Back to School or: Public Underwear Sighting
Yes, the college students are back in town and things are as they should be.
Here's how my classes went:
BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, PAIN.
BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, SUFFERING.
BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, MAKE YOU WISH YOU WERE DEAD.
BLAH, BLAH, BLEEDING FROM YOUR FINGERNAILS.
ENJOY THE HOLIDAY WEEKEND.
Have I mentioned that I think this is quite possibly the semester that will kill me? If I don't blog for more than a month, you'll know that I was crushed by a stack of peer-reviewed journals.
Here's how the class I teach went:
Most notably, as I anticipated, we had the return of Stinky Girl. She no longer stinks so badly that your eyes water - the BO is gone, which was actually a refreshing surprise. She did, however, still stink of cigarette smoke. Question: How is it that some people are smokers and you'd NEVER know it by smelling them (unless they admitted it in a drunken confession) and some people smell like their name should be "Wendy the Dancing Ashtray?" But I digress.
She did, of course, make some random comment about South Park that had NOTHING to do with what we were discussing. I think I'm going to get LOTS of TV references from that girl and that's not good. However, a colleague gave me a solution (we shall see if I actually have the chutzpah to use it): When a student comes up with a random, off-the-mark comment to a question that I have posed, I should say, professionally and politely, "I'm sorry. I'm confused. How does that relate to my comment about teen pregnancy, exactly?"
And then - of course - and I mean OF COURSE!!!! - her phone rang. Again. Like it did (twice) the first day of class this summer. This is what I mean by "Designated Mess." I had 40 students smashed in that pathetically small classroom and did anyone ELSE'S phone ring over the course of an hour and a half? No. No one's. Just hers. And since it happened to her this summer, wouldn't you think she'd be that much more likely to TURN OFF HER DAMN PHONE? And again, we had some wacky, ring-tone song playing (the theme from Rocky, I think) and then she was all, "Oh my gosh - so sorry" - and we all waited for a minute and a half while she rummaged through her bag (which was actually a fairly small purse) and Rocky got louder with each chorus.
There's more that happened in that classroom, but I'm too mentally exhausted to detail it at the moment.
I noticed a sign outside of my office yesterday that read, "Blood Drive Friday. Get a pulpy smoothie!" I don't even know what a "pulpy smoothie" is - although I can certainly hazard a guess - but I really don't think you should write about one in the same paragraph as blood. It's just not a good visual. Those folks who organize the university blood drives need to take a marketing class.
As I drove home at approximately 6:30 p.m. today, I passed the Chipotle that is right on the edge of campus. There was (LITERALLY! I swear on a stack of Inappropriate Sister-approved Bibles!) a line out the door and halfway into the parking lot. People. I suppose some people might say that food is "good" - but it ain't THAT good. Is cafeteria food THAT bad? People are willing to wait outside in the RAIN?! It's just burritos and shit - it's not like you'll be getting front row seats to the U2 show.
This morning, as I walked through the puddle-filled parking lot, a flash of purple caught my eye. I looked again (maybe it was purple money?) and there, in the middle of what was probably the only empty parking space on campus, was a small pair of women's underwear. Boy shorts, to be exact, trimmed with about an inch of peach lace. Sort of sporty-kitschy, if you will. They had been rained on, and I'm guessing they had been taking up that parking space for at least a few hours. I don't know, and I don't want to know.
Oh, yes. School is back in session. Officially.