happy birthday, moi-moi.



To the original G-Child: Happy 23rd Birthday, kid.

Sorry, I haven't always been the model goh-goh/big brother. By God's grace, you've grown up into an adult, full of all the warmth, independence, and sunny disposition that you've had since we were kids. We didn't always get along when we were younger, but I'm glad that as "grown-ups" we can love and support each other like the family we are.

In our father's absence, I've done my best to look out for you and hope you'll forgive me for the many mistakes I've made by both neglect or anger... I'm sure I'll make a couple more down the road. So remember in the future: if I ever threaten a boyfriend of yours with a baseball bat, or take your kids out to the target range to shoot high-caliber handguns, or something else that might seem silly... it's only because I know Dad would do the same. =)

...

And in other news...

Today was my first day teaching in the city of Itami... the English school is located in the building of a mega-sized, 4 story mall. A virtual Babylonian temple to capitalism, whoohooo! I'll be there every Friday now.

So what's different about Itami you might ask? Ah, easy:

Kids. Lots and lots of 'em.

I'm now in charge of teaching English to kids as young 5 years old and as old 12. Classes are grouped by age, and can be as large as 8 students. Now 8 students might not sound like a lot, but when you only have 1 teacher... imagine the damage they can do...

Today went by OK, but a little rough at times because the students didn't know me and they have two default actions:

1. Staring at me with wide-eyed, blank faces.
2. Running around, in random chaotic patterns and pouncing some imaginary animal to the ground.

In most respects, it's like teaching shy?@adults... (well, without the pouncing thing) except these students have barely started mastering the Japanese language, let alone English, so using my Japanese is often just as futile as trying to talk to them in English. Luckily, an experienced teacher was there to guide me for the most part.

Next week will be the real test. I'll be left all alone with the whole lot of ravenous, wild children... for TWO classes. Must... suppress... children's... cannibal... tendencies. If I survive next Friday will all my limbs functioning and no bite marks, I'll be happy.

Number of students who cried in class today: Only one, but she was kind of a faker. Threw frequent hissy fits, but what can you expect if the parent always caves in...

On a happy note, I was able to encourage the more brave (and curious) students to participate in class by crouching low and letting them feel my shaved head. I suppose a big bald man as your teacher can be a bit intimidating... kowai! (scary)
posted by G at 5:48 AM   |

in?scrip?tion (n-skrip-shun)n.
1. The act or an instance of inscribing.
2. Something, such as the wording on a coin, medal, monument, or seal, that is inscribed.
3. A short, signed message in a book or on a photograph given as a gift.
4. The usually informal dedication of an artistic work.
5. Jeremiah 31:33