Bitches and Hos

So lately is it weird that I have had trouble opening doors without thinking that a squirrel is going to jump at me with a knife? I went to get my vacuum a couple of days ago, and to be honest felt a little anxiety when opening the door to the utility closet. Regardless of this fact, I've got other things to talk about, things filled with drama, intrigue and horror.

I don't know if any of you are aware of it, but I hate my Monday class. The teacher's awful and doesn't have a good pedagogy. There are many things that I could bitch about with this class, and probably will before this blog is over with, but to began with: he has us - the students - lecturing to each other over things that we've read for class, but doesn't contribute to the class discuss himself or really even take a leadership role in the steering of the class to a particular point. Now the lecturing to ourselves is pretty bad, however it is even worse, because most of the students in this class are freaking morons.

Now, to be fair, I'll explain why I find most of them to be idiotic. For many, this is there first year in Grad School, so they don't know their asses' from a whole in the ground. However, most of these students also don't read for class, or contribute anything productive to the discussion. In fact, many times, they can't even put a complete thought together and propagate the class in a forward direction. Yet, instead of keeping their GD mouths shut, they want to say something, and usually that something requires me to dumb myself down to understand their stupid commentary. And depending on my mood - and my mood has gotten more foul as the semester has gone on - I might, or might not say something to refute what they said, and if I can help it, also make them look stupid in the process. Now, this does not happened to often, I usually just let the train wreck happen without me, and watch it from the sidelines. But I have been known on occasion to say something, and that something might not have been to pleasant to the speaker afterwards.

Another point that makes this class really annoying, is that fact that most of the time, since the stupents - that's my name for the idiots in the class - don't read, I'm stuck with two other people having to lead the discussions. And while I like listening to myself speak for a while, I really start to get self-conscious that I'm monopolizing the time of the class, more so than usual, and I really hate that. In fact, I think I've become the go to guy for my professor when he has a question that he can't really articulate, and he needs someone to answer it. So, I get questions all the time from this guy directed strictly at me, asking me about something, really anything, and I have to come up with something profound on the spot. And you think I'm joking, but truthfully, I can think at least once in the last three classes, where's he pointedly said something like: "Well, I mean, what do you think about this concept... blah blah blah. Tony?" or maybe: "Well, guys, anyone really have a comment for this question? Tony?"

So, while it's nice to be a answering student, ask the rest of the stupents a question everyone once in a GD while! Because it's unnerving to be the one always asked for an answer without understanding the damn question.

However, what remains really sad, is that this class has become more and more drama filled as the semester has gone on. Sometimes this is due to the teacher telling us certain things and then reneging: for example, us having to have three heavily based research papers - another reason why I don't like the class, or it could be students themselves: many examples of this to come. So, while I have blogged about this before, I have more drama filled stories about my hatred for my Monday class, and those who wanted to put me into their conspiracy against this professor.

So, this particular incident happened three Mondays ago at this point. We had just turned our papers in, and all our eyes were looking pretty tired. Thankfully, the professor didn't have us writer anything on the current book that was suppose to have been read that day, and there was no group leaders who were to lead the stupents in a class discussion for the day. Instead, the professor had us do an in-class writing assignment - pretty undergraduate in my opinion - and we would then have a class discussion after about an hour of writing.

So, after the hour had passed, we did just that. However, here's the rub: the professor wanted us to talk between each other and create a dialogue between two particular persons, where one person investigated the other's views upon the book. So, to better explain this, I will just show how the first person did it... oh and by the way, guess who was the first person? Me. That's right, the professor's go to guy. Anyways, so I was the interviewer, and I asked a doctorate student who I know had read which writing prompt she had done, and we had a nice 15 minute conversation. I then was to pass the interviewer position to someone else, which I did, I passed it to Fern, the woman who tried to rope me into the conspiracy against the professor and go see the dean of English.

Fern tried to talk to one of the stupents, and it became readily apparent in about 10 seconds that this guy hadn't read, and was trying to pass it off like he had. So, I just sat back like I usually do, and let the awkward silence start to take over the classroom. This conversation ended about 2 minutes later, and before Fern could pass off her interviewer position, the professor stopped the class, and instead of bitching at that particular student for not being prepared for class, asked Fern to look at her posture. He commented on wanting her to sit up straight, because she was really slouching over, and her body language was communicating something to the class that she presumably didn't want to send. So, the professor said that he wanted her to be aware of what her posture was saying by her slouching in her seat, and leaning against the wall.

