Yo Mista!

Hello,

My name is ***** and I should have done this a long time ago.

For those of you who don't know me, I suppose I come off as a somewhat intelligent and confident person with a decent sense of humor (or so I'm told). However (and this may come off as a shock for those who do know me), I have a hard time believing people actually want to hear what I have to say. Fuck, sometimes I don't think I want to hear what I have to say.

Back to the point: I finally gave into blogging. I blame you.

I also blame you for my Gmail, Facebook, and LinkedIn accounts as well as everything else I've given into because everyone is doing it. Although, I suppose if these are the only things I've been peer pressured into, I should be okay. Teaching at a transfer high school in New York City has given me that perspective. More on that later.

But seriously, I've been told numerous times by those in and out of my circle (including my significant other), that I really should document my thoughts, feelings and life events. Unfortunately, what I pictured in my head when people encouraged me to reflect was more along the lines of a reading questionnaire. You know, kind of like what you would see in high school when you just finished reading a chapter from The Catcher in the Rye. Please provide a minimum of 4-6 sentences for each response. Be sure to use correct spelling, proper grammar and incorporate this week's vocabulary words in your responses:

1. What happened? 
2. Why was it important? 
3. What was he thinking? How did he feel? 
4. How does all of this relate to the overall theme?

Fuck. That. Shit. This cannot be in any way, shape or form organized. I may write about yesterday, the week before, and then I'll write about something that happened months ago. It might all even be in the same post. I apologize in advance (as a college roommate used to say). I just can't make a commitment to keep this thing orderly. It's too much work and I don't want to go back on my word. Just be thankful I'm giving you the pleasure of me unloading (Heh, I said unloading...).

What's funny is this blog may at times seem orderly to you, but this is actually me when I'm not organized. Imagine how tidy my underwear drawer must be. That's right, I fold my fucking underwear and pair up my socks. It's the cool thing to do kids.

Writing is supposed to be therapeutic, but I am afraid of turning it into an obsession. As if teaching during the day, grad school at night, being married (with the emotional capacity of a rock sometimes) and being a supportive big brother weren't enough. The last thing I need is another time commitment. Spoiler Alert: We're thinking about getting a dog.

Oh yeah - the title. You think New York City students actually call us by our names?