What One Girl Knows

So. My first day of student teaching at I.S. 5 was a big waste of time. Several teachers decided not to show up, and conversely, more than the expected amount of students, so the morning was spent babysitting 75 fourth through eighth graders while watching National Treasure in an auditorium. Is National Treasure really an appropriate movie for fourth graders? There were quite a few guns. No sex though, I guess we can be thankful about that much.

Oh, and right before the movie, some mysterious pen exploded in my backpack just as my water bottle (also in my backpack) uncapped itself. A vivid blue puddle seeped from the bag, stained the bottoms of my books, and made me temporarily miserable.

And now my first class at Queens College has been cancelled. Though I guess I shouldn't complain too too much -- it means that I actually have time to blog.

Terrifying dream about Jason this morning. It was one of those closer-to-reality-than-comfortable scenarios where I woke up from a deep sleep, saw Jason next to me, and realized that he should have still been in Dunkirk (I enjoy how my dream life preserves certain facts from my life). He looked like Jason and sounded like Jason, but I knew it wasn't Jason. At one point, my dream self even banished the evil Jason look-alike from the apartment.

Okay. Now that I actually described it, it sounds more like a Buffy episode than a nightmare. But it was scary. I wonder where it stemmed from. Am I secretly afraid that I don't really know who Jason is?

Which also, from an awake-me standpoint, sounds quite ridiculous.