The best-laid plans...

Today we went out to celebrate May 1st. Knowing full well that tomorrow I have to be up early in the morning to go to the graduatation ceremonies (and, ahem, knowing second-hand how much it sucks if someone forces you to get trashed the night before your graduation) I was super careful about alcohol intake. Meaning, I drank little. Very little. I was so restrained and careful.

Unfortch, two half drunks make a drunk, and when someone said, "Hop on, I'll give you a piggy-back," I gamely hopped. And he fell. And I fell. And faceplanted. Somehow, we landed only on my face, not his. So now I'll go to graduation tomorrow completely sober, and not at all hungover, but looking like a battered wife. I would include pics, but just google Rihanna and you'll get the idea...

Two events make a trend?

Another example of life-imitating-lessons. Today with the 9.C, we had a test on the Medicine and Injuries unit. Right before the lesson one girl came and announced that she couldn't take the test because she was, well, injured. She had fallen in gym class and scraped herself up - and not put-on-a-bandaid scraped up, but actually being-sent-home-to-recuperate scraped up. Ironically funny.

But a bit worrisome. I wrote before here how I taught a unit on Crime to 9.C, and they almost committed crimes over the unit-end test. So is this a pattern? Teach crime, cause crime; teach injuries, cause injuries? Because the next unit is going to be Global Problems (global warming, wars, societal defects) and the results might be catastrophic...

Renewing my passport, complaint one

Average income in US: $43,000 / Cost to renew US passport in US: $75

Average income in France: $37,000 / Cost to renew US passport in France: $75

Average income in Hungary: $8000 / Cost to renew US passport in Hungary: $75

Average income in Burkina Faso: $210 / Cost to renew US passport in Burkina Faso: $75

Hm. From this I've learned two things.
One, that I'm thankful not to live in Burkina Faso.
Two, that the US State Department doesn't expect expat citizens to exist on a local salary.

Aquasome!

"You realize this could be the end of the world?"
"Yes, Bence, but the waterslides are more important!"

Aquasome! on youtube

my one single, lonely, politics post

I'm so thoroughly sick of hearing about American politics that yesterday when Whineydefensive Máté asked "Why do we have to learn this stuff? It doesn't matter for us..." I would cheerfully have smacked him upside the head with our textbook and said, "Bam, head wound! Guess it matters for you now, huh?" But instead, I was the picture of restraint, laughed when the other students answered him, "We have to learn it because it's on the final exam," and patiently did my spiel about why I'm forcing American Civilization down their throats (we're a superpower, our decisions affect the world, blah blah blah).

Anyway, what did I want to write about? Right... so, sick of politics. Congrats, Mr. Peach, we all know you're going to win, sincere condolences about your grandma. Now, what caught my attention this morning: I was reading CNN.com's Election Trivia (because trivia is way more interesting than actual facts) and this one really made me stop and think:

"This is the first election in 24 years without a Bush or a Clinton heading a major party's presidential ticket."

When I first read it, it struck me because, 24 years, that's almost my age! A Bush or Clinton has been in the White House for all of my life? Yup. Beginning with George H.W. as VP, and a straight line through today. Weird.

Ok, great political insights over. Return to normal life in 3... 2... 1...

Misadventures in Mail

story one: OTP

Grab a seat, it's a long story. Back at the beginning of October, an ATM ate my card. My reaction was protesting in shock to Petra and random-woman-standing-behind-me-at-ATM, and shedding some tears to Tomi. All three of who calmly informed me that probably my card had simply expired, and hadn't I gotten a new one in the mail?

Well, no. So Tomi and I headed to OTP (major bank of Hungary) to sort things out. This was visit one. They explained that for reasons beyond their control, the new cards had gone out slowly this year, and I should just wait. I noticed that on my statement, they had two addresses for me: my mailing address at my school, Varga, where OTP had been sending my monthly statements, and my residence address, Kolozsvári utca, which was my first flat in Hungary. Where I haven't lived for... um... 16 months. So we corrected that, and I was sent home to wait.

one. Lacking other options, we agreed, and went home to wait the two weeks it would take for the Visit two, about a week later I was in the bank again to wire money to Hajni (I know the exact date, it was October 14th, because the money was due the 15th). While there, we thought it prudent to mention that I still hadn't received my new card, and... wasn't it possible that it had been sent to my old incorrect address and my ex-landlady had simply thrown it out (I, ahem, sorry karma, may have thrown out some of her mail while I was living there, so Iwouldn't have had hard feelings if she had tossed it). OTP service lady admitted this was possible, and thought it best to cancel the new card they may-or-may-not-have already sent, and issue a newnew card. We were sent home to wait two weeks for newnew card to arrive.

