soy in apple.

It's been one hell of a summer. Moving cross country immediately after graduation, I didn't expect that I would adjust to New York so well. The subway system's pretty great (overall), I've done more walking in 6 weeks than I did in college, and I've (unfortunately) increased my alcohol tolerance over the course of the last month.

This is the last week of the program, and finally, I can start wandering around aimlessly to get to know the streets a little better. Except for when I go to the Bronx and out to a bar with my friends in the program, I almost never go above 20th St. I only go up to 20th because that's where I'm currently living. Next week, I'll be living in the East Village in my very own apartment. I'm excited to decorate and furnish my place with non-dorm furniture. In my current sublet, I'm using NYU's old dorm furniture. Though the apartment itself is spacious, I constantly feel as though I'm back at Caltech with this ugly furniture.

While I'm enjoying the city, the fast-paced nature of it is definitely exhausting at times. I often find myself rushing from place to place even though I don't have anywhere I need to be. Maybe it's because I don't like to waste the little leisure time by walking around too slowly or waiting an inconvenient amount of time between trains. Whatever it is, my favorite part of the day is just getting home, changing into my pajamas, and crashing on my bed for 10 minutes before I do anything else.

I miss California a lot, especially recently. I definitely do not miss the inhuman temperatures during this time of summer in Southern California, but I miss the dry heat and the more relaxed nature of home in general. The humidity here is awful! I feel like I'm walking into a sauna sometimes. I've gotten caught in the rain several times without an umbrella, and just yesterday we started having thunderstorms. The unpredictable nature of East Coast weather is something I love and hate compared with the constancy of California weather.

I wish I could go home in August for at least a week, but I swore I would not let myself do so until I find a permanent teaching position. I'll be flying down to Florida for a friend's wedding, so that'll be 4-5 days of nothing but parties, food, and the beach! I'm definitely grateful, because that will be extremely relaxing--I haven't seen a beach in so long! I regret not taking advantage of California's coast more when I was living there. At least now I'll appreciate it more when I go back for my winter vacation.

Still not what you expect. I stick out like a sore thumb whenever I go to the Bronx. Even in broad daylight, I occasionally worry about my safety when I'm going anywhere other than Lehman College or the I.S. 174 campus.

Today, I had an interview on Morris Ave and 140th St, which is a 5-10 minute walk from the subway stop. Once off the subway, I saw very few people and was just hoping to get to the school as quickly as possible. After a nice conversation with the principal of the school, I was joyfully walking back to the subway stop and had a number of guy ogle me like I was some sort of exotic spectacle and say "Heyy sweetie... you're a good-looking girl. Come back here." Now, I wonder if it were the short, the Asian, or the pants that awkwardly fell a little too high above my ankle? Mmm, sexy.

(Also, note to self: buy better trousers.)

It's been a long time since I've listened to Wolf Parade. I have this tendency to listen to my favorite bands over and over and over until I fall in love with something new. Sometime last year, I moved onto Animal Collective, but Wolf Parade will always have a special place in my heart. And, so will Death Cab. Don't judge--you know you liked them too.

Listening to Wolf Parade reminds me of a phase of my life that was so much easier. School, research, sleep, and dorm life. While a number of traumatic events interrupted this cycle, I never once had to worry about my credit score, signing a lease, balancing my work with a social life, or the track work on the trains I take everyday. What's more challenging is that I still have to work on school, sleep, and maintaining a active personal life on top of everything else. I'm still in a crappy transition phase where I'm partially dependent on my mother because I have no job, but I can't spend anytime looking for a job because my life is being overwhelmed by the training and preparations for that job I still need to get. Life's funny like that.

Throughout the weekend, I realized that I've been feeling extremely homesick. Despite the fact that I'm here in New York doing something I wanted to do, I'm so unsure of the present and what the future holds for me. In high school, it was easy: 1) get into college; 2) go to college; 3) figure out the rest later. All this is worsened by my uncertainty of how good a teacher I'll actually be. The program chose me because they thought I would do well. My peers and my advisor have given me great feedback, as have my cooperating teacher and field visitor. Whose opinion really matters though? The kids.

