At last, the hormones in my body have stopped freaking out and I feel a little more put together.� Thank god.
Autumn is settling down its cool weather in Missoula.� I�enjoyed a walked yesterday in the warm sun,� remembered how much I�love Missoula.� I guess Iapos;m finally feeling like Iapos;ve a place of my own in Montana.� Itapos;s strange to think about Helena as a home- I�barely remember how to get around the place when Iapos;m back visiting family.� And in reality, I spent little over two years there...Iapos;ve been here for over three now.� I dread the impending freeze of the coming months.� The cold gray skies make me lonely and comfortably depressed.
In my prepatory class for teaching my cursed seminar, we discussed how we should start developing various modes of thinking freshman year, and that without realizing it, one day your gathered knowledge would all coalesce together.� Such a strange phenomenon, and itapos;s been happening to me this semester.� Iapos;m thinking about theory from Post-colonial Literature when listening to the radio, using my English strategies to inform my theatre lessons, and using old texts as sources for upcoming papers.� Itapos;s a very satisfying feeling, knowing that itapos;s all coming together.�
And at no better time than when Iapos;m a semester away from finishing my studies.� I had made a decision to finish school in five years, in order to give myself a chance to study theatre an extra semester.� However, the past few days have potentially changed all of that.�� I received an email from an old professor of mine, asking if anyone would be interested in student teaching in India at an IBO school.� I�immediately emailed her back, asking when would be the best time to do such a thing.� She replied, telling me it would be next fall with an opportunity to continue for the rest of the school year with pay and benefits....but that I needed to check to make sure it would could toward my certification. Holy. Shit. Now watch me freak out.� It has been a dream of mine to teach abroad, and if I could, student teach. But I had no "in" to do so- until now, that is.� Suddenly, I might only have one semester left of school- something I have not mentally come to terms with.� and only a semester left to study theatre as much as possible (making up for how much Iapos;ve neglected it for the past three years.)� If I do this, if I�teach in India come August.... Sacrifices will have to be made now.� That means relinquishing my role as SFC organizer-� something Iapos;ve been looking forward to and planning for months now, and risking the group falling apart because of it. That means allowing myself to give up one love for another dream.� I know Iapos;ll feel I�failed myself if I�do, but I also know I�wonapos;t forgive myself if I donapos;t take this opportunity.�
and I canapos;t even let myself really get to this step yet anyway, because this could also not count as a student teaching.. I am failing to cross that bridge when I�get to it.� Too much chance and excitement up in the air.� I should find out in the next couple days. �
How queer life is...
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amazing woman year, caring for african violets, caring for african american hair, caring for acrylic nails, caring for acrylic nail.
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