Why grade essays when you can wander around town?

Top to bottom:

1. Mostly bright yellow house, Columbus (Ga.) Historic District
2. "Pink like a whorehouse" house, Columbus (Ga.) Historic District
3. Another historic home with gorgeous front porch and fantastic plantings--same area as 1 and 2
4. Kitty in front of historic home (where our friends Chip & Rocky once lived) on corner of Broadway and 7th Avenue. It was evidently a spayed feral cat, as the tip of her left ear was clipped off. Very friendly and sweet. I'm a cat magnet.

I mean, really--why grade essays when there's interesting stuff to do?

Instead of sitting home and grading all day, I went with Mom to RiverFest in Columbus, Georgia, this afternoon; we'd meant to go yesterday, but didn't get around to it. Once upon a time, Mom lived in the Historic District of Columbus, where the fair is held, so when we weren't looking at arts and crafts or eating wonderful food, we were looking at older homes that had been rehabbed. Mom was amazed at how the neighborhood had come up since the early 1980s. It was a really, really good time--we got a lot of exercise, ate BBQ, and saw beautiful arts & crafts.

The brightly-painted houses were fantastic--though I loved the yellow one, the bright pink one is my inspiration. It hasn't "come up" quite as much as the others on its street, and it has out front a Harley-Davidson, a bunch of old water pumps and other junk, and a slightly overgrown yard. (I have an old toilet in the back yard I'd love to fill with flowers and put in the front yard.) I let Mom know this is the color we'll be painting the Happy Kitten Cottage once I have the money to get rid of the awful vinyl siding and replace it with paintable HardieBoard siding. "It'll look like a whorehouse," she said. "Maybe I want my house to look like a whorehouse!" I replied. "OK, as long as you can handle it when old lady A. sends City Code Enforcement after you." Then Mom reconsidered. "Well, I guess that'd give the old biddy something to worry about, wouldn't it?"

I don't think the city can cite me for painting my house whorishly pink. Or can they? Heh.

Funny trip pictures

Sorry it's taken me almost a week to post these. I'm a slacker.

Top to bottom:

1. Cover of a 1966 album by The Mamas and the Papas. Please note apostrophe mistakes--Mama's and Papa's what? The Colonel was incredulous that I was even photographing it. "I haven't seen you in four months, and you're taking pictures of a CD cover?" But that's still his hand holding it up. I asked him, "How does it feel to know that the punctuation on this album cover was incorrect when you first bought the vinyl copy 40 years ago?" The ugly look he gave me said it all.
2. Sign in Dickson County, Tennessee. Watch out for those slow churches. They're not as [ahem] quick as others...
3. Sign along US Highway 431, Cleburne County, Alabama--talk about redundant. I made a special effort to whip the car around so I could take a shot of this one. I'd love to get a can of red spray paint and change it to "Jewish Baptist Church" or "Muslim Baptist Church." Just because.

Insurance papers and strange wording

My new homeowners' insurance packet arrived in the mail today, and I noticed some funny wording as I was reading the payment instructions:

Please notify our office immediately if the above address is incorrect or if you should move.

I know what's meant by this wording. If the address they have on here is wrong, or if I move, I need to let them know ASAP.

But I can't help being a smarty-pants: "Please notify our office immediately...if you should move." Yes, I should move. I should do a lot of things. Do I still have to let them know?

More tacky church signs than you can thump a Bible at!

Thanks to SpookyRach for pointing me in the direction of

Crummy Church Signs

which made me laugh my butt off. Man, the signs on there are priceless! The guy who runs CCS also has a "Map of Crumminess" to indicate the states from which he's received the most submissions. Not surprisingly, Alabama is one of the top states for crummy church signs.

Thanks for brightening my day, SpookyRach! I sure needed that.

There was one church sign on the way up to Tennessee that I was going to photograph, but I think the church has changed both denominations and preachers. [sigh] But I'll be posting some more crazy photos from the trip when I get home this afternoon. There were a couple funny ones here and there, and I forced the poor Colonel to pull over and let me hop out to take pix. He still doesn't get the camera phone thing. Maybe that's because I haven't sent him any risque pictures from it yet...

Another lovely "Christian" sign from our friends at Cross Road

Lest we forget, God also replaces:

• the ignorant with the informed
• the prideful with the humble
• the religious with the spiritual
• the hateful with the loving
• dairy milk with soy milk
• regular coffee with Taster's Choice
• the old with the new
• the Pharisee with...well, just about anybody
• the creationist-cum-Social Darwinist with the person who actually knows his/her ass from a hole in the ground.

To quote one of my favorite bumper stickers: Jesus disliked the righteous in his time, too.

Wonder what they were thinking when they put up this veritable nugget of wisdom? ["Southern hypocrite" voice] "Whut's 'at chew say? 'God helps those who help themselves' ain't a Bible verse?"

Comment away, y'all.

Welcome to Dumbassville, population: me.

Last night, I was so excited to have made some real food for supper--I had Shake-n-Bake chicken and cheese-garlic biscuits to go with field peas (a Southern staple--are they even available anywhere else?) and shells-n-cheese, and I had leftovers a-plenty so I could have a nice homemade lunch today. Hooray! I wouldn't have to eat ramen noodles in my office or traipse over to the Student Center cafeteria for a soggy wrap!

Naturally, I awoke late this morning, and left my wonderful homemade lunch in the fridge.

[sigh] It's only Thursday? I've been feeling like Monday all week long. Or, in the words of John Prine, "just like Sunday on Saturday afternoon."

Monday is the last day of classes at D2U, thank God. On my desk is a two-inch-thick stack of papers to grade by Monday. I'm in my Little Engine that Could mode now: I think I can, I think I can, I think I can... It always helps me push through the last killer weeks of the semester.

I've been sitting in my office since 8:20am, and only one student has come by. I may well cut out of here way early today. Clark needs a vet checkup--the old bladder's still not quite back up to snuff--and I'm not sure I'll have many more students coming by.

The funny thing is that those who really, really need help have been conspicuously absent from my office hours. Right now, I'm looking at giving out quite a few Ds and Fs. But those students who so desperately need my help haven't even been within sniffing distance of my office this week. I don't know why this still surprises me, but it does. Maybe I just can't understand it, having been a pretty good student in college.

Too good not to post...

This isn't education-related, but I thought the good people out in E&P-land needed to see this. I'm forwarding it to the Colonel right away.

