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Last moments before the bell until the last letter

My back was held a month ago. At first I was almost alone in school. Afterwards, the teachers arrived, the students there already 2 weeks. The session is actually started.

Yet, in this penultimate evening in August, I feel a bit nostalgic. Funny, it seems that all these years in the school system programmed me to consider the weekend of Labor Day as the last minutes of recess. The bell will ring soon and we will return, even if the portion of dodge ball or flag is not over.

Since I was not too good in team games, I was not too disappointed to hear the bell ringing. I loved the holidays, of course, but receive new books, cover, get new pencils, a nice smelling good clears, a rule that I promised myself (without much success) to never lose a nouvelle classe, une nouvelle maîtresse qui, peut-être, crierais moins après les élèves que celle de l'année d'avant, une nouvelle place dans la classe, de nouvelles possibilités d'amitiés et de rires partagés sont toutes des choses qui me rendaient profondément heureuse. Ce bonheur ne durait pas toujours longtemps et il m'arrivait de regretter, durant un cours de maths somnifère, mes matins de liberté passés à écouter "The Price is Right", mais j'aimais les promesses apportées par la rentrée.

La semaine dernière, je voyais des élèves s'en aller à l'école pour participer aux activités de bienvenue organisées par thereof. I do not envy them. I remember I did not like all these preliminaries. I wanted to get into the thick of things, start learning for real and finally use my new my new notebooks and pens.

The sky was beautiful tonight in Ottawa. You could see the stars twinkle around the Peace Tower of Parliament. We went out with faithful friends celebrate Mathieu. Aperitif at "18" and fine dining in Health Rideau Street. I have not thought too much about my life. To paraphrase Beau Dommage, I "left my job and forgot to make me" the good red English, with laughter and mocha creme brulee flavor caregiver. I forgot que c'était la rentrée et j'ai savouré l'été. Demain (ou plutôt, ce soir), ce sera le dernier soir d'août. Après, ce sera septembre. J'imagine qu'il fera chaud, en septembre. Je me rappelle que lorsque j'étais jeune, je voulais absolument porter mon linge neuf lors des premiers jours d'école. Pantalons de corduroy, cols roulés et vestes de laine Jacob composaient bien sûr les éléments de ma garde-robe automnale que je portais alors qu'il faisait 28 degrés à l'extérieur. J'aurais aimé qu'il fasse frais tout de suite.

L'automne n'arrivait jamais assez vite.

I still feel a bit like that today, even if I try to stay a little longer this time. Tomorrow we'll see the new Woody Allen, oh miracle, was released on 2 screens in Ottawa when he is not released elsewhere. A film by Woody inevitably mark the return of autumn. It only remains for me to buy a nice wool sweater and accept that I will wait for the freshness that will certainly not happen before wearing.

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I was touched to learn, while returning from work, the journalist Michel Vastel died today. I did not know that he was ill. I do not always share his ideas, but I enjoyed the occasion, read his blog and see on TV. I think what surprised me more than knowing death was made clear that he wrote a blog entry today ...! I do not know what were the circumstances of his death, but I find life very strange sometimes. One minute, the gentleman says goodbye to its virtual drives, the next minute he is gone. I read his entries the past few days. He never complained about his health, but rather spoke of Couillard.

Michel Vastel did not see her blog as a personal account, but as a reflection of public space. I think if I was dying, I could not help but talk about it. Mr. Vastel was not a personal approach. He remained faithful to himself until his death. In his last entry, he said he was entering his land. I hope he is in them. He felt that he would leave today? Do we read a farewell letter to the blog or a letter of farewell to life? I do not know.

This event reminds me of the relationship between death and the Internet. I've been saddened to learn of the unexpected death of someone close by email. The total shock. I wonder if, at Facebook and Myspace, we will say goodbye to those we love but we no longer see through these sites. The day I die, do I want to write one last blog entry, to be present on the Web until my last letter? I do not know. I wonder.

I do not want to think of death tonight, I will not sleep well. I'm going to put me in touch with the life that will overflow (well, I hope) Barack Obama's speech in a few minutes to talk to Democrats who will maybe one day mourning for Clinton. I am sure Mr. Vastel that would also listened to the speech. And, even sick, even tired, he would have spoken passionately and eloquently in his blog tonight or tomorrow morning.

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Gratitude

few years ago, my favorite gouroune, Oprah, advised his listeners to do what is called in English "gratitude list". After each day, she advised his followers to note why they thanked life. As I walked on the Web, I discovered a blogger Valerie, who publish at least every two days. I do not promise to do the same thing (you might tanner assez vite de m'entendre dire que je suis contente des 6 sortes de cafés disponibles à la cafeteria de mon école), mais je me suis dit que je devrais recommencer à me demander, à la fin de chaque jour, pourquoi je suis contente de ce que la vie m'a donné, depuis 24 heures.

Voilà donc ma liste pour aujourd'hui.


Je remercie la vie pour:

• L'air frais respiré ce matin. Un beau petit vent. La canicule ne s'est pas installée. Ouf.
  
• Nina Simone écoutée dans mon auto en revenant du travail. Personne ne chante aussi bien qu'elle "Nobody wants you, when you're down and out"
  
• Ce chèque $ 1000, found on my kitchen table, returning to work. No, I do not sell drugs, but instead I bought a Yaris, which allowed me to enjoy the discount offered by the federal government for buying a car less harmful to the ecology.
  
