February 23: Another Unaccountably Good Mood, Fooling Students, Project Memoir

I'm in another unaccountably good mood.  That makes two in one week.  I don't know what's going on.  Usually, I'm not this positive of a person.  Ask anyone who knows me.  If you walked up to one of my best friends and said, "Give me one adjective to describe Saint Marty," my friend may come up with several possibilities.  Loyal.  Funny.  Dark.  Twisted.  Creative.  Loving.  I could go on, but I can guarantee you that positive would not be one of my friend's adjectives.  But, here I sit, good mood and all.

I'm just faking it...

It's the end of another week of teaching.  I've fooled my students again.  They still think I know what the hell I'm talking about.  It's a terrible thing, sometimes, to always feel like a fraud.  The longer I've taught college-level writing and literature (and I've been at it for more than half of my adult life), the more I've realized that I don't know anything.  It's not an uncommon to feel this way, I think.  If you surveyed a lot of college professors (the real ones--the adjuncts--who teach all the crap courses), I'd bet a majority of them would make a confession similar to the one I just made.  This streak of low self-esteem keeps me on my toes as an instructor.  I always have more I can learn.

If you're wondering about Project Memoir, I can tell you that I plan to start writing my first chapter tonight.  I just have to cull through the material I have already written in my journals.  There should be a lot of writing from which to draw.  If I'm going to get a chapter finished by Sunday, however, I really need to get my ass in gear.  That's one of my projects for tonight.

Lent is breathing down Saint Marty's neck.

January 18: "American Idol," Daddy/Daughter Night

I miss Simon...

It has been a pretty long day.  Long day of work.  Long day of teaching.  Long day of staying awake.  I'm a little tired tonight.  Actually, I'm more than a little tired tonight.  I'm sitting in my living room, watching the first episode of this season's American Idol.  It's a daddy/daughter thing.  We both love the show.  We love the good singers, but we also love the really, really bad ones, as well.

My son is feeling much better tonight.  He hasn't thrown up since last night, and he had ravioli for breakfast.  I won't have to clean any vomit out of my son's hair this evening.  At least, that's my hope.

I'm almost through my first week of teaching.  Tomorrow afternoon, at about 4 p.m., I will have survived.  I know I've said this before, but I've always felt a little bit like a fraud in the classroom.  It's not that I don't have the qualifications to do what I do.  It's that I never feel like I'm good enough to do what I do.  I'm really looking forward to tomorrow's class, however, because one of my favorite students I've ever taught is in the class.  She took writing and literature from me a couple of years ago, and we've kept in touch.  She's been watching, waiting for me to teach mythology.  I just hope I don't disappoint her.

Well, the auditions are continuing, and Saint Marty wants to kick back.  As Ryan says, "This is American Idol!"