Courtesy of Christina Shuford.

Clark update #5: Not so fast...

So much for daily poetry and education-related posts, huh?

Early this morning, Clark's problems acted up again. I gave him his Baytril at 6:55am, whereupon he immediately jumped in the litter box, peed for 1.2 seconds, yowled, then jumped out and began licking his privates again. Poor fella.

Mom's stopping by my house to check on Clarky while I'm stuck here at D2U in what is proving to be an absolutely interminable week. If we go simply by how I'm feeling, it should've been Friday two days ago. I'm hoping to hear from Mom that Clark's doing better when she stops in to visit. This afternoon was going to be more conferences with students, but I got word yesterday that a student has been hospitalized after a suicide attempt, so I think I'm going to go visit her. (More on this student later.)

I hope everyone else's day is going well. If I survive this week, it'll for sure be a miracle.

Clark update #4: The Big Guy is home!

At last, my Pie has returned home, happy as can be to see Mama and the other kitties (very little hissing and spitting, thankfully) and his house again. And the vet bill wasn't anywhere near as awful as I thought it was going to be. Whew.

I'll post photos later, when he settles back down. Right now, he's too busy to make any cute poses for the camera--just running around the house like he's in the Daytona 500. I guess a week in a little cage at the vet's office will do that to a kitty.

We're in what I'm calling a "watchful waiting" period; I think I must've stolen that from WebMD. Dr. R asked me to make sure that Clark's peeing without trouble tonight, and then leave her a message in the morning. If everything goes well for the next 24 hours, we should be okay with just coming back in for a check-up in ten days or so. For now, he's on low-magnesium food (currently Iams) , a dose of Baytril twice a day, and 300mg of Cosequin mixed with moist food once a day. Joy, my other FUS kitty, is already on Cosequin, so this will be nothing new for our daily feeding routine.

More later. So much to do for classes! It's driving me nuts.

Clark update #3

The Four Stages of Lonely Clark, top to bottom:

1. Mamaitssogoodtoseeyoooooou, I'mgonnapace-pace-paceinthefloor! [Mercedes diesel purr-purr-purr]
2. Ooh! If I get up on the exam table, you can pet meeeee! [Cummins PowerStroke V-8 diesel purr-purr-purr]
3. Hey, what's that in your hand? Oh, the camera phone! [Caterpillar D11 diesel purr-purr-purr]
4. Camera-schmamera! Mamapetmesomemore--OOF! [Peterbilt engine-brake-on-7%-downhill-grade diesel purr-purr-purr]

In between D2U and SBCC this afternoon, I drove up to the vet's office to visit my poor bladder-beleaguered Clark. He's doing much, much better--thank you to all of you offering your thoughts and prayers and get-well wishes! Dr. R and Dr. S took out the catheter this morning, and he was able to pee without trouble all day. They're still keeping a close eye on him and are hoping he'll be able to go home Tuesday afternoon. Dr. R told me to give them a call tomorrow mid-afternoon to see how Gen. Clark's doing; if he's still able to pass urine and isn't having any more stones passing, then he can come home.

I haven't even seen the vet bill yet; I'm certain it won't be pretty. (You'd figure that since Gen. Clark's a former Supreme Allied Litterbox Commander, the VA would pick up at least part of the tab. Hmph.) But I take heart knowing that 1) since I've been a client at my vet's for several years now, they'll work out payment over a couple months, if need be; and 2) if there's any kitty who's worth the money, it's my Clark E. Pie.

But you know me--I think they're all worth saving. I'd have 50 cats, if I had the resources.

The other kitties don't know what to do with themselves since Senor Pie's been gone for almost a week. DeeDee and Lewis mostly sleep in the recliner or kitty-bark from the windowsill at the goldfinches at the feeder. They're "bored, bored, bored," to steal a line from a Chekhov play. It'll be very interesting to see what happens when Clarky comes home, and the butt-sniffing begins anew, and the chain of command gets re-worked.

A big hearty thank you again to everyone out there wishing Pie well. I'll keep you up to date on his condition.

To blog, or not to blog...

http://www.slate.com/id/2140095/nav/tap1/
Slate: "This Is My Last Entry: Why I Shut Down My Blog"

Great article on how blogging was keeping the article's author from writing her own book...and keeping her from fulfilling her potential as a writer. It's interesting, to say the least.

And, coincidentally, I heard an article on NPR last fall about why a commentator refused to blog...

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=5011526
NPR: Taking a Pass on the Blogging Bandwagon

Amy Alexander talks in this commentary about how she wants to get paid to write, and how she doesn't see how she'd be helping herself toward that goal if she were to do it for free on a blog. As someone who knows what it's like not to have a lot of extra money, I can see what she's talking about from a purely financial viewpoint. However, she forgets that practice is what makes a good writer, and you have to do a whole helluva lot of it before you're good enough to get paid to do it. When I was a professional actress, I kept thinking that I'd get "discovered" any day, that I was just biding my time until fame and fortune would arrive. I got more and more frustrated as time went by and I kept getting parts in community-theatre shows that weren't very good. My acting teacher told me, "You have to act for free for a long, long time until you get to the point where you're good enough to get paid to act." It sounded like such bullshit, but it's true for more metiers than acting. Any creative endeavor works this way: painting, sculpting, photography, music, writing, et cetera.

So I'm happy to be able to write every day and occasionally make people laugh. It helps my other writing get better and better.

"Rave on, catshit! Somebody'll cover ya up!"

That was just one of the Colonel's many hilarious sayings this weekend. We had been to the supermarket to get some provisions Friday night when another driver began tailgating and trying frantically to get around our car in the parking lot. Suddenly, the Colonel--who is always funny in his road rage and doesn't mean to be--leaned out the window and shouted, "Rave on, catshit! Somebody'll cover ya up!" and then whipped the car into the parking space. I almost couldn't get out of the passenger seat, I was laughing so hard.

"You've never heard that one?" he asked.
"Dear God, no!" I was still doubled over and wiping away tears. "Where did you get it?"
He couldn't quite remember. When you spend 28 years in the Army, you accumulate a lot of crazy sayings that nobody else has ever heard.

So that's my new phrase. I'm going to find a way to say it to someone, somewhere, this week.

Last time I visited him, my Colonel-inspired phrase was, "If it was up your ass, you'd know where it was!" As in:

"Colonel, I can't find my canteen. Where's my canteen?"
"Well, Cadet Smith, if it was up your ass, you'd know where it was."

