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In fear of the inappropriate

I live in fear of being caught. Being caught being inappropriate. The incredible duplicacy of being. That’s not a word.

I’m an English teacher, still existing in that place where I’m a teacher first and a writer second. This is why I constantly second guess my writer self. My head’s not in the game. Well, not all the way in. There’s a birth reference in there, but I’m afraid of muscle-memory cramps, and I’m seriously too old for that.

Excuses, excuses.

Here’s the one about the English teacher… I could write some really fabulous things in blogs but I’m afraid of getting in trouble. What if one of my student’s parents finds this and reports me? I already wrote about cramps; what if my ramblings get worse? Tip for teachers: want to get reprimanded? Quote the stuff your students say as they file into the classroom. Yikes!

Ramblings, then, will have to focus on ways to be a better writer, so I can be a writer who teaches, and not the other way around. Then, the beauty will be in the duplicity (that is a word) of blog content also being useful for teaching. My students, for the most part,  aren’t good writers. Or, I’m sorry, they aren’t well writers.

They could use some of the tips that may one day appear here.

Hoping that inappropriate content is useful, and that appropriate content isn’t boring (too late!), I remain.

I’m not me.

Sometimes parts of songs stick with you forever. I can’t hear someone say, “If you go away,” without adding (or singing, sadly), “on a summer’s day, then you might as well, take the sun away…” Same goes for “Mama?” Yeah. Just killed a man.

The worst is “She did it.” It’s an Eric Carmen song and I’ve never known the words exactly, so when I hear “she did it,” I have to reply, “Walla malla she did it ahyaa-aa.” It’s right up there with “Daniel’s driving tonight on a plane.” That’s just how I heard it in the seventies, people.

Brings me to today’s post: I’m not me. Or, more lyrically, “I’m not Lisa. My name…is Julie.” Well, it’s Joo-ooly.

I’m not Kaylee. My name… is… well, it’s not Kaylee. She’s my pseudonym. Of course, pseudo = fake and nym = name. Even better is the boiling down of medieval. Medi, like in medium; ev, like in evolution – it means “age”; and al, a suffix that means “pertaining to”. So, backwards, medieval means “pertaining to the age middle.” Why do I love that? And how great is a blog that I can write that rather than say it to people who look at me like I’m from Mars? I see you. But I’m not me, anyway. And I’m not from Mars, I’m from California. Same thing? That’s another post entirely.

Why do I write under a pseudonym? See previous post. Apparently, fear rules my life.