Teaching (as a gerund)

So the other day I became internationally certified to teach English as a second/foreign language. Go ahead, ask me anything about grammar...gerunds, past participles, conditionals, any of the 12 verb tenses...oh wait, 13 with the "going to" form...I got it. I know it. And I'm ready to teach it.  But for some reason, even though this has been a longtime goal of mine, I don't feel accomplished or excited about passing the course. All I know is my "year of me" is about over, which means...Reality. Also, I just realized that a certificate is a certificate...and it really doesn't matter how well you do, as long as you get your stupid certificate. Four weeks in Florence without seeing the Statue of David because lesson plans are more important...was...a...mistake. But oh well.


Another taste of reality: I recently sent my resignation to my school district. This means I am "officially" unemployed...which, during these tough economic times, means I am "unoffically" crazy. Part of me can't believe I just quit my job, and part of me can't believe I did that job in the first place. I'm completely at peace with my decision, but that doesn't mean I'm not nervous about embarking into the unknown. I have some tentative plans to look for jobs teaching English, but I'm still uncertain about what I really, really, really want to do next.


Last night, in honor of our "graduation", Florence threw an enormous fireworks show over the Arno River. Coincidentally, it was also a huge holiday celebrating Saint John the Baptist. My roomie Roslyn and I hiked up the hill with our new friend Donald to watch the show from the steps of San Miniato al Monte. Beforehand, we had homeade pasta at Zeb's and then bought some wine to bring up to the churchsteps for the show. Only in Italy does the grocerystore clerk have a wine opener handy. It was a great way to celebrate the end of classes and the beginning of our next steps, whatever they may be.

Our celebratory fireworks show, in honor of us.