Over a month since I've updated this blog. I've just been so busy what with the... and also there was this... actually I haven't been busy at all; lazy in fact. This job is cake. Frustrating, frustrating cake. On the one hand, I only have to make one lesson plan a week, and it seems that at least once a week a class is canceled, and often more. Take this week: one class canceled Thursday, no class Friday. Next week? Classes canceled Tuesday and Friday. But I still have to go to school and sit for eight hours. If you've been wondering why I've been doing so many stupid, stupid Facebook quizzes lately, there you go.

When I'm in class is another story. It's hard to teach conversational English to people who won't talk or listen to you. I've begun entertaining myself in class: stupid jokes, funny voices. I've actually had to do that less lately; I think I'm really getting through to some of these kids. I've already started writing the screenplay. The kids are actually kind of adorable and really funny, when they're not hitting each other (though I admit I find that funny sometimes). The best was when I tried to wake up a rather chubby kid and his buddy said, "sleeping pig!" in classic Engrish accent. Classic closed mouth sputter surprise laugh. My love for slap stick has never been stronger.

Since I feel kind of like an impostor, I don't really take it to heart that they don't listen to me. I don't have any qualifications to teach except fluency in my native tongue. Not to mention that they have to be at school from eight in the morning until eight or nine at night. No shit. And there's always a disgruntled teacher ready to whack 'em on the shins with the little wooden batons they carry around. So let the poor guys dick off for an hour a week.

Before I close, to relate the best episode yet concerning my deeply, pathetically goofy principal. I wish I had a picture (wow I spelled that "pitcher" and caught myself) of this guy to set up the story. He called me Monday on my cell phone from two doors down the hall and asks me to come to his office. I get there and sit down and there is a piece of paper with the lyrics of "Yesterday" printed on it. He explains that he's going to sing "Yesterday" for the school festival next week. This man's English is serviceably broken at best. He wants my help, not with pronunciation, but with singing the song. What follows is half an hour of me singing a line halfway decently and then Principal Asian Stereotype getting everything wrong. Horribly, gratingly wrong. I felt my insulted for my culture. I felt pity. I laughed a lot as soon as I left the room. Poor guy.

So, school life. Next week: I get black out drunk and wake up in a hotel two doors down from the one I'd checked in the night before. Unless something better happens. I guess in one sense many, many better things could happen to me than that.