Now, I've heard some say this was a personal attack against her, however I don't feel that this was the case. In fact, I thought what he said was quite true, and while it wasn't done in the most professional manner, Fern's response blew his initial statements out of the water and then took a piss on them just for good measure. Fern said this, and now granted I can't say it's verbatim because it has been a few weeks, but the moment was so jarring, I remember them in very accurate detail, even now. "Well, I just don't feel like sitting up straight today, okay? My mother's dying, and I have to go getting a breast biopsy because I felt a lump. So, I don't particularly feel very much like sitting up straight!"

I shit you not, it was pretty much that statement. And the classwent dead silent, and the awkwardness that I am so used to in that class quickly enveloped the room. And what did the professor do about her rude outburst? Absolutely nothing. I would have at this point asked her if she were done, and then told her to leave for the day. But - and this is why I can't stand this man as a professor - he did absolutely nothing, because, I'm sure, he was as dumbstruck as the rest of us. However he could not get the classroom train churning again, and instead, let us remain in silence. Finally, about 30 seconds later, I turned back to look at Fern, and I could see she was starting to tear up. And I thought to myself, oh shit, here it comes now. Tony, if she pulls anything out of that bag, you fucking hit the ground.

However, instead of grabbing something out of her bag, she started quickly stuffing as much of her shit into it as possible, stacked the rest of it and quickly left the room. And the moment I saw her packing her stuff, I wanted to laugh. Not because I found it funny, but I'm a notoriously inappropriate laugher person; at the most inopportune times, I can't help myself, and the laughter bubbles to the surface, and makes me sound like a maniacal evil villain. And thankfully, I was able to hold that laughter in, until I heard not only the classroom door shut, but also the stairwell door, and then I couldn't hold it in anymore, and let it rip. And after about 5 seconds, I was able to stop myself, apologized and then the class went on. And at the end, the professor apologized for her, but I felt like I was owed an apology from Fern... I told Lindsey - the only girl, check that, only person, I actually like in that entire classroom - this fact, and also told her that she should say this to Fern on Wednesday, since Lindsey would see her then. Lindsey told me that there was no way in hell she would say that to Fern, and I told her that if she actually did, that she should leave my name out of it, because Fern makes me nervous on the best of days, and after today, even more so.

However, the drama doesn't end there. Later that week, Fern forwarded us an email from the dean of the English department regarding the meeting she had with him concerning our professor. The email included the fact that the professor had been talked to by the chair, and that both recommended that he direct some questions to the class to see what we could still have an effective class.

So that next Monday rolled around, and I felt that we had a good class. The professor seemed to actually lead the class a little bit and took more of a leadership position where he was posing questions and guiding the discussion. And I thought this was just an overall more effective class than any we had before. So after break, he told us - because we weren't suppose to know - that he last week had a meeting with his boss due to the complaints that dealt with this class. And he stated that we were going to be starting over from scratch and moving ahead at this point, and asked for comments about what could be done differently, so that we could have an effective class. So, I named what i complained about above: bad teaching method - didn't say it like that, by the way; that he needed to take more of a leadership role in the class; that I didn't appreciate getting lectured to by other stupents, nor was I particularly learning anything from their awful lectures anyways.

Anyways, what it amounted to was it was a pretty good metacognitive pedagogy discussion, until a student - Christi - who's even a freaking Education, not English, major, told the professor that those who are having a problem should just suck it up, and deal. And that, he should just leave everything the way that it already was, and that she was uncomfortable with this entire conversation... blah blah blah. At this point, everyone of course got really silent... something that we weren't problem with before her comments.

And I really wanted to ask her if she felt that teacher's shouldn't question their teaching method? Because she pretty much stated that somewhere in her five minute diatribe against all the other students who were making productive comments. This question I thought was really relevant, because of the fact that she is an Education major, and should at all times be wondering if her teaching method is working, and if it's not, what she should do differently. And what she should do differently is not tell her students to suck it up, and figure it out. I know that I've done metacognitive pedagogy discussions with my class a few times now, and while I wasn't being forced to by my superiors, I felt, especially the first one, it helped me to be a better teacher, and to see what I could be doing differently to better to help my students.