I couldn't find a way to use that one at work--only in telling my friends and family about how hilarious the Colonel had been.

It was a really, really nice weekend--a change of scenery was just what I needed. I always enjoy driving up to the Great Hillbilly Yonder. North Alabama and Tennessee are just beautiful this time of year. We went riding around the countryside, had a picnic, did a little sightseeing, listened to the sounds of nature, cooked meals at home...the Colonel even indulged my love of the Weather Channel, tolerating my lightly snoozing in front of the TV with "Weekend Edition" playing softly and "Local on the 8s" every ten minutes, with the Muzak version of Sting's "If I Ever Lose My Faith in You" as the weather-music. If that ain't love, I don't know what is.

It was a great weekend, and way too short. Hopefully, we'll be able to repeat it in a couple of weeks, when most of my classes are done and I have a between-semesters break.

Clark is better--thank you to all you sweet folks who posted your get-well wishes! He's off of sedatives, wearing a clown collar, and peeing OK out of the catheter. Dr. S & Dr. R are going to see whether he can go without it on Monday. I'm going to visit him Monday afternoon in between D2U and SBCC classes, and I'll update you then.

I found Clark on Clark Street in my town in May 2004--just named him after where I picked up his skinny, wormy, badly-broken-front-paw self. I took him to the vet shortly thereafter, where a fellow client commented, "Clark? You must've named him after General Wesley Clark [who had been campaigning for the Democratic presidential nomination]!" I replied that I hadn't, but it sure was a nice touch. After this, the Colonel and I nicknamed Clark "General Clark E. Pie, Supreme Allied Litterbox Commander." (Gen. Clark, you'll recall, was Supreme Allied NATO Commander during the Clinton Administration.) The nickname kind of stuck. When he phones me, the Colonel always asks, "So how's General Clark?"

The Colonel, let it be known now, is not at all a fan of Donald Rumsfeld and wants to see the guy gone yesterday. The way the current Iraq war's been waged--well, the current Iraq war period--does not sit well with him; he's a Vietnam veteran and told me when it all began three years ago, "I've seen how this ends, and it is not pretty. This is where we were with McNamara and that bunch of yahoos 40 years ago." So when I sat down in his living room with a cocktail in hand Friday night, this conversation ensued...

COL: So, has General Clark E. Pie come out and called for Rumsfeld's resignation yet?
ME: Yeah--I printed out a picture of Rummy, and he peed on it.
COL: That makes seven retired generals calling on him to resign!

Clark update #2

I have no Clarky-Pie, and won't until Monday at the earliest. Dr. R just called to let me know he's intermittently better, then worse; he's still passing lots of gravel out of his bladder. Doc says it's undoubtedly cheap Wal-Mart brand food, which is high in magnesium, that's caused all the trouble. So we're switching over to Iams or Science Diet, which are both low in magnesium. No expense is too great when it comes to making my kitties healthy and comfortable.

El Pie is currently sedated with a catheter in to help pass the stuff. I imagine all the sand in the ureter is painful as hell. I asked Dr. R, "Do you think he's going to make it?" She said that yes, he was going to live, but would have serious kitty lifestyle changes.

So please keep those fingers and toes and eyes and paws crossed for Clark. I'll keep you posted.

4/20: National Empty Classroom Day

Yesterday, I was filling in the 10am D2U class on due dates and turn-in procedures for their research papers and portfolios. (Friday and all of next week are 100% office hours, so students can come by at their convenience to discuss their papers.) So I began writing on the board while explaining: "OK, I'm going to have office hours Friday, [scribble-scribble] which is [scribble] 4/21..." and heard giggles. I turned around, rolling my eyes. "No, no, you should be recovered enough by 4/21, after [scribble, point at board] 4/20." Then everyone began laughing outright.

NPR: It's 4/20. Where Are All My Co-Workers?

When NPR runs a commentary on the pot-smoker's High Holy Day, you know something's afoot. Either 1) NPR has a good sense of humor, or 2) everybody at NPR smokes weed.

Or maybe it's both. Though I'd never imagined Carl Kasell or Terri Gross or Robert Siegel firing up a doobie...

When the laughter in my classroom had subsided yesterday morning, I let them know that if they had any questions, they could always e-mail me on Thursday. "Don't worry--you won't hear from us tomorrow," one young lady said, to everyone else's delight. I replied, "I'm glad for once that I don't have Tuesday/Thursday classes, because I know for sure I'd have an empty room tomorrow." They all laughed and agreed.

Wish I had sound-link capabilities on this blog. I'd have a Bob Marley tune playing as you read along.

I wonder how many students truly are going to play hooky today expressly to smoke a fat one? Someone should do a study to gauge national college attendance rates on April 20 as compared with the rest of the year. I'll e-mail a couple of my colleagues and ask them whether they noticed attendance dropping off today. But come to think of it, attendance has sloooowly been dropping off for the last month. We have about ten days left in the semester, and many of my students have wisely saved their absences for the very end. (I had eight of 16 in the 8am class Wednesday morning.)

No, I will not be lighting one up. That stuff makes me way too paranoid. Besides, I have too much shit to get done before Friday to be walking around all day absolutely positive that the birds in the trees are really chirping about the stoned expression on my face.

Clark update

At 8:15 this morning, I was already busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest when I got a call from my veterinarian. "I sure am glad you brought Clark in when you did!" she said. "His ureter was partially blocked! We were able to clear the plug from the end of his penis [!!!!!], and a lot of sand and gravel came out. So he's going to be here at least until Friday; call us Thursday and get an update. Again, I'm glad you brought him in when you did--he was about to be one sick fella!"

So my poor Clarky-Pie had a blocked-up weenie. Hell, no wonder he looked so unhappy. He's the second cat of mine in six months to have bladder/urinary problems. Everyone's on distilled water; only Joy is on special low-magnesium food and medicine. So this may mean that everyone goes on special food. I really, really hope that this is a one-time happening for the Pie. FUS (Feline Urological Syndrome) is hell on kitties--like kidney stones are for people. On a related note, my Lovin' Tub of Grey-Tabby Goo now weighs 14.1 pounds. He should weight about nine pounds. I don't imagine the extra weight is helping matters any.

Please keep Clark in your thoughts and prayers. I'll keep you posted.

This is scary.

Today's horoscope is, again, strangely on cue...