So today. It's November, no newnew card in sight. I need access to my paycheck. So, once again, we trudge to OTP, visit three. We patiently inquire if there's any news about my card. Service lady looks surprised, and says it should have arrived a month ago. We explain that it didn't. She says hm. We explain about the non-arrival of new card, and the cancellation of new card, and the ordering of newnew card. She says that, according to her magical computer, newnew card was never order. Tomi has some biting words for the efficiency of OTP, and I sign a paper ordering a newnewnew card (or maybe it's just a newnew card, since newnew card was never ordered in the first place...?). Service lady tells us to come in two weeks and pick it up.

But here's the cap of the story: this evening, as I'm sneaking into my school to make illegal copies for the extra lessons I shouldn't be teaching, I check my postbox out of habit. And guess what's there? The original new card. Turns out my landlady's not a total bitch after all; as I can reconstruct from the post stamps, the card arrived as it should have at my old address, current tenant gave it to landlady, landlady took it to her home in village-near-Szolnok to ponder what to do with it, ended up mailing it to my old school, and old school somehow got it to my mailbox in Varga. But now, it's been canceled, so it's worthless. Although, I now have serious doubts about OTP's ability to perform simple functions like canceling a card, so maybe I'll give it a try anyway. What's the worst that can happen? It gets eaten and we start this whole thing again...

story two: ITK

As I may have mentioned to one or two people, I'm taking the Magyar mint idegen nyelv vizsga (Hungarian as a second language exam) this Saturday. I mailed in my registration papers to ITK (idegennyelvi továbbképzõ központ, center for foreign language studies) mid-October, and was anxiously awaiting a letter in return confirming the registration and telling me when and where to show up to be tested.

Sunday, as I was gazing blankly into space, avoiding doing whatever work I was avoiding doing at the time, my eye came to rest on my copy of the registration paperwork. "Oh $%^&!" I yelled, causing both myself and Tomi to jump in out chairs. Just at that moment, I had noticed that instead of XX utca 4, my actual address, I had written XX utca 6.

So this mail mishap was totally my own fault, but it did involve a couple of adventures, first over to number 6 to speak to the woman who lives there. She was very kind and helpful; she had opened the letter and was able to tell us that there wasn't much info on it other than the date and time. After asking around her block of flats, if anyone knew some foreigner named Emily, she asked the postman to take it back. An adventure to the Szolnok Main Post Office told us that by now, my letter was probably back in Pest.... I hope they don't cancel my registration. Funny that I haven't even taken the test yet, de máris elrontottam :(

a typical Saturday

What do these three pictures have in common?


1. A baked spaghetti dinner (baked fusilli, technically)

2. Four guys and I (he he he) wandering around a forest

3. a table full of grafitti. Most of it crap, some of it brilliant...


ps. unfortch I don't have a picture, but we ate French ash-cheese. Cheese, with ash in it. It was awesome. It came from France.

All play and no work...

... is the result of my afternoon. The facts: Varga had a short day, so as of 11:30 I was finished with all official work, and the open afternoon stretched in front of me. Tomi and Petra are both out of town, so neither mischief nor shopping could distract me. Here was my grand chance, finally, to get ahead on lesson plans, clean the house, read for fun...

Well, I did do quite a bit of blog-reading. On hipteacher's blog, I found the link to blogthings, which also took up some time...

Your Linguistic Profile:

55% General American English 20% Yankee 15% Upper Midwestern 5% Dixie 0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Not sure how I got any dixie in me...

You Know You're Hungarian When...

A friend forwarded this to me, and I had to post it. Not only is it hilarious, but pretty accurate test of Hungarianism...

You Know You're Hungarian...

1. When you use sour cream more than ketchup.

2. When your parents come to visit for 3 weeks and you all stay in a one bedroom apartment.

3. When feeding your guests is your main priority even if they claim they're not hungry and in which case you get slightly offended/upset that they don't want your hospitality.

4. When someone says that Hungarian "is like Russian and all those other Slavic languages," and then you have to go into great detail about the origins of Hungarian with a scolding history lesson.

