Guys! It's August! And you know what that means right?
No, no. It doesn't mean moving into a dorm room in Moscow for my fifth year of school. I'm done with that dorm crap I tell you! And I have been for a while, although admittedly I did like living in the dorms for all the friends I made there...but anyway! No! I am living at home.
And going back to high school.
You heard me. High School. That confine with the cheerleading and the footballing, and the goths and the nerds and the latest gossip about who's dating who and the like, I mean, you remember it don't you? But AREN'T YOU SO TOTALLY EXCITED? Don't lie. I mean honestly I still get confused for a high school student and I'm almost 22 years old! But hey, I keep hearing that will serve me well in life, so I don't hate it. Okay, maybe a little and only because people sometimes don't take me serious.
Well, I'm not very serious. But only sometimes.
The bright side to this time around though, is that I'm on the other side of the high schoolers. I will be their art teacher! And they will LOVE it. I mean, they have to right? Who could resist this face?
I was in Moscow on Saturday to see The Boy and to attend the most prestigious pajama party on the block. I was so excited to see him that I could't fall asleep for hours and then once I did drift off to dreamland it was only for a few hours and then my body woke back up around five. Yeah, cool kid status up in here, up in here.
The pajama party was pretty great, but by 10 o'clock I was starting to die. So....tired...need....caffeine... Truth be told, I really just wanted a white coffee latte, but that late at night in the summertime where do you find one of those? Cruel joke, world.
So I went to the grocery store for an energy drink, because what else was I supposed to do? Just fall asleep on the couch? Not happening.
There's a point to this story, I promise.
The Boy came with me, and I picked out some fruit and a red Amp to help wake my brain back up. We discovered that our taste in bananas is vastly different. He likes them to be mushy and I prefer them just barely ripe - in case you were wondering.
In the check out line, the cashier was a pretty, young girl, but I didn't really notice who she was. She recognized me from school and asked me if I was going to teach any more classes at the university next semester. I had to look up from my wallet to see her face. She was one of my art 100 students.
We chatted about teaching and schooling for a few minutes and then I wished her a good night and The Boy and I left back for the car. He gives me this sidelong look like "what just happened?" So I told him I used to be her teacher.
As to which he asked about 7 billion questions about "But wait, you taught here? At the University?" and "how long was the class?" and "so then why are you so worried about student teaching?"
And really, why am I nervous about that? Because it's something I've never done before. It's totally classic fear of the unknown with me. I taught Art 100 studios for a year. I completed my practicum in the Moscow High School art room. I was a day camp counselor for two consecutive summers.
I have got this down.
But I'm still nervous. Excited, too, but mostly nervous. I figure once I'm actually there and I got my feet wet it won't be such a big deal. For now, though, it's a little nerve racking. What kinds of things do I need? What am I going to talk about? I've never done pottery before. I'll have to learn as much as the students. Deep breath. It'll be okay. I've got this.
Fake it til you make it, as they say. And I feel like that's exactly what I'll be doing. This is gonna be fun.