Dear Scorpio: Not every day is meant to be earth-shattering. You may find yourself wanting some fizzy feeling that just isn't there right now. Breathe deeply, relax and consider the ebb and flow of it all. Do something good for your health in preparation for the exciting times to come! Drink water, plan your meals ahead of time[...]or do a little exercise. Don't despair - the good times are just around the corner!

I guess it can't be random all the time...right?

This chaps my ass.

A few of my long-ago students still e-mail me from time to time. One student, who was in my very first Tiny Tech class waaaay back in '99, now lives in middle Tennessee, where there were several F3 tornadoes a couple weeks ago that killed a dozen people. Here's the e-mail forward she sent me. I've changed the identifying details.

Dear friends and family,
Everyone has heard of the recent disaster that struck our county this past weekend. Many people have lost everything, escaping with only the clothes on their backs. We have one family that we know of that is in need of many prayers, and what better way to accomplish that than to send one out to all of you and ask that you forward it to all of your contacts. _______ is a fireman in Some Little Town, TN and a volunteer baseball coach for our So-and-So league here in Somethingville, TN. His wife and two children were home when the storm hit. As the tornado approached their home, she covered the kids with her body to sheild them as their entire house fell. The house is totally gone. _____ and the children were sent to the hospital. Both children have been released and are now with their dad. _____, however, is still in the hospital fighting. She underwent surgery yesterday and the question is now if she will be able to walk. This family has so much facing them and we are sure that they probably feel quite overwhelmed. Please stop for a moment and say a prayer for _____, ______, and both children. We would like to ask that you forward this so that they have as manyprayers as possible.

Thanks, The Christians

I have no problems with the content of the message. It's how it's signed. This really chaps my ass. It says, "We are anonymous in our Chreeeestianty--we are so holy that we do not even have to include any believeable names with this message. There are only a few of us. You will know us by our e-mails. You are heathen if you do not pray for these people right when we tell you to. You are heathen, anyway." Why couldn't they have signed it "The Members of Such-and-Such Christian Church" or "Your Brothers and Sisters in Christ?" Sheesh.

I once heard that when Southern people say, "Bless your heart!" it's really a polite way of saying, "Fuck you!" I have to agree. Only a Southerner can say "bless your heart" in that sugary-sweet tone of voice that says one thing and means another. You don't even know you've been insulted when they say it. Only later on do you realize the other party was putting you down. (Admittedly, as a native Southerner, I've been known to toss off a "bless your heart" to irritating students, doofus colleagues, 4th cousins who want to bet with me on the Tech-Georgia game, etc.)

So I'll pray for these folks. And I'll pray for "The Christians," too. Bless their hearts.

Wrong pronoun? "Neigh!"

Saw this ad today on the bulletin board in the vet's office--I've blacked out all names and phone numbers. Look at the second sentence below the photo. Yeah, there are lots of things wrong with how the ad's written, but that caught my eye most of all...because my mind was in the gutter.

That's a pretty big schlong, even for a horse.

No. Really?

My daily horoscope e-mail tells me:

Today things could be rather hectic. You'll probably be kept very busy both mentally and physically, and you'll be happy with whatever results you produce. Nonetheless, you could tire yourself out, so be sure to take occasional breaks - and certainly don't forget to eat! Don't be surprised if you get a lot of compliments from an admiring entourage. In the evening: Take yourself out to dinner and unwind. You deserve it!

Sometimes my horoscope is dead-on correct. How'd they predict what today & Wednesday are going to be like? Wonders never cease, I tell ya.

A case of Red Bull is in order here. I'll just get a shunt straight into my heart so I won't have to waste time and rot my teeth by drinking the stuff, and the caffeine will go straight into my bloodstream.

Can I get an "amen?"

Button on classroom bulletin board at SBCC. Preach on, sista!

In which I play the role of the proverbial headless chicken*

Running, running, running like a madwoman! Running "like a chicken with its head cut off!" (Those of you who've never witnessed a chicken slaughter probably won't get that one. It's terribly, awfully gross.)

I'm heading out from D2U over to SBCC in a few minutes; going to grade papers like crazy until the 6pm class begins. Then I'm going to say, "Here are your papers. Get the hell out of here, and don't come back until you have something decent to turn in." I hope to be home before 9:30pm tonight. Mondays are an awfully long day--I'm in front of a class for eight whole hours, on the job from 8am-9pm. Whew. I will be so glad when Summer Term gets here. Only five hours of class on my very longest days--a relative piece of cake!

Clark has a bladder problem--I caught him trying to pee in front of the recycling bin this morning, and I'm glad I was there to see it. Now I know who's been randomly peeing all over the house instead of in the litter box. So that's why Pie's been lick-lick-licking himself: it hurts to pee! Bladder infections are the worst. So we'll be at the vet's at 11:00 tomorrow morning, with El Pie yowling in the small cat carrier and all.

The trip to see the Colonel this weekend is tentatively still on. (He lives in middle Tennessee, where he's a senior Army ROTC instructor at Posh Private University, or PPU--a wildly appropriate pseudonym.) I went ahead and cancelled my 1pm D2U class; I hope I didn't jinx myself. With any luck, our plans will hold and I'll be off to the Great Hillbilly Yonder at 11am Friday. The last time I saw the Colonel was right before Christmas. "What the hell kind of relationship is that if you only get to see each other every four months?" I can hear you asking. As soon as we figure it out, we'll let you know.

A student (one of my better lit students) asked me today for my blog address. I told him I'd give it to him after our class was over--I'd said too many not-so-nice things about other classes to feel comfortable having current students read it. But it's nice to know someone new wanted to join in the fun.

*Post title inspired by the Angry Professor over at Gentleman's C. Thanks, AP!

Until the shitstorm passes...

The next 3-1/2 weeks will be pure-dee Hell. I'm solid grading from now until at least May 8; D2U grades are due May 10 at noon, and SBCC grades are due May 5 at 9am. Very little teaching from here on out--it's mostly just stomping out fires and leaving them smoldering as opposed to doing a thorough job extinguishing them. Students are burned out...I'm burned out. And my Tiny Tech classes are only two weeks into the quarter; AM4C has five weeks to go. Jesus.

We have about 2-1/2 weeks of classes left for SBCC and D2U (thank God), and it's simply a race to the finish line. Students at both colleges are turning in portfolios. This teaching/grading system sounded like a good idea in January; now I'm not so sure.