Anyways, this isn't even the most horror filled part. After she was done, the professor appeared to get really emotional, went behind the desk, picked up his pile of crap, quickly told us that the class was finished - I wish forever - grabbed his crap and RAN out of the of room, because I think, and Lindsey confirmed, we thought he was about to start crying. And then I wanted to start crying, because I have another 5 classes still.

So, what I've decided is I need to start drinking before class. In fact, I am really tempted to go buy a flask and to start drinking inside class. And I will make a show of it; when drama starts, I will explicitly go for the flask, uncork it, and start drinking. And I will probably offer it to whomever wants to take a hit. In fact, Amanda said, and I'm seriously contemplating this as well, that I should just taking the bottle, because I want to create a spectacle with these action, and it would be even more amazing if I were to pull a bottle out of my bag instead of just a flask. And who knows? I'm a pretty happy drunk, kinda loud and mouthy, but pretty happy. I might make class more interesting! And since I know that there will be drama again this week, i might as well partake in it for once, instead of only sitting on the sidelines and being a spectator. And truthfully, if no one else starts the drama, I have a particular stupent who I'd love to pimp slap, so I'd target him first. And, even though he's more of a dick than a bitch, I'd still slap him like I was his pimp.

Man vs Wild

While on my computer around 1 O'clock yesterday talking to my friend Amanda on facebook, I heard a rustling in my utility closet. Being rude, and stepping away from my computer, I opened the door and was confronted by a F'ing SQUIRREL crawling on the back wall of the closet like a lizard! That's right, there was a squirrel in my utility closet - the closet that had the heater and water heater at the top of my stairs.

When confronted by this furry squirrly creature, I did what any man would do, I screamed like a little girl and slammed the door shut! Thinking that it was stuck in there, I went directly back to my computer and sent an email my rental place, telling them that there was a squirrel in my closet, and I needed them to send someone out to fix this... at this point, I just thought that the squirrel had chewed a hole somewhere, and there was a hole in my closet that needed to be fixed. So, I wasn't too worried about it, yet.

Once I had hit the send button on the email, I turned to my right, and guess what? The F'ing squirrel was in my room! I screamed like a little girl again, and threw my hands in the air; when it started running right at me, I started screaming even louder and ran out of my bedroom - that's where my computer is - down the stairs and right out the damn door of my apartment!

Luckily, I had my phone in my pocket, because I right then and there on my front doorstep called the rental place and told them I needed both an exterminator and a priest, because I thought the squirrel was possessed by the way it kept coming after me. The rental people told me - after I finally said the word squirrel like four time because she couldn't believe it either - that they needed to call Animal Control to humanely get the creature out. So, I sat on my front porch for over an hour, grading papers, and waiting for someone to rescue me from this rabid creature. And the entire time I was out there, I swear I saw this same damn squirrel right in front of me, eating nuts, but stopping and trying to stare me down, looking at me like, "My buddy's got your turf now... Bitch!"

Finally, the Animal Control guy showed up, and went upstairs to get the squirrel... unfortunately, he couldn't find it. So, finally, I warily crept back into my apartment, feeling really anxious that this damn squirrel was going to run right at me again, and this time make me piss myself. Finally, I went back upstairs and start talking to the Animal Control guy. He told me that while he looked throughout my entire upstairs, he couldn't find the damn thing, so he assumes it went back into the closet - there's about half an inch gap between floorboard and door and that's how he squeezed through and got out of the closet initially, I think - and had left the building. However, I asked the guy if he has any squirrel traps, because if he's gotten in once, he's surely going to come back and bully me again. He said that no, he didn't have any with him, and I'd have to go down to the main office, and put a deposit on one if I wanted it. I then asked if I should be worried about this, and his response to this questions was, "Well, it's pretty unlikely that the squirrel's got rabies, because any of the bigger rabies holders, like raccoons and such - would just tear a squirrel to shreds. So I wouldn't worry about that. However, it is a squirrel in your house, so I'd not be too comfortable with it being around." My next thought was, "Shit! Thanks dude, how the hell am I suppose to sleep tonight, without waking up thinking I've got a f'ing squirrels tail on my face." However, I had already skipped one class waiting for this guy to show up, and I couldn't miss the other, so I figured I'd go get the trap tomorrow morning (Thursday, this all happened yesterday on Wednesday), and I'd deal with a trapped squirrel when it was caught a few days later. However, before I left, I had a couple of random bricks in the utility closet, and I placed them in front of the gap of the door and the floorboard because that should block the squirrel's entrance into my apartment.