5. When Paprika is just as important as salt & pepper on the table & in food.

6. When you know what Unicum is and prefer it over Jagrmeister.

7. When you know how to open a bottle of wine with only a screw and a pair of pliers.

8. When you tell someone that you are Hungarian, they ask "Are you hungry?" Then you congratulate them on being the millionth person to say that to you.

9. When you've heard, "If you're hungry, why not go to Turkey?" at least once in your life.

10. When you have a relative who's named Attila. Or Jozsef. Or Janos. Or Laszlo.

11. When half of your mothers friends husbands have the name Jozsef.

12. When you know that the "goulash" you see in many restaurants has in actuality little/nothing to do with the gulyas leves we really eat.

13. When meeting another Hungarian in a country outside of Hungary is amazing.

14. When you know the meaning of "kurva" even if you don't know any other Hungarian word.

15. When you love Turó Rudi but cant really explain to foreigners what the hell that is untill they try it.

16. When your foreign friends ask you if you still believe that Santa Claus brings the presents on the night between December 24th-25th... then you answer somehow confused that Santa Claus brings the presents on the 6th of December and it is actually Little Jesus who brings the presents on Christmas, but the presents are already there on the 24th at 6PM.

17. When a pancake is extremely flat in your country and you roll it up instead of folding it.

18. When you know what TÚRÓ is.

19. When you know the phrase "three is the Hungarian truth".

20. When 7 is a bad number.

21. When you leave your house for longer than 2 hours, you make sure there's enough sandwiches, apples, bottled tap water, coffee in a thermos, and chocolate bars packed for everyone to survive (without spending a dime)!

22. When you do not speak with your mouth full.

23. When guys keep telling you that Hungarian girls are the cutest and prettiest and hope that you just believe it and they get laid.

24. When they wanna show off by saying that they know your capital: Bucharest and no, they are not joking!

25. When you go into a Chinese restaurant and order your Sechuan chicken with french fries, cucumber salad and ask for a few slices of bread as well.

26. When you have a funny accent in every other language you speak.

27. When you love Mákos Guba and you can't explain what MÁK is, neither GUBA to anyone.. and if you finallly can, everyone will think you're some kind of weirdo for eating that.

28. When you go into a Posta when every single old person in Budapest wants to, and they keep letting their mates into the line.

29. When catching a bus an old lady with lots of heavy bags runs by you and reaches the bus first, then sits down panting and complaining how old she is and how the stuff is heavy and young people are not well educated, etc.

30. When you start counting on your hand with one being the thumb.

31. When you can swear for 5 minutes straight, with one breath, not using the same word, ever.

32. When you know what 'lángos' is.

33. When you wish you would get 5 bucks everytime somebody says "I know a hungarian word... bazdmeg... *laugh*..."

34. When you can show off your engagement ring, worn on the opposite hand.

35. When you know why the bells of every church ring every day at noon.

36. When you have difficulty pronouncing words started with "W" in English, but you're capable of creating long and meaningful sentences using only "E" vowels in you mother tongue.

37. When you would rather stand up in a tram/trolley when there are plenty of seats available.

38. When you have more excuses for the kontrollers than you have tickets.

39. When the train hasn't even left the station, but you are already eating your home made sandwiches (usually with half a paprika or tomato in it).

40. When you tell everybody that Hungarian people always criticize everything.

41. When the home-made sandwiches on the train include Wienerschnitzel.

So I got 27 out of 41 (take that, Citizienship Board!), although I still have no idea about “three is the Hungarian truth...”

Happy New Year

I’m back! Resolution for this year: blog regularly. Regularly meaning once a week minimum. Once a week meaning with gaps of no more than 7 days.

Other resolutions involve all the customary things, like booze, money, health, housekeeping, work, self-improvement, etc.

On housekeeping: Do it better. Hell, just do it.

On work: I’ve been doing a pretty good job of keeping up with my lesson plans; if I can keep it up and improve just a bit I’d be satisfied.

On health: Actually, I’m not doing so badly, if only I could get rid of my “Santa/baby/belly”

On self-improvement: Learn Hungarian, learn many things, just keep learning in general. Be less selfish, think more about other people. Continue being lazy, but in a more functional way - for example, today I had no electricity upstairs. Instead of finding someone to fix this problem, I used to to justify doing no work all day.

On booze: The hardest one. Giving up drinking entirely is, let’s face it, not a viable option. But I have to find some limits, define them, stick to them.