Anyhow, I may not be posting much at all until the shitstorm (and that's exactly what it is) has passed. If I post, it'll be very sporadically, or only when I find something really hilarious that you need to see. A trip to Nashville may be in the works next weekend, but I won't know until the night before I leave. I can think of two or three funny signs on US Hwy 431 that could stand to be on E&P.

I hope to have plenty of funny stuff and pithy commentary when everything blows over. Until then, please bear with me!

Happy Easter!

Happy Easter to all of you!

I took the above photo on campus at D2U on Friday. A campus sorority sponsored an egg hunt for local needy kids, and they hid plastic eggs with goodies in them all over campus. This one was lying out in plain sight beside the sidewalk between buildings, all by its lonesome.

Pretty Easter colors in my yard

Top to bottom: crabapple 'Brandywine' in my back yard; unusual bright-pink azalea that just looks like a camellia; smaller salmon-colored azaleas; native (Piedmont) azalea by my back door; double-ruffled magenta azalea; Shirley.

Mom and Steve are in town today grocery-shopping and checking on Miss Lucille; they brought the dogs with them and dropped them off in my back yard "so Dogs could say they'd been somewhere," in Steve's words. It seems that Dogs get in trouble whenever Mom leaves them at home, so to keep them in the yard and out of mischief the rest of the time, she's just decided to bring them with her every day that she's in town on errands. "These mutts have been to town three times this week!" Mom told me.

So I have three in the back yard: Shirley, her twin sister Laverne, and Hillary (Australian Shepherd mix). The outdoor cats are none too pleased, as you can imagine. There is much irritated meowing on the front porch.

An Easter treat!

http://www.capnwacky.com/easter/

The "Gallery of Unfortunate Easter Cards" is priceless--just in time to relieve the stress of a house full of relatives, or of screaming kids at egg hunts.

Okay, so it's not as much fun as Cadbury Creme Eggs. But what is?

That was my question, too...

Courtesy of Robert Hayes.

Wisdom from my sister

Whenever you think that you're not part of the problem, remember that you can't spell "ignorant" without "I." Nor can you spell "dumbass" without "U."

--Val

More crazy signs

Top photo: sign on run-down old travel trailer, about two miles away from D2U. Courtesy of Brittany Reese. (I can't believe they're asking $49K for that piece of crap. It's gotta be a classic restorable Airstream or something like that.)

Bottom photo: Sign on farm access road near Loganville, Georgia. Courtesy of Samantha Bird.

My students freakin' rock!

"Early dementia due to excess grading"

That's what a neurologist would list as my diagnosis after examining my brain.

I've been so wrapped up in grading and updating class websites that I missed my massage appointment at 1pm. Lois called at 1:30: "Where are you? Are you OK?" I felt like a real dumbass. Thankfully, she's got 3pm Friday free. Nobody will be coming by for afternoon office hours, anyhow; they're still recovering from turning in first drafts on Wednesday.

Ugh. This grading is depriving me of my brains and my sense of time and my mental to-do list. And my basic common sense, too.

William Broz of the University of Northern Iowa writes in Jeffrey N. Golub's More Ways to Handle the Paper Load: On Paper and Online:

For me, there is a big difference in energy and attitude depending on whether I am supporting student progress toward a successful final draft or, in [Peter] Elbow's terms, "gate-keeping," by trying to decide if a student writer should receive an A- or a B+ for the quarter....Grading is draining and takes me to a lonely and institutional place that is not much like teaching. (p. 96)

So very true.

Today's poem is by Countee Cullen

"For a Lady I Know"

She even thinks that up in heaven
Her class lies late and snores

While poor black cherubs rise at seven
To do celestial chores.

William Carlos Williams was right!

"The Red Wheelbarrow"

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

Pictured above are two of the 18 or so chicken eggs that David, my poultry-raising D2U student, brought me today! They're beautiful eggs, many light brown, and some light brown with dark-brown speckles. David walked into my office during office hours this morning and set a cardboard box on my desk. "Compliments of Myrtle Mae!" he exclaimed. Myrtle Mae is the chicken of David's that I'm going to adopt in a few weeks--I am so excited about having a chicken of my own! She's a laying hen, small and brownish-red, about a year old, and gets picked on by David's other seven or eight laying hens. I've been wanting chickens of my own for almost a year now, and when he told me about her, I told him I definitely wanted to adopt her. I hate the idea of factory-farmed eggs, and I'd eat more of them if I knew what the hens were eating, and that they had room to roam and forage for bugs and grass and seeds.

More on small-scale poultry raising soon. Indeed, so much depends on the red wheelbarrow...and those white chickens! In the meantime, check out www.thecitychicken.com for more info on raising chickens in the city.

Jane Hirshfield, "Tree"

It is foolish
to let a young redwood
grow next to a house.

Even in this
one lifetime,
you will have to choose.

That great calm being,
this clutter of soup pots and books--

already the first branch-tips at the window.
Softly, calmly, immensity taps at your life.

(2001)

I get your point, already.

Busy as I am, I don't often have time to do the little "house-keeping" things that go along with maintaining an online class. I get assignments graded, answer e-mails, and that's about it. One of the few things that frustrates me about Tiny Tech is how we coddle students who drop out of their classes without formally getting off the roll. If a student stops coming to class (or participating in an online class), we have to keep up with when they last attended, and then send an e-mail to the registrar saying that they should be given an "admin drop." I say that if the student is too slack to drop him/herself from the class and proceeds to stay on the roll all quarter long without turning in any work, then he/she should get a big fat F. Once upon a time, I took an online class at Tiny Tech and didn't bother to turn in any work or drop myself. The teacher gave me an F, and it was the right thing to do. Hey, I'd earned it. All I ask of students--and I think all colleges should ask this of students--is that they conduct themselves like mature adults and get out of a course if they can't or won't do the work.

Last quarter, I gave three students a WF (withdrawn/failing); these three had been in my class all the term without turning in any work. Now, I'd given students F's before when they did this--and these F's were earned, too--but in that case I get all kinds of grief from the students and their advisors. "Why did you fail this student? He/she never turned in any work or participated in your class! You should've dropped them!" and blah-blah-blah. So I did what I thought was the safest option. I gave these three students a grade that showed both that they hadn't participated, and that they had a pitiful average in my class.

I got an e-mail this afternoon from the TTC Financial Aid director, who was e-shouting at me for not giving these students an admin drop. What could I do? I felt I was stuck between Scylla and Charibdis (thank you, Sting). I'd've been damned if I failed them, and damned if I gave them a WF. I just don't believe in the admin drop--it's the wimpy way out.

