I am (not) sexy

This morning at 6:00am, I got up and went to the bathroom. While there, I examined the cuffs of my new Windstopper fleece that I bought for the Kili trip.



I was feeling happy about the stitching and construction and other aspects of design such as the cute little tab in the back. Then I realized that I should not be able to see behind my own head and that I should not be wearing my new fleece jacket at all since I ordered this lovely new jacket only three days ago, so it has not yet arrived. Also, admiring its cuffs and tabs would be impossible for another reason: I would never wear a fleece jacket to bed. Want to know what Nina sleeps in? It's the second reason I am not sexy:




Anyway there I was, in mid-realization that I was not awake.. and that since I was dreaming about peeing, I might actually be, in real life, peeing.

So I hurled myself out of bed and onto the floor, where I examined my situation and all related clothing items for any evidence of a flood. There was none. But gosh I felt stupid and when I climbed back in bed, I said a short intercessory prayer (you know I don't do those anymore) that I could get back to sleep and NOT dream about peeing or having to pee. And you know what? I couldn't get back to sleep anyway and I spent the whole day, in my nightgown, working on my budget to see if there would be any slight possible way I could cut back on work in the fall. That's right: working on my budget, in my nightgown, with my hair up and my glasses on.

You know you want me.

Have a good weekend.

Collapse

I got done with classes on Tuesday and fell apart. Aside from eating cheese, watching Arrested Development and Reno 911, I have done nothing at all. Except sleeping. I did do a fair amount of that.

Today I got up (late, of course), made coffee, ate half a bagel, and surveyed the damage. My apartment looks like a homeless person has been squatting here for the last six months. So that you understand what my apartment normally looks like, take a look:



Perhaps let's not show you what my place looks like right now. Let's just not do that.

Oh, ok. Here is a close up of a tiny portion of the rug, pre-vacuum.



Yeah. I am gross.

So this afternoon I clean and do laundry and then head out for a meeting at 4:30. Then tomorrow, work out like a crazy person. Crazy. Person.

Have a Thursday.

Teeth

My dad had all his teeth removed today. Most people who do this are getting dentures because their teeth are old and cruddy. Not so in the case of my dad.

Oh wait.

Depending on your definition of old, he might be. He is 68. It is a miracle that he is still with us. The other part is that his teeth are cruddy, but it is not because he failed to brush and floss. Chemotherapy weakened the enamel on his teeth and they are (were) not performing. The last time I saw him (two weeks ago) his teeth were literally falling out over stressors no more serious than a nacho.

This is no way to live.

So my brave and humble dad told his dentists to give him biters that would actually work. Today, it happened. He has $30,000 worth of permanent new fake teeth. Is that dentures? I don't even frikkin' know. But I do know how I would feel if I had someone remove all my teeth with the "idea" that some new biters would be installed in their place. (Not happy, and a lot scared). My dad is the bravest and the loveliest guy who ever lived. I was about a year old when this picture was taken. He is every bit as handsome now as the day this was taken.



I'll be crying over here in the corner until tomorrow. With my cupcake. (Oh dammit I already ate it).

See you tomorrow.

Can I get an amen?

Behold, dear reader, the last cupcake:



Today is the last day of the organized paper cutting, thumb-screwing, grade bribing, soul-deflating semester. Today.

I liberated myself from my office at 3:05pm and went directly to Magnolia for the last cupcake I will see until August 27th, when I return home from Africa.

Anyone who would a daily email detailing my workouts, my diet (including a full break down of micro and macro nutrients), and my pain level can email me at readerwritesmith@gmail.com. I am determined to get back in shape. I am determined to summit. And if you want to know, I am willing to tell all... down to the last scrap of wheat germ.

I love you. And love is all that matters.

Gear check

Bibi spent $518.33.

Sri spent $477.75.

Nina spent $219.87.

Of course, Nina still has to buy $100 more worth of wind-stopper fleece and a few more layers of whatever, so in the end I will about catch up to Sri. Then we will be basically set for Kilimanjaro. Now all that remains to be done is work out like crazy people, which we did right after we spent all that money. Then we went out and did... guess what we did? Same thing we always do after we work out: had a few drinks. I guess it was different in that we played bar trivia in the meantime.

Guess whose real name is Juan Rodriguez?

(A-Rod).

See you tomorrow.

This week's crimes

1) I drank too much

2) I ate nachos

3) I spent an enormous amount of money on climbing gear

4) I ran into someone with my boob again

5) I flirted with a guy in a bar (see item 1)

6) I thought about making out with the guy in the bar (but did not)

7) I yelled at my cat (he bit me)

8) I lusted for chocolate (a clear sign of dementia)

9) I hated my students

10) I didn't call my step-mother today


Pray for me. Gracias.