So, I get back from class and decided to goof off for a while before I go to bed. However, around 12:30, I'm ready to go to sleep. I walk up, take my shirt off, and turn on the light in my bedroom... Squirrel! And it's running and hopping and having a great time... especially when it hears me scream like a little girl again, and run down the stairs! The damn squirrel was back, and animal control isn't open this late, so I had absolutely no options. So, I did the only think I could, prayed and hoped to God that the damn thing wouldn't come down stairs and I slept on my couch.

I woke up at 8 O'Clock, and steeled myself to going back upstairs, to see if the squirrel was still up there, or if I should go get a squirrel trap. So, I'm walking up my stairs without turning the light on, and about halfway up the flight, I notice this really dark spot in the corner at the very top of the landing and i think to myself, that can't be the f'ing squirrel, can it? But I'm not going to chance it, so I went back down stairs, turned the light on and quietly walked back up the flight. In the corner, hanging out, stretching up the wall, was that damn squirrel just waiting for me!

So, I quickly walked back down the stairs, and called animal control again. However, I started feeling really self-conscious, because I didn't have a shirt on, and wanted to appear somewhat presentable to whomever showed up. So, I went halfway back up the flight of stairs, and looked to see if the squirrel was still there. He was. So, I went back down again, not knowing what to do. Finally, I bucked up enough courage to go up the stairs, keeping as far away from the stretching squirrel as possible, went into my room and got a t-shirt to put on. And when going back down the stairs, I again tried to stay as far as humanly possible from the animal, so that it wouldn't run at me again, and I wouldn't scream.

The interesting thing was, it didn't even seem to respond to my presence when I was slowly inching past it, and hadn't moved since I first looked at it. So, I wasn't sure if it was dead or alive, but there was no way in hell I was going to be the one who checked to see.

Finally around 10, the animal control guy showed up, and it's the same guy from yesterday. He says, "Is he back?" And I tell him how I again screamed like a little girl last night, but that it's been in the same position since I woke, appearing to stretch itself up the corner of the wall. I then said, "I'm not really sure if it's dead or alive, but I figured I'd let you handle it either ways." So, I guess it must be protocol for the animal service guys to always leave the front door open, because he did the same thing yesterday; so I moved away from the opendoor way, because if that f'ing squirrel wasn't dead, I wasn't going to be in its line of sight if it made a run for it. Moving away from the staircase, and I went and sat on my couch. I then heard the animal control guy doing something upstairs, and then yelling, "It's not dead!"

This exclamation was followed by him yelling, "It ran into the bathroom!" Clomp Clomp Clomp (those are his boot running after the squirrel) and then a door slamming. I then heard quite a bit of ruckus going on in the bathroom for about 5 minutes. Finally, the animal control guy came out, with the squirrel. I took a picture of it, because I didn't think the teacher of the class I skipped would believe me otherwise. Goddamn squirrels!

So, let's sum up and find the point of this encounter: squirrels are all fun and cuddly, until they're running at you in your bedroom - my sanctum sanctorum. Then at that point, they become ferocious beast, with sharp f'ing teeth and an intention to kill me in their beady eyes. And if I were a more courageous man, I might have put my boots on and kicked the shit out of the thing, but I would rather let a professional do there job, and knowing my luck, that thing would probably just scurry up my leg, because, in the end all it was really after were my nuts.

His Time v. My Time

So, here's a short one today... I went all teacher on one of my students on Monday. This one student was laying his head down on his desk when I first came into class; and he's one of my bright students, so he decided to sit in the front row while doing this act of violence against me! And for some reason, I knew trouble would be coming after seeing this head down...

