter grades, and then I get onto a plane and fly away.

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In honor of Jeano's shirt that reads Hit the books, not the pipe, I am going to make one that reads Hit the books, not your wife. Women lib groups might howl, but they got nothing to worry about! Literacy will increase while domestic violence decreases.

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This is the summer of roadtrips: last week to Minnesota via Green Bay. Next week to the beach via Philly. Next month to Duluth via the Yoop. The month after, the Adirondacks via Flint and St Catherines and Buffalo. Camry, hang in there.

I saw some of my favorite Midwesterners this past week, and there was a little puppy that traveled with us. I also played Scrabble, and drank thoroughly average beer, and ate fantastic pancakes, and helped wrangle eighth graders, and made fun of the town of Hutchinson, Minnesota. We were there when Jeano interviewed for a new job and we were there when she was offered the job less than twenty-four hours later. We also ate at a Chinese restaurant that wasn't sure if it was a tiki bar or an ode to pheasant hunting, and we spent time (possibly while drinking) watching old movies of ourselves (in which we were definitely drinking).

Photos to follow. Still, it is nice to be home with my dog and my bolted cilantro.

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HEY! PHOTOS! The blog doesn't lie.