Yesterday

I hate my job at Panic so much that it would be difficult to write about it in even a slightly amusing way. Some quotes from my students yesterday might explain it better.

"Since we are in law school, I thought I would write my paper on how to bribe people. You know, because that might be illegal. Oh, and I'll give you a case of Vitamin Water if you give me a C."

Reader, I do not work at a law school. No! Also, the Vitamin Water is delicious and that fool is still failing my class.


"I had to skip history class to meet with you because even though I knew you'd be here later, I didn't want to miss my place in line."

Reader, I emailed the history department head and explained that history absences are not to be excused, and definitely not due to a student having a meeting with me. My students then claimed that I 'told' on them.

"I don't understand why I have to do all this work for a B. I high school I didn't do anything and I got Bs. What do you think this is?"

... college.

"Miss, why do you have to be like that? I don't have time to write this paper over again and my mom will kill me if I don't get an A."

I am definitely not giving you and A and I hope your mom kills you and goes to jail and doesn't have any more babies.

It'll be over soon. One more week.

Pray for me.

Might as well

I was trying to send Bibi a text message and I had the shakes and hit the camera icon, and I might as well show you.



This is what three hours of bouldering look like.

75%

What's that, you say?

Is it the average grade of my spring semester students?

Sadly, no. That number falls somewhere around 63%.

But I am 75% done grading rewrites and calculating grades. Forgive me if I don't jump up and down and act all excited, but I am just too tired. I am going to the gym tonight and then I will deal with students all day tomorrow and then Friday will arrive and I will curl up into a little tiny ball and start rocking.

Oh and don't even get me started about the number of students who tried to turn in late papers yesterday. Eight. And so I had to so no, eight times, to people who would wish me to believe that because I like them more than everyone else, naturally I would make an exception.

Naturally, I did not because it is not in my nature to announce (in writing) a No Late Papers Ever policy - and then not enforce it.

I am not fun anymore, I know. But if you hang around long enough, maybe I will be again. Someday. Maybe even 75% fun.

Notify the authorities

I got up and ate breakfast today. Seriously, I did. Just like a normal person who doesn't have thousands of papers to grade. How did I accomplish this?

1) Yesterday, during a twenty minute paper grading break, I went to the grocery store.

2) This morning, when I woke up at 6:30 (a bit early for me) I did not go back to sleep.

3) Instead I woke up and made coffee. Oh my God.

4) Then I ate plain non-fat yogurt, a tablespoon of wheat germ, and five almonds.

I think this is what they call being a normal human being who puts needs of self before needs of miscreants who can't be bothered to spell their own names correctly.

Of course, the fifteen minutes that I took to do something for myself this morning will probably result in a day chock full of sneering miscreants, but I do not regret my choice. I feel sort of human. I like it.

Normal post up tomorrow. Unless I choose to neglect you by continuing my selfish trend of eating breakfast. Who knows?

Student email

This is why I regularly want to pitch myself out the window. Oh wait. This is why I regularly want to shove my students off of cliffs into a fiery abyss.

Professor,

Just wondering when the grades were going to be up , If a student doesn't pass your course and has to wait like I have all summer eng are full , getting grades in your course is like pulling teeth , this isn't the only course that I have taken but by far it is the most difficult to get my grades, Last time you emailed me you said Monday and here it is none of my grades are posted an I am off to work and wont have a chance to see them until tomorrow and hopefully can get an eng course so that my degree isn't delayed but just this course. The effort is on the students to pass but the teacher is expected to grade the papers in a timely manner.

XXX.

Here is what I wrote back. To XXX.



XXX,

You have not received feedback in a timely manner not because I have not been reading papers, but because you did not follow the directions and submit your papers in the right file type. All semester I received papers from you that I could not open. The course orientation and the contract you agreed to clearly state that all files are to be in .doc format, or I can’t read them. This requirement is in line with Sweet Little College policy as well. Please also note that most English teachers read ONE draft of a paper and the student has to live with the grade, whatever it is. I reread papers constantly to help students get better grades. As a result, I now have an entire semester’s worth of papers to grade in less than two weeks. Is it surprising that it would take me a little bit of time to accomplish that?

I am truly sorry that you are frustrated, but I am doing the best I can. Call me if you want to discuss this further.

Professor Nina



I might have been too nice. Or not. I have lost all perspective. What do you think?

Sin of the week, 5/4/08

The worst thing I did this week was be culturally insensitive and not care at all about it.


One of my students asked me what I was doing for summer vacation, and I mentioned that I was going to Africa.

"Oh, that's great," she replied. "You must be going over there to do relief work. What a great idea!"


"Oh," I said. "Yeah, I guess it's great. Yeah."

"So, what kind of work will you be doing? The math teacher is going to dig a well in a village in Kenya. It's so awesome!" she said.

"Oh," I said. "I, um, I am going to be bringing clothing* over there for, um, the mountain people in Tanzania."