On money: Payoff credit card or risk broken kneecaps. Begin paying student loans responsibly. Open a savings account here and establish credit; begin thinking about (gulp) retirement funds.

Well... there you go. Stay tuned; approximately 50-odd entries later, I’ll let you know how it goes.

Twenty-four hours

That’s how long it took, from when we left Szolnok at 3am Saturday morning, to when I arrived at Minneapolis-St Paul Airport at 9pm Saturday night. Random thoughts from along the way:

Friday noon: I just now started packing. What can I bring? I can’t get over the feeling that this is like so many weekend trips, that I’ll just going a couple hours, a couple hundred kilometers away, and I’ll be back on Monday to my normal life.
This is the first time I’ve ever been scared to fly. I mean, scared to die in some horrible accident. Is my life really so great now that I’m scared to lose it? Apparently.

Friday afternoon: Everything in me is pulling me against this trip. I don’t want to travel. I don’t want to be in Minnesota. I don’t want to see my parents. I’m trying like hell, but so far there’s not a single real thing that I’m looking forward other than coming back to Szolnok. The closest thing I’ve got is that it’ll be fun to shop for gifts for people.

Friday evening: Is it strange that in the school today, almost everyone who wished me a good trip ended their wishes with “and come back!”? I’d like the know the story behind that. I mean really, what the hell, who didn’t come back??

Saturday morning, way too early: Standing in the first of many lines, the Budapest customs. I stand in the wrong line for ten minutes before moving to the non-EU passports line. The woman behind me is going crazy with the wait, and repeats “Hát, az hihetetlen” dozens of times, accompanied by repeated trips to the front of the line to harass the poor customs workers.

Saturday, Frankfurt: I’m sitting in a lounge, waiting the three hours until my next flight will be shown on the monitors. There are two flights listed back to Budapest. I wonder how easy it would be to change my ticket. I wonder what would happen to my checked luggage.

Saturday, several hours later but still in Frankfurt: Jebus, I’d forgotten how much security you have to go through on America-bound flights. After being patted down, none too gently, by a surly security guard, at the gate I am questioned within an inch of my life by the American Airlines security. They ask me all the normal questions (who packed your bags, have you accepted any gifts, what electronics are you carrying) plus some bordering on too-personal: where did you spend last night, who was with you, who drove you to the airport and how well do you know him, what nationality... etc. The man questioning me sweetly keeps apologizing for being so personal, but also tells me how it’s happened several times that bombs have been found on board. Gee, how reassuring. All I can think is that after all this trouble, I’m going to be DOUBLE-pissed if this plane goes down.

Still Saturday, and again several hours later, now in Chicago: how is this possible: I’ve gone through security three times, for two international flights, including the American Airlines Super-Security. But boarding a one-hour domestic flight from Chicago to MSP is where they finally confiscate my water bottle, and the first time I’m asked to remove my shoes. The man asking me to take them off uses a voice like, “duh, haven’t you ever flown before?” and I want to snap back with “Look, idiot, I’ve flown farther today that you’ll ever travel in your sad state-bound life, and what the hell makes you think anyone would choose to target this poor excuse for a puddle-jump flight? Get over yourself, you self-important bastard.” Perhaps I’m starting to get a bit testy with jet-lag.
PS - sitting in the waiting room for the Chicago-MSP flight, I am so the skinniest person there. Seriously, I look like a model next to these people. Ha ha ha, sweet.

Yet still Saturday (almost over), finally in Minneapolis/St. Paul: I arrive on time. I recognize my family (good thing Sam’s a head taller than everyone else). We drive home and already I’m slipping back into Minnesota. Still not sure about this. We’ll see.

Summer Camp

I may (or may not) have mentioned that my summer plans included working in a summer English camp. The plan was this: ten weeks of work, each week (Mon-Fri) in a different city in Hungary. Primary-school aged kids come every day from 8 to 4, and I and a Hungarian teacher (Kata) play games, do projects, and hopefully teach them some English.

The first week was last week in Szeged, and it was great. There were 14 kids ages 8 to 14, and with one or two exceptions they were smart, funny, motivated, and well-behaved. On the last day we put on a play which the students had made up themselves (but which Kata and I had written). I’m including the play below, because I think it’s pretty hilarious.