So, I had the class do a writing assignment, because I had just given them a new topic that their next paper would be dealing with (for those who don't know, I'm having them write 5 different types of papers, and they're now on their third one). So, I wanted them to write for about 15 minutes, while I watched, twiddled my thumbs and stared off into space. All of a sudden, I saw this same student with his head down, again. And I wasn't willing to let him sleep in class. So, I stood up from my stolen desk (see my last blog if you don't know what I'm talking about), and I walked over to him. I then leaned in, and waited for him to open his eyes. Once he did, I told him that if he wanted to sleep, he should do that on his own time, but right now, he's on mine time, and he needs to either write or get out. He decided to write.

I really couldn't believe that someone would come to my class just to sleep! I guess he thought I wouldn't count him as absent because he was present, but that reasoning didn't fly with me. So I asserted a little bit of that authority that I'm so addicted to, and decided to nip this problem in the bud before it even became a problem... because at the moment, it was just an annoyance. And I truly don't know if anyone else saw me do this - I bet they all saw me do this, I was wearing my boots, and they click when I walk, declaring my presence to everyone - but an example had been set, and it won't happen again... and if it does, I have other ways to deal with that problem... a heavy book smacked on the top of a desk will scare the shit out of anyone, especially someone who's asleep.

Okay, that story was really short, so here's a blog that I to did for my teaching class... if it's funny, that means I went and rewrote something, because it was meant initially to be read by my teacher, but I'm a lazy fool, who will take something, rewrite it, and submit it to the public, so i can be ridiculed, lambasted and overall mocked by my peers. Enjoy!

The second, observational, essay was due in class on Friday. And I had three students in my 9 am class give me excuses for why they couldn’t hand it into me on time. So, it's time to put the fear of Professor Burnsy back into them.

I didn’t have this problem with my 8 am class. In fact, one student actually showed up, handed it to me, and then left because he was sick. I asked him if he was okay, and he told me that he had an upper respiratory infection. Yet, even though he was on Death's door, this poor bastard still made it into class, and handed me his essay. So, I don’t think it’s me, because I’m treating both classes the same way. And even though I know that each class is different and independent, my classroom antics are pretty similar in both rooms. So, let me go through how this snow balled out of control, because of one particular student.

Student A is a pretty good student, who started off this whole mess. She came up to me after class, and at least appeared contrite about not having the paper with her. She told me that she had forgotten the hard copy at work, and wanted to know if she could give it to me later today through email. I told her yes, that would be fine, but she would need to both email it to me by the end of the day, and also give me a hard copy on Monday.

Right after that Student B came up to me and told me that he was not aware that it was due today. Now, to begin with, he had his paper with him when we did peer reviews on Wednesday, and I had been telling them for the last week that papers were due today. Everyone else knew, so his excuse seemed bull-shitty to me. But he had seen me give Student A a pass, so I felt like I had to give one to him as well. So, I told him that he was lucky that I was feeling generous today, and I would let him email it to me by the end of the day as well. But, as an addendum, I also told him that that excuse wouldn’t fly again, because the due dates for the papers hadn’t changed since the very first day of class, and it was his responsibility to know them.

Then Student C (this C actually stands for Chicken-Shit, the other two I didn't have names for, but for this student I made some effort), another kid from my 9am class sent me this email: “Hey, sorry I missed class at 9, I was feeling a bit under the weather. I know the observational essays were supposed to be due today, so how should I get that to you?” This for some reason really pissed me off, I think because of the fact that another one of my students came in sick as a dog to hand me a paper, and this kid was only feeling a “bit” under the weather… I also didn’t like the “Hey,” I’m not his friend and you don’t address a boss with ‘hey,’ so you shouldn’t address me with one in an email either. Yet, he, too, was given a pass, because I gave the other two students chances to turn their papers in late.

So, even though I started out this class as being kind of a hard ass, and have now loosened up -THAT's WHAT SHE SAID!-, it appears that I again have got to do something differently in my classroom pedagogy, because they’re starting to slack off for whatever reason. It’s just odd, that both classes are treated in very similar manners, yet one gives me problems and the other has sick people coming to class, just to give me an essay, because he's scared of me, and doesn't want to piss me off.