So I was clearly in the wrong and admitted it, but she e-yelled at me some more: "Why didn't you do this back last quarter?!? I wouldn't be reassessing financial aid awards now if you had done it!" Again, all I could do was reply, "Yes, ma'am--you're completely correct. I won't make this mistake again."

OK, lady, OK. Settle down. I won't do it again. Just get off my case. I have enough bullshit to contend with as it is. Good God.

Brilliant idea!

A couple of my colleagues at Tiny Technical College put together a proposal for teaching critical thinking skills across the curriculum at our school. This is an absolutely brilliant idea! For a long time, I've wanted to introduce my Tiny Tech students to critical thinking skills, but my ideas have either fallen flat or have been met with indifference. So now we have a college-wide effort to get this kind of stuff started. I discovered the Foundation for Critical Thinking's website...

http://www.criticalthinking.org/

and was really, really excited about it. Lord knows we all could use some more critical thinking in our classrooms and workplaces.

Many of my TTC students are the first in their families to go to college; many are highly religious and belong to very traditional, very conservative faiths. While I find my students' strong beliefs heartwarming, I'm sad to say that often these beliefs interfere with students' writing strong, well-formed essays. (It's from these folks that I get the "I want to write an essay on what the Bible says about _____" queries.)

Last quarter, I got an e-mail attached to a student's final research project. He mentioned that he'd done his persuasive essay on why the Patriot Act was bad for America, but went on to talk about how it was the "Liberal Left" that had brought the Patriot Act to fruition and was taking away Americans' rights to guns and privacy, and that they were "taking God out of the schools" and "want[ed] everyone to be godless Communists." (I was lost, by this point.) He went on and on about another few things. I replied in a very intelligent e-mail that he needed to be a lot more concise about what he was talking about. After all, I reminded him, the Patriot Act was thought up and is enforced by the Bush administration, which is a conservative one, and with a Republican-dominated Congress to back it up. And I pointed out a few more things he had overlooked in his haste to pin the blame on those evil, fire-breathing Liberals.

I didn't get a reply.

I hope my student didn't think I was "biting his head off," but I felt that he hadn't done his thinking very carefully and had just bought what Glenn Beck, Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, and FOX News told him. I guess the lesson for me here is to begin critical thinking exericses way, way early in the term. (And for the record, I know a number of Republicans who hate all the aforementioned pundits and "news" sources.)

This Critical Thinking Initiative is a bold venture into a new and exciting time for Tiny Tech. I'm proud of my colleagues and of TTC.

It's amazing what a person can get done while procrastinating!

Doesn't my cranky Molly look like a sweetie here? She came indoors this morning to eat--she'd been out all night, as is her habit, and staggered in the back door, lipstick all smeared, pantyhose in her pocketbook, smelling like Ripple. Cheap little tart!

No, really, she's spayed. I was trying to do something a la

Stuff On My Cat

but couldn't get enough items on her before the growling commenced, and before Clarky jumped onto the bathroom counter to see what the commotion was about.

Repeat to self: Three weeks to go, three weeks to go...

Today's poem is by Paul Zimmer

"Zimmer's Head Thudding against the Blackboard"

At the blackboard I had missed
Five number problems in a row,
And was about to foul a sixth,
When the old, exasperated nun
Began to pound my head against
My six mistakes. When I cried,
She threw me back into my seat,
Where I hid my head and swore
That very day I'd be a poet,
And curse her yellow teeth with this.

(1983)

Who's renting your eyeballs today?

While helping a D2U student come up with resources and ideas for an essay, I stumbled across the Center for Media Literacy's website...

http://www.medialit.org/

The title of this post comes from their outstanding guide to teaching media literacy in the K-12 classroom, Five Key Questions That Can Change the World. Awesome! This is definitely going into my teaching ideas for future comp classes. Fortunately, the 87-page guide is posted on the site in .pdf format and is downloadable for free. So far, the site seems to be non-partisan and independent, which is a real plus.

Today's poem, from William Carlos Williams

I really love this poem. Williams is one of America's greatest poets. This one was written in 1934.

"This Is Just to Say"

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

Sunday funnies

Two funny things from this afternoon:

1. On the way over to eat Sunday lunch with Mom and Steve, I stopped at a traffic light behind a very dusty, grimy van. On the back window of the van, someone had written in the dust:

WWJD?

Directly below, in different handwriting:

He'd tell you to wash me!

2. Conversation as we sat on Mom's porch this afternoon...

ME: Whew. I feel like shit.

MOM: Soft, gooey, and smelly?

Grade or zzzzzzzz

I always get sleepy when I know I have to grade. It's psychological--the thought of grading fills me with such dread that my body chooses to shut down and get super-sleepy. Why, I don't know. Maybe it's the thought of having to sit down and pass judgment on my students, whom I know and like as human beings. My least favorite part of the class day is when I have to hand back papers--seeing crestfallen faces just kills me. It hasn't gotten better with time; I've been doing this close to ten years, and I still have the same reaction. Or perhaps my dread of grading comes from having to sit still and do something that's alternately mind-numbing and despair-inducing.

Only three weeks to go until finals, thank God. Tomorrow, when I'm not teaching, I spend much of the day grading papers for SBCC, both the in-person and online classes. I've neglected my online students and therefore need to get crackin' and get their stuff in the mail to them. Man, there's a class I'm going to have to completely revamp for the summer term. It's just not working in its current WebCT format. I have 23 days to do it in between May 1, the date of the final exam, and May 23, when SBCC begins summer classes.

The photo is of Mom's cat Hobbes, asleep this afternoon on the back porch. She's a little orange-and-white furry bowling ball with legs. If I were a cat, I think I'd look something like this.

Carl Sandburg, "Fog"

Today's poem is by Carl Sandburg (American poet, 1878-1967), published in 1916 in his collection Chicago Poems. Six lines long, it's powerful in how it so effectively uses language and imagery. No words are wasted--it's a classic, and one of my all-time favorites.

"Fog"

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

That must be some really good bluegrass music

This is a real clipping from a real publication; I even left the "tag line" at the top intact to prove it. I couldn't believe my good fortune when I stumbled across it.

Now we know what the grinnin' is all about in "pickin' and grinnin'."

April is National Poetry Month!