Unfortunately, not enough students signed up for all the camps, so other than the week in Szeged there’ll only be one other week, in Szombathely in August. It’s really too bad, because (in addition to being both fun and money for me) the camps seem really well-run, both entertaining and educational. Anyway, doing my bit of promotion, here’s the website for Applecross English Camps.

And here’s the play, Attack at the Disco. I take no responsibility for characters or plot; they were all from the minds of the students:

Narrator - Dear Viewers, today we will tell the story of a terrible attack on the earth. It is a story of how evil UFOs and dwarves tried to take over the world, and how they were stopped by the Great Yoda.

Other Narrator - There is a lack of water on Earth. People are always thirsty and there is no food

Everybody - I’m thirsty, I’m hungry!

Other Narrator - UFOs decided to take over and use the Earth as a storage place.

Little UFO - Let’s get the Earth. People are very weak there.

Big UFO - We need some help! We have to make sure we can occupy the planet. I suggest to talk to the dwarves.

Little UFO - Ok! Let’s go!

Big UFO - Will you help up occupy your planet? You won’t regret it!

Dirty (okay, so I don’t know the Seven Dwarves in English. The boys said they wanted to be Hapsi and Kuka. I knew that Hapsi was Sneezy, and just guessed that Kuka was Dirty. Anyway, it should have been Dopey, oh well) - Sneezy, if we help the aliens we could become kings on Earth. We said we won’t regret it. What do you think?

Sneezy - I actually always wanted a career!

Dirty - Do you have an idea? How could we make sure? What should we do to help them.

Sneezy - On Saturday night everybody goes to the disco. The aliens can take over the Earth there.

Dirty - It is a pleasure to work with you.

Both UFOs - Thank you.

Narrator - At the same time people don’t know anything about the aliens’ plan. They are too busy preparing for a Saturday night out. The famous sisters are just about to go to their fashion designer to have a dress made for Saturday. They always take their cat with them.

Famous Sisters (played by two small girls who always spoke in unison) - I would like a new dress.

Cat - Dresses really suit you.

Fashion Designer - I will make you the best dresses like the Paris designers make.

Famous Sisters - I would like the best make-up ever for tonight.

Cat - I am sure you will be really funky.

Fashion Designer - Please let me do my job!

Famous Sisters - Thank you. You did a great job!

Cat - I will go to the disco with you!

Famous Sisters - Yes, please!

Narrator - While the sisters and their cat and Sara the fashion designer got ready for the big night out, the aliens worked on their terrible plan!

Both Dwarves - These people don’t know what is going to happen. And we will be kings at the end!

Big UFO - Our plan must work

(evil laughter)

Narrator - In the disco, the Fashion Hip-Hop Dancers (three girls who wanted to include a dance routine in the play. Sure, why not?) have already arrived.

Wanda - What a great disco! How did you find it?

Niki - Don’t you remember, we danced here last year in a competition.

Blanka - Oh yes, I remember - we took third place in that competition.

Niki - It was very good.

Wanda - Good?! You think 3rd place is good? No, we must be first.

Blanka - Okay, then let’s practice our dance.

(they perform their dance)

Niki - I think our dancing is getting better. Shall we practice more?

Blanka - No, let’s not, it’s too hot and I’m very tired.

Wanda - Hey, look! Isn’t that those famous sisters with the fashion designer and their cat?

Niki - Yes, it is! Let’s go talk to them.

Famous Sisters and Fashion Designer - Oh, Fashion Hip-Hop Dancers, can we have your autograms?

Niki, Wanda, Blanka - Yes, here you are.

Cat - Meow, me too!

Wanda - Come on, let’s all dance.

Narrator - So everyone danced together happily. They didn’t know that the aliens were about to take over the earth...

Dwarves and UFOs - Rrrarrr!

Girls - (screaming) Help! No!

Dwarves and UFOs - We are here to take over the Earth. You will all die!

(they all fight)

Yoda (played by the most adorable little boy) - STOP! Why are you fighting?

Girls - We want water!

Dwarves - We want money!

UFOs - We want the earth!

Yoda - (to girls) I give you water. (to dwarves) I give you money. (to UFOs) I will kill you. Happy?

Everybody - Yes!!!

Yoda - Okay, let’s dance!!