And finally, here’s the rub: Student A, the first person I gave the pass to, still hasn’t turned her paper in. So I failed her, because it’s too late by that point to turn it into me. Especially after I told her that I needed it by the end of the day on Friday and now it's Tuesday and I haven't heard a word from her, explaining to me what's going on. So basically, she's up shit creek without a paddle when it comes to this particular paper, which is worth 20% of her grade.

So, let's sum up for the night, and see where we stand, in regards to me. I guess, I've come to the conclusion that I'm the type of guy who really can be too vindictive when it's in regards to my students and their perceived lack of respect for me, especially if I've even felt slightly personally disregarded in any way, and when this happens the fury of Tony comes out and sets things on fire! And my students either haven't figured out that's the type of personality that I am, or aren't smart enough - or worldly enough - to know not to screw with me, because I basically already hold their lives in my hand, and as we've seen from my previous blogcast - a new word I think I'm going to use in regards to my blog, either that or TBone's SpoutCast, we'll see if that catches on; that's a mouth fool though; THAT'S WHAT.. too easy - anyways going back; I'm particularly willing to fail someone when I feel they deserve it, and might even do a little pirouettes once I'm done.

Conspiracies and wood

Sorry folks, it's been a little while, but business before pleasure, and I've been busy within the world of academia. So, let's catch up, and rewind.

I dropped that kid... gave him every opportunity available, but he just wouldn't stop disappointing me in my expectations. Really, I should have dropped him last week sometime, but I was either too busy or too lazy to get around to it; i'm really not sure which, probably a little bit of A and B. So Monday rolled around, and dropping him from my class was on my to do list, but before I could get to the English department office after I was done teaching for the day, he motioned for me while I was in my classroom before I started teaching my 9am class to come out into the hallway to talk to him. He asked me if I would allow him to drop the class with a 'W,' meaning the dropped class wouldn't affect his GPA, and I, for some damn reason, said sure, and told him to go get the form he needed, to fill it out, and to come see me during my office hours and I'd sign off on it for him. So once I finished teaching for the day, I checked my email and discovered yet another email from this guy, telling me that he couldn't drop online, and what did he need to do. So I then went to the office, got the correct form, and filled it out for him, and my response to his email told him to come to my office, grab the form that I had filled out for him and to take it to the registrar. Do you think he did that? Nope, he never showed up. So by this point, I was fed up with it, and said to myself that if I had to walk that drop form down to the registrar he wasn't going to be getting a W, I was going to fail his ass, which is what he really deserved in the first place.

So let's fast forward a couple of hours, I'm just now getting out of my Monday night American Border Lit class (it's 9pm, so this is like 11 hours after I sent the initial email), and I discover an email from this damn kid, telling me that he had class from 10-12 and he couldn't show up during office hours. Now this is a total lie, because he's shown up before during my office hours... basically at this point, I said to myself, "F- this, I was tired of this kid continually lying to me." So even though I hadn't taken the form yet, I told him he was dropped with a WF (that means I both dropped him and failed him), and he should have contacted me earlier, because after I didn't get a response from him, and he didn't show up to my office, I had done this ultimate act of vengeance upon him and his GPA. So, I skipped to the English Department on Tuesday and dropped him like a hot potato. Now, do I feel justified in this? Hell yes, I do! Why you ask? Because he was a continual pain in my side, always lying to me and giving me fake excuses, and I was tired of it. And remember, this is the same kid who I gave an opportunity to turn in his paper late, but we've already gone over that story. So, for all the nay sayers out there, telling me that I should have given him another opportunity, I tell you to shut your pie hole. I gave him two more opportunities than I have given the rest of my students, and he looked a gift horse in the mouth (yes, I referenced myself as a horse), then squatted and took a shat on my gifts... but not my mouth. Cause that's definitely icky.

However, there have been other ordeals that I have not spoken about, which I feel must be exclaimed. I had a magnificent desk in my second class. It was beautiful; hard wood, big, sturdy, I could have stood on it and screamed at the kids like Satan, and it wouldn't have crumbled under my weight... yet a thief came and took it away from me! And by taking it away, they took away all my sense of superiority, and my sign of authority, over all the students. And what did they leave me with? A lecturn... a cool phallic symbol, but not something that I can throw my feet on top of, or something that I want to sit upon in front of my class; it just leaves me open to too many dirty humored jokes, that I would have to redirect at myself, and how would that help me in retain my wonderful power over my students?