So I thought I would, in my dad's words, "get crackin'" and post some poetry-related stuff every day for the next few weeks while we're hearing and reading and celebrating poetry. Would that every month were National Poetry Month!

Below is one of my favorites poems of all, by Judy Page Heitzman.

"The Schoolroom on the Second Floor of the Knitting Mill"

While most of us copied letters out of books,
Mrs. Lawrence carved and cleaned her nails.
Now the red and buff cardinals at my back-room window
make me miss her, her room, her hallway,
even the chimney outside
that broke up the sky.

In my memory it is afternoon.
Sun streams in through the door
next to the fire escape where we are lined up
getting our coats on to go out to the playground,
the tether ball, its towering height, the swings.
She tells me to make sure the line
does not move up over the threshold.
That would be dangerous.
So I stand guard at the door.
Somehow it happens
the way things seem to happen when we're not really looking,
or we are looking, just not the right way.
Kids crush up like cattle, pushing me over the line.

Judy is not a good leader is all Mrs. Lawrence says.
She says it quietly. Still, everybody hears.
Her arms hang down like sausages.
I hear her every time I fail.

I'll take "Things That Make Me Sad" for $1000, Alex.

The foreign language instructors here at D2U are conducting oral exams this week, so in addition to all my poor stressed-out students wandering the halls of this building, there are scores of other poor stressed-out students looking for their French or Spanish or German professors. The young Spanish instructor whose office is next door to mine gave 20 exams Thursday, la pobrecita.

About an hour ago, I heard someone crying down the hall--deep, inconsolable, broken-hearted weeping. It sounded like the voice of one of our receptionists, so I ran out into the hall to see if some ignorant student or delivery person had been nasty to our front-office ladies. I was going to kick some ass if anyone had been rude to T_____ or M______.

In the main hallway was a young woman, probably a first-year student, crying her eyes out. She'd just come out of a foreign language exam, and evidently it had not gone well. "I'm just stupid! Oh my God, I'm so stupid! I don't even know why I'm in college! I am so dumb! I don't belong here!" The sobs were really deep and heavy, as if they came from somewhere way, way down in her heart. Her heart was breaking for all of D2U to see as she stood in the hall.

Suddenly, two other students were at her side. "What's the matter? Are you okay?" One fished a tissue out of her backpack and handed it to her sobbing friend. They put their arms around her heaving shoulders.

"I'm so stupid, I just can't believe myself! I failed the oral exam--I couldn't even sit through the test! I AM SO STUPID!"

The friends tried to comfort her. "Don't worry! You can ask for extra-credit work! Don't put so much weight on the oral exam! We still have three quizzes and a final to go! You're being too hard on yourself!" But the poor young woman just kept crying and saying how she was stupid and didn't belong in college. Her friends picked up her backpack and sweater and led her out of the building, talking to her and trying to calm her down.

I walked back into my office and tried not to cry myself.

In that young lady I saw the me of 14 years ago, after my Spring Semester final exam for Music 203, "Piano for Non-Majors." I knew I'd pretty much failed it, having come to UGA to play saxophone and not the weenie instrument of piano. I lost it in the hallway after Ms. Kasten told me I'd failed. The cloud of self-doubt and dumbness followed me around for months. I had come to UGA from my podunk little hometown, the high expectations of my family and community trailing me like a comet's tail...only to fail so ignobly and THUNK! land in a big cloud of dust on a planet of stupid. Why had I ever decided to major in music, anyhow? Why, why, why?

The first week of Fall Semester, I went over to the Academic Affairs Office and changed my major to English. And I've never looked back.

Dear, sweet little D2U student: if you stumble on this blog, please forgive me for posting your story on here. Please know that someone really empathizes with you, and knows how you feel right now. You'll recover from your setback in time. Just don't ever forget that you deserve to be here. You deserve a college education, and you are not letting anyone down. You're doing the best you can. And you'll do just fine in the long run.

If only every student had one of these

The most essential gift for a good writer in a built-in, shock-proof shit detector. This is the writer's radar and all great writers have had it.

--Ernest Hemingway (1954)

I have this quote posted on my office door in hopes that someone will read it and take it to heart.

This week of meeting with students has really worn me down. I think I'm coming down with a cold now; I had a 36-hour stomach bug last week. It's that time of the semester, though.

A breather before the first student arrives

My first student arrives at 10am today for research-paper conferences. In the meantime, I'm sitting here in my D2U office getting a few things done. Tiny Tech began Spring Quarter classes on Monday, so I've been trying to fit in 30+ students per day with getting online and making sure my Tiny Tech students have all the info they need to do their online courses. This is the quarter where I have to get the new site for English 101 up and running. The old one sucks monkey butts, and my supervisor wants TTC's online classes to have the same books (and basically the same syllabi) as the on-campus classes. Consistency is good.

We're using Susan Fawcett's trusty old Evergreen, 7th edition, for the new online syllabus. The publisher includes a huge bank of thousands of random test questions for free when an instructor adopts the book for class use, so (hopefully) making up quizzes won't be such a pain. I think the test bank will make my life easier.

Better run and make sure these students have all the usernames and passwords they need.

Better than a lit-book glossary--and fairly accurate, too

http://mcsweeneys.net/2006/3/24anders.html
A Serial Killer Explains the Distinctions between Literary Terms

Priceless! I wonder whether my students would take this seriously. They never seem to read the glossary at the back of our Bedford when I ask them what in medias res or rising action means.

I'm just glad nobody's made erection references for the latter. Yet.

The 11th Commandment: Thou shalt use Spell Check

This old (1950s?) sign I saw out behind an antiques store near Small Town. I'm not sure what the shed is; perhaps an outhouse? Nah, too easy.

"Am I going to pass your class, Ms. K?"

http://www.indra.com/8ball/front.html

Well, sweetie--let's ask the Magic 8-Ball!

Until I can get over to Spencer Gifts and buy a real one, this animated internet one will have to do. I just asked it several whiny-student questions about English 1101, and it's being decidedly positive today.

What's on sale?!?

Sign outside Piggly Wiggly supermarket, Lanett, Alabama. Courtesy of Ken Hendricks.

Would you care for some cheese with that whine?

Every day this week--all day, every day, Monday through Friday--I'll be having research paper conferences with my D2U students. I'm seeing 35 students today between 8am and 4pm. I'm ready to help them with their research papers, which are due May 3, but I'm also ready for the copious amount of whining that's sure to come my way. I was ready to fail all 100+ of them Friday. "What?!? We have two more papers and a research paper due by May 3?!?" they protested. "But that's not fair!" Awwwww. Life's not fair, sweetie-pie. But you suck it up and deal with it anyway.