• This organic Colombian coffee tasted with colleagues that I am glad to find
  
• My new students intelligent and attentive. I hope they will also remain challenging throughout the session.
  
• Barack Obama. His smile, his hands, his generosity, his charisma, which will, I hope so, switch the heart and soul throughout America. What interesting picture presented by RDI, the Great Reportage tonight.
  
• Not having eaten Maple Leaf meats in recent weeks.
  
• Having slept well last night, even though it was Sunday.
  
• quietly Find great pleasure to teach. I feel that touch hearts and minds, sometimes. Answering questions after my classes, smile, say hello to more and more young people.
  
• able to have time for myself tonight because I worked hard this weekend.

There, 10-point, why I am happy with my day. And it's not even finished.

I'm still not used to working, I still have a hard time getting up in the morning. I can not say as I listen to Dan Bergman at this time that "everything is going." Without fly on pink clouds and unrealistic, I may decide to lay my eyes on the flowers which spread to my feet rather than the pot-chicken that my path is strewn.

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Have I mentioned my new Dell?

Yes, I've already talked about my new Dell laptop-white shiver. I ramble a bit, I apologize. You see, a week after my purchase, I'm still ecstatic having arrived in the 21st century. Pleased to be able to access the vast canvas magic, sitting in the trailer of my parents. Glad to be able to connect to the Internet for free in my favorite Starbucks (with which I returned today, by the way). Pleased to discover all the features of my toy, which I do not disappoint, to date.

I know what happiness is materialistic and crass is likely that the passenger also my battery. I know, I know. And I just finished the new Eckhart Tolle, and more. But I'm still happy to live in an age where I can drag without too much trouble a huge bank of information. Merely afford me that luxury, which in my case was not an absolute necessity. Glad I found the taste to write and be able to do anywhere, everywhere, everywhere (or almost).

Listening Area music that has a special bearing on the songs of Leonard Cohen, I tell myself that if this new computer can make me write a bit more, be more motivated to hone my classes, to finally put order in all these photos taken during my recent travels, it will not be a toy, but much more. I'll decide what I ferai de mon portable. Je peux m'en servir (comme je le fais souvent, je l'admets) pour explorer, un peu compulsivement, mes sites de nouvelles préférés: Cyberpresse et People.com. Je peux aussi aller voir à toutes les deux minutes ce que mes amis font d'intéressant, en consultant Facebook. Je peux aller prendre mes messages hotmail en attendant frénétiquement la nouvelle qui donnera un nouveau sens à ma vie (ou à ma journée). Ou je peux faire comme ce cher Cohen et me renouveler. Aller voir d'autres sites que ceux que je visite habituellement, écrire autre chose, sortir de mon chemin familier. Ajouter des favoris.

Il fait chaud ce soir. ''On a enfin un été'', some say. Even if the season change will not happen for another month, I sense a new season arrives. In air, in my head and on my screen.

Basically, I want my computer is a tool of freedom, because as Cohen sings:

''Like a bird on the wire,

Like a drunk in a midnight fall

I Have Tried In My Way To Be Free.''

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shall I enter into a school for the rest of my life? My new thrill

I started teaching this week. I work at the same school 10 years. By nature shy, I usually feel comforted at the thought of seeing students I have worked the year before. But if you read a little bit this blog, you know that last year, I was everywhere but at my table. I was walking on a camel in India or aboard trains and ferries Croatian Romanian. Meanwhile, students who are now old were learning about and creating links with my colleagues. I do not regret my trip one bit, rest assured. I still find it hard to go back to school and feel outside the group, just like when I'm moved from primary to secondary.

It also happened to me yesterday, an experience worthy of a film by John Hughes (Breakfast Club, Pretty in Pink, etc.). I head to the cafeteria and get me a cup of coffee (our school has moved and we have a choice between not one, not two but five flavors of Colombian!) And see some students of 2nd year that I recognize my course of Monday morning. They smile at me. I said to this point I wrong to be neurotic, I will create links with these elders, as I have created hundreds of others before them. I'm about to go see them for a chat when I hear one of them shouting "Laurie, come see us! Laurie! Laurie!" They smiled at me not at all to me. They were happy to see Laurie, my successor, who was coming behind me ... I went and nobody wanted to talk to me. I went to buy my coffee (a good Sumatra) and drank alone, reading my Courrier International, who spoke of the exclusion of Roma in Europe. I consoled myself by saying that in matters of exclusion, there are far worse than me. I went back to my office and I told my experience to colleagues who understood me. I must not be the only one who felt this way, early year, I guess.

At the end of the day, my ego had gotten better, but I still wonder. After 10 years of teaching, why still feel like in high school back to school? Observe others who laugh and seem to know each other since forever, not knowing where to stand, who say hello when laugh, when to speak, when to shut up ... I know I'm not the only one who felt this way in my school. I see young shaved the walls and be excited that the course begins, because they will finally have an official occupation and they will not be forced to "make contacts". I think my discomfort helps me understand what they live. That's one advantage to all this.

I know that this week is the worst. Next week, the season will be a thing of the past.

In the meantime, I do what I always did to console me: I write, I read, I talk to sensitive souls, and I drink good coffee Sumatra. One day maybe I will come out of high school. I do not know. If I do, I'll talk. And I'll buy a prom dress. To celebrate.