THE END

Peace

The strangest thing happened to me Sunday morning in a bathroom in Balatonfüred. I was sitting there at about 8am, surrounded by a hostel-full of slumbering Americans (and Brits and Aussies, etc). And it suddenly hit me how at peace I was. Everything in my life has just come together:

- although Kassai (my current school) finally let me go officially, within an hour I was offered a position next year at Varga (the super-nice, way prestigious gymnasium). So next year, if all goes to plan, I’ll have a cushy job teaching near-fluent teenagers, full pay, and free flat.

- having finally kicked my two-month stomach flu, I’m completely healthy. Maybe better than I’ve ever been. I’m just glowing with good health.

- for once, I’m completely at peace with all relatives, friends, boyfriends, and colleagues. No drama, no fights, just harmony. Too bad all but one of the Americans are abandoning me.... sniffle.

- I got a bike (inherited from one of those sniffle-inducing leaving Americans)! I’m still way too scared to actually use it on the streets, but... someday.

- Hungarian lessons are going well. I might actually be learning something. In any case, at least I’m thinking about it every day.

- the Balaton weekend was good - much better than I would have thought, given that hanging out with large groups of foreigners in a strange place is my personal idea of hell. There was a minimum of drama and a maximum of hanging around drinking and enjoying the sunshine.

- thanks to Bridget’s curiosity, I’ve gotten back into making ATCs, and having a creative outlet again has made me so much happier and more productive feeling.

- as much as I love my school, I’m accepting moving on. I feel bad about leaving my students because, next year, they likely won’t have a native speaker, but I’ve already got plans to offer them cheap private lessons or some sort of English club.

- not to mention, the majority of the kids are gratifyingly disappointed with my leaving. Today, one class stayed 10 minutes extra just to hang out.

Anyway, that’s it... coming up roses. And in the future, look for more frequent updates, since I’m about to embark on a whole new teaching adventure, both over the summer and in the fall, AND on a whole new adventure in my personal life...

The best part of teaching is the weekend

Oh, Sunday mornings. This has been my day so far:

- got up. Actually: woke up, rolled over, watched SpongeBob for half an hour, then got up

- got “dressed” (pajama bottoms and oversized sweater)

- drank two coffees

- started but not finished my Hungarian homework (writing a page about my family)

- started but not finished my other Hungarian homework (memorizing the complete forms of the 7 most important verbs)

- started but not finished updating my resume

- started but not finished creating some ATCs

- pestered various people unlucky enough to have MSN Messenger (oceannia@hotmail.com; I’m usually on and frequently bored)

- gave two whole seconds of thought to my school’s upcoming Project Week, and the “tasks” I’m supposed to be planning. Well, maybe slightly more than 2 seconds. About 2 seconds, plus however long it took to write this sentence

- ate lunch (cold pizza leftovers) and cracked a beer

- dwelled on and enjoyed being in my PJs and doing nothing

- wrote this

Distraught

This week, I looked at my calendar and realized that I only have 6 more weeks of teaching, and only 3 of them full weeks. This happy realization prompted me into a fit of lesson planning, wherein I managed to plan almost all my lessons for the rest of the year. It goes without saying that I was pretty proud of myself and my work.

This morning when I opened up the plans, they were ruined. I don’t know why, but both files, a spreadsheet and a text, reverted themselves back to very, very early versions. All my work is gone.

And the worst part is, I don’t understand why. I saved both files as I was working on them, frequently. So what’s my motivation for recreating my work if there’s a possibility of losing it again?

I’m not a happy person. The only thing keeping me going right now is... well, coffee. And the ever-so-slight hope of being able to enjoy the upcoming 4-day weekend.

Az üzenet az üzenet (the message is the message)

“Don’t worry, there are many hours in the day.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure you’ll find a way to waste them all.”

My waste de jour: Two-Tailed Dog Party

(click on the British flag for a language similar to ours)

Can’t catch me, I’m the Gingerbread Man

I walked into one the classrooms today and found, inscribed on the board in a child’s painfully careful cursive, in faint green marker:

Run, run, as fast as you can.

I don’t know how they learned this line. I can’t believe they’re studying the poem, so maybe it was just a secret message for me. Anyway, the randomness of it made my longest day go a little faster.

Can’t catch me, I’m the Gingerbread Man

I walked into one the classrooms today and found, inscribed on the board in a child’s painfully careful cursive, in faint green marker:

Run, run, as fast as you can.

I don’t know how they learned this line. I can’t believe they’re studying the poem, so maybe it was just a secret message for me. Anyway, the randomness of it made my longest day go a little faster.