"Clothing?" she said.

"Yeah. The don't have enough warm clothing up there."

"Africa is really hot, right?"

"Well yeah, but the mountains are colder. And stuff."


My student then figured out that I am just a smarmy American tourist with sporting ambitions and relatively little interest in the welfare of African people. And I felt shabby.


Shabby is what I am.

Get ready for Monday. It's on its way.

*We leave our gear behind when climbing in impoverished countries. The local guides can use it and we can get more at home. (But I am still shabby).

My library

Well, yes, this is the "before" picture. One of the first things I am going to do when this megazord of grading is over is clean out filing cabinet and my book closet in an attempt, once again, to free up some space. Between me and that project... a sea of papers to grade.

Oh wait. I already complained about that. Sorry.

See you tomorrow.

Yes or no

I was over at LizB's place yesterday, and I saw this:

YES/NO GAME RULES ARE AS FOLLOWS:

You can only say yes or no. You are NOT ALLOWED to explain ANYTHING unless someone messages you and asks!

Over 18? Yes
Danced in front of your mirror naked? No
Ever told a lie? Yes
Been arrested? No
Kissed a picture? Yes
Fallen asleep at work/school? Yes
Held an actual snake? Yes
Have YOU Ever run a red light? Yes
Ever drink and drive? Yes
Been suspended from school? No
Ever been fired from a job? Yes
Totaled a car/motorbike in an accident? No
Sang karaoke? No
Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? Yes
Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? Yes
Ever laughed until you wet yourself? YNo
Caught a snowflake on your tongue? Yes
Kissed in the rain? Yes
Sang in the shower? No
Sat on a rooftop? Yes
Thought about your past with regret? Yes
Been pushed in the pool with your clothes on? No
Shaved your head? No
Blacked out from drinking? Yes
Had a gym membership? Yes
Been in a band? No
Shot a gun? Yes
Liked someone with nobody else knowing about it? Yes
Played strip poker? No
Been to a strip joint? No
Donated Blood? Yes
Liked someone you shouldn't? Yes
Have a tattoo? No
Have or had any piercings besides ears? No
Made out with a complete stranger? No
Caught someone cheating on you? No
Skinny dipped? No
Regret any of your ex's? Yes
Been to a rodeo? Yes
Been to a NASCAR race? Yes
Been in Love? Yes

Maybe I should get naked more often.

Have an excellent weekend. And thank you for reading.

Splainin'

Recently I made some hateful comments about how I didn't want any more stupid people to be born because the world seems to have an ample supply. Many of you thought this was heartless for me to say and some of you thought, I am sure, that since I am stupid myself, I injured the cause of my own kind by suggesting there should be fewer of us. Whatever.

Let me splain why I had that little tantrum about stupidity.

I have a student - not the first in my career - who spells his name four different ways, depending on his mood. He also writes his papers in text language, but that is another complaint entirely. So that I don't sound like I am singling out any ethnic or social group by way of splainin', I will use the name of a famous person who is most assuredly not attending college to make my point. To prove I am not even ganging up on men-folk, I will choose a woman's name.

The name shall be: Angelina Jolie.

Now, if you have an "Angelina Jolie" in your class, like I do, you expect that your Angelina Jolie will have nickname. Good. Let's say it is "Angie." Excellent! Let's rule in the possibility that Angelina, sometimes known as "Angie," will sometimes type "Angie Jolie" in the heading of her papers because she would assume I would know, based on the last name and my knowledge of her casual moniker, to whom the paper belonged. To whom the paper belonged!

Not so!

During the semester, I collected six formal papers from Angelina. On the first paper, she spelled her name:

Angelina F. Jolie. (Cool! She has a middle name!)

On second paper, she spelled her name:

Angie Farina J. (Huh. I wonder if this is Ms. Jolie?)

On her third paper, she spelled her name:

Angelina Farina Jolio (Oh shit. I wonder if this is the same person as Angie Farina J?)

On her fourth paper, she spelled her name:

Angelina Q. Jolio-Farina. (What the FUCK?)

Fifth paper?

Angie Jolie (Wow. It's almost clear to me who this is.)

Sixth paper:

Angelinina J. (Who the fuck is this?)


So when I returned her portfolio the other day, I asked, "What is your name, seriously?"

She replied, "Yo, miss, it's Ange."

"Really? No Angie? No second syllable?"

"Whatever, it's Ange."

"Ok. Look at all the ways you spelled your name this semester. Why did you do that?" I was a bit snappish.

"I was just keepin' things fresh."

"Really?" said I.

"I got to go," replied Angelina, Ange, Angie, and Farina Q Jolininio.

WHATEVER.

And then I had a breakdown and I begged Jesus to just make it stop.


And that's all the splainin' this "miss" is gonna do.

Happy Thursday.