Getting no response in any situation always sucks. Getting no response when you know bad things are going to start happening if you don't is even worse. The life of a substitute means you'd bloody well better have something to do between June and September. Mind you, my situation is not nearly as dire as it's been in the past, particularly in instances where I made more of a conscious effort at simple self-gratification. I'm not that Bohemian any more, really. I haven't been for quite some time. I still have to take care of business, and with the economy the way it is right now, it doesn't make matters any better. The idea came to mind of the feeling being akin to screaming at the top of your lungs into an endless void, praying to God someone will respond. My mental soundtrack lately has been mostly stuck on a Korean gangsta rap group called Uptown; their music is pretty much done in one-third Korean, one-third English, and one-third Spanish, thanks to the "eclectic" lineage of the group's leader, one Sun Wook "Steve" Park; his vocal diatribe tells of him being the product of Mexican/Korean ancestry. I can only imagine how a lineage that dichotomous could screw with your head. The English in their lyrics is primarily due to their popularity in L.A.'s Korean Town, where other members of the group hail from, and as is fairly typical of gangsta rap, the stories told are the product of a lot of drama. Not so much friends dying in my case, but still, it's seemingly endless. Makes me happy in a way, because I haven't had to deal with the death of someone that wrenched my heart out, just all the situations leading up to something that could be that awful. Divorce. Losing the right to tuck your kids in, and tell them stories whenever you want. Mind you, okay, at 13, and, now, pushing 10, they're both really too old for that, and perhaps it's just as well that I don't have a front-row seat for some of the drama I know is coming up, but it's more about what feels like what was taken from me, and now what I seemingly can't reclaim and just hafta deal with. What do I do, and who the hell am I? And when I finally discover something I'm good at, I discover further that I'm not really prepared to do it at any but the most minimal extent. Which, of course, is not to say that teaching has not been highly affective to me, it has, it's been totally empowering. It makes me feel good to see a student "get" it. Yeah, okay, it's hard to make them want to pay attention at times, I'd say that pretty much comes with the territory. It's just being where I'm at, and seemingly being stuck in the same location for the time being is making me nuts. Maybe that's just the ADD talking, but......ah, never mind, I've probably said it all before, and it still hurts like hell. I've probably pondered before why the pressure is on so much amongst those in our society who are pretty much least able to handle it by themselves; teenagers do have it rough, and as adults we put a lot of it on them, simply as expectations that they're going to know what to do with themselves, and how to contribute to society at such a tender age, all on their own. We all know what I have to say about fair. And God forbid their aspirations don't mesh with our expectations, or what we as adults think is going to work. Am I right? Am I wrong? Thank you, David Byrne, is it the Same as it Ever Was?