Never mind that these last two papers and the research paper have been on the syllabus since the first day of the semester. I asked them whether they'd bothered to check the syllabus; they looked at me as if I had two heads, especially the 9am comp class. And I told them they didn't have to do any of the assignments; they could simply not turn them in, if they so choose. And of course they'd get a failing grade.

What a bunch of dumbasses. I have no patience with or pity for today's 18- and 19-year-olds. Parents, your kids are whiny, slack-ass losers, pure and simple. Maybe you should've tried being their parents instead of their friends. Perhaps then they'd have backbones and would be able to deal with what life throws them. Oh, but that would've been too much work and would've taken away from your time at the Country Club, or drinking beer on the couch, or fooling around with your mistress, or just being self-absorbed in general.

I digress. The first student arrives in T minus 30 minutes.

Spring in west central Georgia

Took these yesterday evening at Mom's house, in rural Booger County, Georgia. Top to bottom: dogwood, spiraea, redbud, forsythia, cat.

Squiggy was out following me around as I took pictures; I am not actually strangling him in the bottom photo. He was being very sweet, but wouldn't stop rolling around and playing Pet My Tummy long enough for me to take a good picture of him, so I squatted down to scratch his chin and under his neck, and the photo just happened. He purred like a Cummins Turbo Diesel the entire time.

It is beautiful down here today. This my favorite time of year.

Daylight Saving got me dizzay

[My sincerest apologies to Underground Kingz for ripping off "Pussy Got Me Dizzay," 1992.]

Who would have thought that springing the clocks forward one hour would make such a difference? I went to bed last night very, very tired, after not having had much sleep over the last few days. I awoke at 1pm--no! It's now 2pm, thanks to DST! And boy, was I woozy. I sure needed the 12+ hours of sleep...just didn't mean to sleep that long. Geez.

It's 81 degrees and sunny today in west central Georgia. I have the windows in the house open so the cats can sit in the sills and sniff the outdoor air and freshen their fur. Their Mama is also sniffing the air--so nice and spring-y and clean-smelling. My neighbor across the street just finished mowing his lawn for the first time this season, and the smell of freshly-clipped grass and mower exhaust is wafting through the neighborhood. (Yes, I like the exhaust smell, too.) The blueberry bushes outside the den/office window are blooming profusely, which means my largest crop yet of blueberries will arrive in late June. Saucer magnolias, forysthias, a few straggler daffodils, early irises, redbud trees, azaleas...they're all blooming around my neighborhood. It's glorious, the riots of color in almost every front yard, along every roadside bank.

I have some beautiful spring photos to post for you, and I'll do so toute suite. Photos of my azaleas will be up end of this week, as they get more fully into bloom.

Happy, happy Spring! It's finally here. Now to begin laying out the edges of the new garden. Mom and I have decided that nothing is going to hold us back this year from Tomato Glory. We're going to be heirloom tomato goddesses around these parts. Step off, garden posers!

The afternoon class strikes again!

On Friday afternoon, I walked into my afternoon D2U Comp II class a few minutes late--I had to hoof it up four flights of stairs to our room due to a slow-ass elevator--only to see seven students hanging out in the common area near the classroom. What were they doing in the break area when class was supposed to be going on? Had they figured I was going to be absent again?

"What are y'all doing out here?" I asked.

"Ohhh...waiting on you, Miss Kitty!" one replied.

"Well, c'mon. I'm late, but we're still having class," I told them. This was followed by lots of moaning and groaning, but they trudged along good-naturedly behind me to our classroom at the end of the hall. "Let's see who's already in the room."

Nobody. I had seven students out of 25. I was stunned. "Wait. Are y'all it?"

"Huh? What?" They were even more confused than I was. Robbie* volunteered, "Well, I thought I saw Tina* at the snack machine a few minutes ago, but I don't know where she is now..."

Seven students out of 25. This was bad, even for a beautiful Friday afternoon in late March. Two-thirds of the class had played hooky! "Geez, if I'd known so few of you would be here, I might've stayed home," I said. "Let's wait a couple more minutes and see whether we have any stragglers."

"Awww, Miss Kitty! We showed up! The slack people stayed home! Do we get extra credit? Huh? Please?" Tamara* piped up.

"Please let us go early!" Robbie* begged. "Please? We'll take you out to lunch! We'll buy you a beer!"

"Nice try, but how are you underage jailbirds going to get me a beer?" Everyone laughed.

"I've got an 18-pack in the car..." Skip* said.

I looked at him over my glasses. "Ummm...are you 21, Skip?"

"Oh, I'm 24. If you'll let us go right now, Miss Kitty, I'll buy everybody a beer." (I think Skip's* dad owns a local convenience store.)

"No dice, but I give you an A for effort." We all had a good laugh. I started into my lecture on research paper topics and Alice Walker's "Roselily," determined to get it out of the way. And I was pretty pissed off, too, though I was trying to hide it. I couldn't believe two-thirds of my best class had stayed home. Good God, all I did was miss one day with a stomach virus. "Okay...so next week, each of you needs to sign up for a time slot in my office so we can discuss your research papers. If you miss your appointment with me and don't reschedule it, I'll take ten points off of your final research paper grade. The sign-up sheet's right here, and—"

"APRIL FOOOOOOOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

My other 15 students came barreling through the door! They had been in the darkened classroom next door, waiting on me to get all pissed off that only seven had shown up!

I laughed like hell. "I have been April Fooled indeed! And only you people could get away with it!" It was funny as hell. I'd been played by the crazy students in the afternoon lit class.

It was a funny way to end a very stressful week--nothing like laughter to get the old immune system back to work again. I'm really, really thankful for the personalities in my 1pm class. I'm really going to miss these people at the end of the term. Three-quarters of these students have taken a composition class with me; many of them waited a year in between English classes to get into my Intro to Lit course. That's a big compliment. If you think about it in terms of time, they've elected to spend eight months--66% of the year--of their college careers in my class. Geez. I must be doing something right.

These people are some of the better writers, better students, and crazier/more diverse personalities out of all my classes. It's always nice to end my Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays with these wonderful nutcases. They have a special place in my heart. I'll post a picture of them when I can get them all together (and holding still!) long enough for me to whip out the cell phone.