Dreamy

In the last hour before it was time to get up, not only did Ollie come and pester me AT LEAST three times, I also had THIS dream:

I had woken up and gotten up and was waiting for Little Babykins to wake up.  Before he did, I had to finish writing the quiz that I would be giving that morning to the class I was TAing in as well as study for 2 tests in 2 of my own classes and finish an assignment that I hadn’t gotten to.

MEANWHILE, as I go to clean the litter boxes, I find that Ollie has peed some kind of gelatinous yellow goo all over the floor BECAUSE BOTH litter boxes are not only full to overflowing, they are so full that the litter has melted down into a highly disgusting litter/poop/cat pee mush.

I begin to let forth several choice words and IMMEDIATELY my mom, who is getting ready to leave and go back to her house and NOT helping me for some reason, she immediately starts scolding me because Miles has copycatted the words I just said and that will NEVER DO and what am I teaching that child?!

AND I realize that I will have to drop at least one class to be able to cope with all the things I have to do.

And then I woke up.

And was VERY relieved.

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Mrs FussyCrankypants Learns a Christmas Lesson. Maybe.

Like many other people across the country, the Fussy Crankypants engaged in the various rounds of holiday visitation, with greater and lesser results at each.

One morning, Mrs. Fussy Crankypants found herself breaking her fast with several male relatives, one of whom she was married to, one to which she gave birth, and several who share her DNA.

Upon offering gentle instruction to Mr. Fussy Crankypants in the most dulcet and mellifluous of tones, regarding the best way in which to brew the best cup of tea possible (a topic with which Mrs. FC is slightly familiar) given the circumstances of tepid water and one tea bag, Mrs. Fussy Crankypants suddenly found herself coming under a barrage of criticism from the males of the species who had, to speak metaphorically, circled their wagons at this perceived hint of the maligning of another male’s ego.

References were made regarding both the female population at large and Mrs. FC’s kindly self as well.  The solidarity of females in protecting their own against the males of the species is well know, but Mrs. FC would like to put it to you that a) when females remonstrate a lone male for his gaffe, there is always a good and sound reason for it and that the females are always right and b) the males of the species are just as bad, if not worse, given as it is, that their motivation is solely the protection of the all-too-tender male ego instead of benevolent instruction.

Mr. Fussy Crankypants did not exactly leap to Mrs. FC’s defense but knew well enough to refrain from joining the melee.  Mrs. FC’s tender education did not, in fact,  raise Mr. FC’s ire because he never listens to a word she says anyway is always open to learning new things.

Therefore, Gentle Reader, Mrs. FC enjoins you, when you find yourself in similar circumstances, to take to heart the bitter lesson that was inflicted upon Mrs. FC. If you find yourself surrounded by males, please bite your tongue, however much you long to be a guide to Better Things, for otherwise you yourself may suffer the retaliations that result from the wounding (or the perceived wounding) of that fragile of all things, the male dignity.

No Show

Dear Student,

You wrote to me TWO WEEKS after the end of the class, quite desperate to make up the final because obviously if you didn’t, you don’t pass the class. So I arranged to meet you last evening at 6 p.m. down at the school, which is 40 minutes from my house, after I worked all day.  There was also a teacher’s meeting scheduled for that time, not that I was required to go, but I thot that if I had to meet you, it might as well be good to kill 2 birds with 1 stone.

So why didn’t you come?  You had seemed quite sincere when you emailed me and quite grateful to have a chance to make the test up.  I’m certainly glad I didn’t make an extra trip just for you because would it have ended up the same?  I even checked my email before I left home to make sure you hadn’t cancelled.  I had to SIT THRU THE ENTIRE MEETING with its obligatory PowerPoint presentation and weak jokes!

I thought that you were a nice guy but that is really rude behaviour. I hope you feel ashamed of yourself. YOu have certainly taught me again the fact that being too nice really gets you nowhere except getting taken advantage of and having to endure boring meetings that are not relevant to you at this point in time.

Sincerely,

Your Former Teacher

It was the worst of times, it was the worst of times

Or: whatever can go wrong, will.

Last night were the presentations that my students had to give for class.  The presentation was a summary of a college class that they observed at some point during the semester.

I got a late start leaving for class; kept forgetting things like my book bag, my phone, etc., etc. So I got there about 3 minutes before class was supposed to start.  Note that I say ‘supposed to’.

When I got there finally, I found out that the Internet was down and so therefore I couldn’t print out the materials I had emailed myself that I needed for class.  So I had to cobble together some kind of semblence of scoring rubric to use since that was one of the things I had emailed.

And then my laptop was acting screwy and through the course of the evening had to be restarted twice, once during one student’s presentation. And my computer takes FOR EVER to start up. Hand-cranking could not be slower.

We didn’t actually start class until 25 minutes after the hour. By that time, I had come to the conclusion that actually hooking up the Powerpoint projector to my laptop and getting that set up would probably be yet another exercise in the evening’s futility so…skip Powerpoint projector. just use laptop (which had to be restarted).

At this point, one of the students walked in. He’d had to go home because he had emailed his presentation to himself and couldn’t access it but he also had computer problems and had to call his friend to access his email and print out the presentation and bring it to school for him, all of which involved several phone calls upon receiving which he would exit the classroom and come back in to report on the status…during the other students’ presentations.  And on top of that, all the students were supposed to have a typed copy of the notes they were using for the other students to look at but he did not because, as he said, ‘it would have taken too long’. !!! I had told the class AT LEAST three times they needed to do this. It was worth 1/3 of the presentation points. And when I give him a zero, I know he will argue (this is the guy who also asked me why I didn’t email him when the college class was cancelled (they had the info on how to check the college cancellations) or why I didn’t email his professor for him to ask about him observing. Hello! Are you a grown up?!)

The 3 women did fine (of course). The one guy I had to cut short because he was fixin’ to go on for about 1/2 hour (it was supposed to be 10 mins max).  And really, his production is not all the comprehendable; lots of straining to understand.

Then the guy who didn’t have his notes. He kept correcting the other student’s pronunciation. Errrrrgggg! You are not the teacher!!!

This is the way the class ends: not with a whimper, with a bang. 

Happiness is:

A Girl Scout fudge covered peanut butter cookie in one hand and a frozen dried persimmon in the other. And also, being able to walk to the antique mall and score fun finds on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

I’m afraid my life is dreadfully dull at this point. I have no clever stories with which to regale you. But let us all take a brief moment and reflect joyfully that this is my last week of teaching; to wit, tomorrow is my last day of class and Thursday is the final exam. And I’m going to take brownies to my students on the last day because I am The Best Teacher Ever, even though I complain about it.

P.S.: Troy is heading into a grueling 4-week CPA review class. I figure I’m going to sign up for a Chinese language class while he’s doing that (there aren’t any Korean classes offered).

And that’s it from Our Little Town, OH

Brief-Shmeef

Breif = 40 minutes. AND that damn Echoes program was on NPR on the way home. Insult to injury, insult to injury, I tell you.

Observe-obshmerve

I’m being observed tonight at class. It’s ok. I’m not really nervous or anything. But the thing about it is, we are supposed to have a ‘brief discussion’ about it after class. And that is what scares me. “Brief” for my coordinator could mean anywhere between 20 minutes to 45. He is just that really good at talking. Bleh. Next week is my last week. Why must I be tortured so???

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