Professor Park!

I had my first day of teaching yesterday-- WHOOP WHOOP!! I felt like a rockstar. I got to the classroom more than an hour early, and photocopied like mad for a good 25 minutes, had my syllabus ready, had sign-up sheets, copies of David Sedaris' essay "Cyclops" from Naked, had outlines of a deconstructed reading on "Cyclops," distributed packets of poems by some of my favorite poets: Billy Collins, of course, Sandra Cisneros, Marilyn Hacker (who went to Bronx Science and was married to fellow Science-ite--the Afro-Am writer of Times Sq Red, Times Sq Blue Samuel Delaney, before they decided to have an open bisexual marriage and then they divorced and each started dating people of the same sex), Frances Chung (RIP), Vikram Seth, William Carlos Williams (the only physician/poet I ever met)... I felt so adult. Like, it could just be my ego talking, but I'd like to think these kids were looking up to me. I didn't feel young, at all, which was a big worry. They were all so sweet, and some of them read Tim O'Brien and Sedaris as well and ee cummings and Bill Bryson and... sigh. It felt really nice. At breaktime, I brought them some sweet and savory treats, then I made them sign up a sheet so they could rotate who brings in seminar break snacks (something we used to do at Swarthmore).

Oh, Annie, you would appreciate this-- one of my students is from Miami, so I said, my friend just moved there! She keeps talking about this place called Monty's. And the student was like, I LOVE Monty's! They have a great happy hour, they're on/in the Grove, and something about it being on a boat? Then she told me that if I visit you for spring break, I should fly into Ft Lauderdale instead to avoid the nonsense that is Miami International Airport.

And then another set of students were from Queens (Bayside) and Long Island (Garden City), and we talked about Roosevelt Field, and I asked them where was the best place to find parking in the mall (incidentally, it's by Nordstrom's).

I swear work was actually getting done during the 3 hour class.

Before I started teaching, my friend Alexis suggested I head to the BU bookstore to order books for the class. "Do it just for the ego boost," he said, as we were huffing along the indoor track in the gym. "You don't even need to order anything--just show up and then they sit you down and call you Professor. I totally made my day."

Indeed, it was. I didn't get all the way to the bookstore (which is in Kenmore Square, an 8min walk from my apt but it feels much longer when you're carting around a laptop, sneakers, and dirty gym clothes on your back all day). Instead, I called in to order a copy of Ron Carlson Writes a Story (a deconstructed look at a story in the making), and--true to Alexis' word--they called me Professor Park, and I felt so...professorial. Even when I wasn't wearing my blazer with suede elbow patches. I think EVERYONE should fake-order books from the university bookstore, just so that they can have the benefit of hearing their name being called out, with the "professor" prefix beforehand. I felt really good about myself.

Well, I am off to watch Mon night's episode of "How I met Your Mother" on CBS before I pass out and head to a Microsoft Excelt tutorial workshop tomorrow morning. For TWO HOURS. After that, I'm going to learn about Linux/Unix for 3 more 2-hr sessions. This is before my hip hop-LA style and rock climbing classes start next week. Go me!