I've only been in summer school for a week, and it's the first time I've interacted with adolescents in a long time. I feel like I can't blame myself for not connecting with them, but I feel dejected when my kids prefer the other teacher. I can't tell if it's my personality, their lack of familiarity with me, or a racial thing. I've definitely already experienced being stereotyped by some of my students, and I am the only Asian at this school. The communities in the Bronx are extremely homogeneous, despite the overall heterogeneity of New York City. I suppose I can't blame them for keeping their guard up, and I can't blame myself for any flaws I've had in the classroom, given that these are my first weeks handling classes of approximately 20 students. All I can do is try to work on my skills and keep moving forward, but nagging question in my mind is whether I made the right decision or not.

I started training in a classroom on Monday. I spent the first two days observing my cooperating teacher interacting with the students and helping them with their work to some extent, and I taught for the first time today.

So first, let me tell you a little bit about my class. These are 7th going on 8th grade students, all of whom passed their state exams but either failed their classes or were forced into summer school as a disciplinary action. If a teacher, such as my cooperating teacher or myself, cannot see the reason why these kids are in summer school, how can we expect the kids to want to be there? To some extent, it's almost lucky that these students are not quite at grade level--they still have trouble with multiplication, fraction addition, and basic geometric concepts like area or perimeter. This way, we can at least provide them with the gateway skills they'll need to be successful in 8th grade and beyond, and summer school won't be a complete waste for them. Unfortunately, these kids think they know everything.

Being that it's been nearly 10 years since I've interacted with any 12 year-old students (yes, the last time I interacted with 7th graders, I was a 7th grader), I was frightened of how my lesson would go today. Overall, it went well given that it was my first time handling a classroom. The students listened and were engaged to some extent, and I have a very supportive cooperating teacher (who's already certified and has been teaching for several years) who was able to help me control them. I'm not a harsh disciplinarian at all, but my change of tone and my facial expressions seem to do me a lot of good. My students definitely are trying to gauge what kind of teacher I'll be, and I'm scared that my inexperience is blatant. I feel like I should try to provide my cooperating teacher with the support he needs when the students are disruptive during his lessons, but he doesn't really need it. Still, I'll spend my time in the corner with the misbehaving students so that they're uncomfortable and will pay attention, and this seems to work well enough.

Tomorrow, I'll be teaching the first hour again and helping the teacher out when he needs to deal with attendance, parent conferences, and other administrative issues. My goals for tomorrow are to avoid being overwhelmed while I'm on stage and learn the rest of the students' names. Big goals? You betcha.

After 3 weeks of living here, I must say the weekends have gotten progressively better:

6/13: Stepping in dog poop. Fail.
6/20: Spent some time wandering the East Village with some friends from college.
6/27: Caught up with my cousin, whom I hadn't seen in 5 years. Then, saw "The Hangover." Awesome.
7/4: Boyfriend visited. :D

It seems that I have to sandwich my long, PB&J (less-than-exciting) weekdays with some crazy awesome bread on the weekends. Okay, as crappy as that analogy may have been, it's the truth. This technique seems to work wonders though--I find it hard to believe that 3 weeks have already passed. But, it also feels like I've been living in this city for my entire life sometimes.

The weekdays have definitely gotten better. The people in the program are great, making my classes and commute much more fun than I would have expected. This week, I'll finally be working with students directly, but that means I'll be gone from my apartment from 6:55 AM until 7:15 PM on my longest days. Sometimes, it feels like this program is a nice little bubble that prevents me from having to deal with the real world. I have too little time to look for an apartment and I have such a different schedule from my boyfriend and friends on the West Coast that it's too difficult for me to keep in touch. Between talking to my old friends and my new friends, I have a hard time keeping track of all the details and what's happened to whom and what stories I've told.

I'm also not quite sure what I expected from a long-distance relationship. Before I left California, I didn't give it too much thought--of course we'll keep dating, why wouldn't we? After I left, I felt a little miserable for the first few days I lived here, but as soon as I got into a routine with the program, I just forgot all about how it was like to be with him. As terrible as it sounds, it seemed to be the only thing that would ease my mind. Spending the entire weekend undid all the so-called "progress" I had made, and I'm at a loss for what to do with myself yet again. Long distance is hard.