While I was out dealing with cops and kids, everyone else in my course had already done that round of practice teaching, so they only had about an hour of school for 2 of the 4 weeks then the rest of the time was spent getting ready for our Departmental interviews and doing projects that needed to get done before Internship. I had to do all these things and teach at the same time. I was frantic. Everyone told me my Internship school would be a walk in the park compared to my last school and I lucked out by getting the nicest class in the school. My teacher was alright, he didn’t give me as nice of a report as I think I deserved, but that’s because he didn’t really watch me teach. It was good cause the class became mine and I really learned a lot, but bad cause then he only had the first few lessons of mine that he had critiqued to go off of when writing my final report. I really enjoyed the kids and the work and was ready for a class of my own. The staff at the school were all really great and would do anything to help any of us interns out. After our last day, they took us out to a bar. I wasn’t going to drink, but one of the young teachers (who’s husband happened to be my supervisor at the tough school) was like, “Meh, get drunk, I usually do” so I did and I was embarrassingly drunk and became emotional when I got home that night (and thankfully not at the bar!) and called S. I was just upset about my final report, especially after someone at the bar had told me that not everyone agreed with the final report either and didn’t think it reflected the effort or work I had done. So I was totally embarrassed when I saw S the next day. On top of that, I was a classy bitch and threw up on the train on the way down to his place. Luckily, I must have been psychic that day as I just happened to have thrown a barf bag and a juice box in my purse that morning!
Over the next few weeks, I got my Teacher Research Project done and had to present a portfolio to a professor and a peer justifying to them how I had achieved all of the teaching standards for NSW.
When that was all said and done, I threw myself a Mexican/Halloween/Graduation party at S’s house. It was a good night, I got most everyone super drunk ( I was still over drinking after throwing up on the train) and we had good food and a piñata and most people dressed up as a Mexican or at least Australia’s version of a Mexican or in some type of Halloween outfit. S was a cholo and I was a chola. I found a video on Youtube that was about applying makeup like a chola (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CR0PykHTYY) so I tried to follow it but I have no skills and it ended up looking pretty funny. I got a sharpie and drew “Thug Life” acrossed S’s knuckles, a heart that said Madre on it, and another tattoo on his arm or chest that said Brown Pride. He also had been growing a beard/mo combo for awhile and he shaved off the beard and came out looking sooooo dirty with just the mo!
I a) couldn’t afford to keep my room while I went back home and b) had decided I wanted to live on the Coast closer to S and c)wanted to try living on my own again so I moved out of Benny Boy’s apartment in November and made my way home to California.