Please state your race: HUMAN race.

I have had two interviews at public schools in the Recovery School District in New Orleans and Baton Rouge, LA. BOTH interviews, my skin color was brought up. "How can you, as a young, caucasian female teach a population of predominantly African American adolescents?" I teach them! Our opposing melanin and skin pigmentations have nothing to do with the job at hand. These children need to learn. I WANT them to learn and excel and I have the enthusiam and passion for my subject as well as a strong will to make my potential students want to succeed that my skin color should not matter.

On a more positive note rather than the one of my impending doom of probably working at Walgreen's as a service clerk for the rest of my life since no one seems to want to hire a college graduate nowadays, I received a 4.0 in my 9 credit hours of graduate courses at Louisiana College. YAY for A's in grad school! Take that, Truman. You and your ridiculous standards. Or maybe Louisiana College has ridiculously low standards. Regardless. I got all A's. And wrote an excellent educational theorist analysis of Lev Vygotsky and got a 100%. WHAT.

I'd like to blog more often. I currently titled my blog "White Chocolate" to deal with my passive aggressive feelings for the Recovery School District right now, but I'm trying to come up with a creative title. Not than anyone really seeks out the angsty rantings of a prospective teacher with no hope of ever finding a job. EVER. But then again, some people might.
Now I just sound vain.
Anyway. The job search will continue until I get the job I want. Which may never happen. But that won't stop me from venting my true feelings on the internet for everyone to read.

Fun book I'm reading: "Year of Wonders" by Geraldine Brooks.
This book has been there for me through many-a-rough-time. Once, before I went to college I read it. I'll be honest--I didn't finish it. I then read it after Hugo and I broke up. Got me through a rough time, and made me feel better about my predicament. A boy was just a dick to me. At least St. Joseph or Kirksville wasn't infested with the black plague. Now, I am reading it in homage to my job search that is tirelessly in vain. And I'll be honest. I feel damn good when I read this book. I've always been sick like that.

I would also like to note that I realize I type in many sentence fragments. I re-read a bit of my post and was a bit appalled by the amount of sentence fragments.