I lamented the loss of my desk. I might have even cried myself to sleep a night or two. But what was I do to? I looked at other classroom, and their desk were gone, too, so I couldn't steal one, and leave some other schlub without a desk. Eventually I found out that my room was not "designated" for a desk, and that is why they took it away... but my rebuttal was that it was a classroom, the teacher needs a desk. Especially when I have 25 students, and only 25 student desk. So I literally had no where to put my shit. However, this argument did not sway anyone to my cause.

However, I am nothing, if not ingenious. So, this is what I did: I saw another desk waiting for surplus out in the hall, and I TOOK THAT BITCH! And to signify what I am willing to do for the sake of my authority, I did it in front of my entire class, while they looked on in awe and maybe a sense of slight horror for my thievery. Nonetheless, I took it, placed it in my room, and have been sitting on top of it ever sense. Now, while it's not nearly as austere as my old desk, it does get the job done, and allows me a place to rest my head and sleep. However, the story does not end there.

So I've been fretting about the fact that another thief is going to come and steal this inferior desk too, and then what am I going to do? So, I don't remember who actually gave me this idea, but I was in my Monday night class (different day than the night spoken about above) and someone said I should put a Do Not Remove sign on the desk, and I thought, "Genius! Why didn't I think of that?" So, fast forward a couple of days: that's exactly what I've done... again in front of my class, who thought it was hilarious. Hopefully this fools the everyman who comes and removes funiture from my classroom; this likely ends that saga of my fretting over the meaningful desk, but I guess we'll wait and see.

However, I do have a fun story about sitting on desk, and a student. I was in my 8am class, and had just hopped onto the desk to sit. A student ask me why I did that? And I told her the truth: that I like reining above all my students, and making them feel small, while I retain power over them in the classroom... she didn't like this response, nor did she find it very funny. So I gave a second, less true answer: that I like to be able to see all the students' faces, and by sitting on the desk, I could. This seemed to reassure her, and I went on with the class. Now, while the first response was probably more truer than the second (even though the second answer was also true-ish) I do find it funny, that when they think I'm joking, I'm usually telling them the truth about how I feel. I really do like sitting on top of the desk, because they are forced to pay attention to me, and regard me as their superior in this classroom dynamic. Why? Because I'm a narcistical maniac, who never had power before, and now that I do, I reign over all in this proverbial hell that I call English 1310.

Last thing: So, I pretty much hate my Monday night class. Can't stand the teacher's pedagogy (that means teaching style) and most of the students in there are quite annoying to me, mainly because they're first year Grad Students who don't really know their ass from a hole in the ground. But getting back to the teacher: he's just not that good. I like him personally, but professionally, he kinda lame. He keeps changing the syllabus, and adding more and more work onto our already heavy work load for this particular class.

So on Monday, he handed back our papers that we turned in two weeks ago. And the grade ranges from C- to A-, with only one person getting an A-. I got a B+, and felt that was really the grade I deserved for that paper, because I was pretty disinterested in the subject matter, and was rewriting that thing about 15 minutes before class started to make it pertain more to the subject matter and not the theory that I was using to view the subject matter. So, a B+ was fine with me, and I figured since I had two more papers still to do, I'd make up for it in the long run.

However, the doctorate student beside me, who's been bitching about this class the entire semester, wasn't happy with the grade she got, and continued to get progressively more pissed off as the class went on; this might be because the professor, stupidly, gave the papers back at the beginning of class, instead of the end like he really should have... especially with people getting C-'s, which I bet were quite a few, after looking at my fellow students' faces.

Fast forward to Wednesday: The doctorate student sees me in the hall studying, and rolls up on me. She says that she and another doctorate student are going to go speak to the Dean of the English department about this particular professor, and she knows that I have also spoken to the professor about the work load, too - which I have, I had a conference with him, and he was saying that he didn't know about the university's standard when it came to papers and such, and I told him that what we are doing was a pretty heavy, it's usually one whole less paper than what he's having us do. Going back, she asked me if I wanted to join her and this other doctorate student when they went to talk to the dean, and I QUICKLY distanced myself from that idea. There was no way in hell I was going to get mixed up in those shenanigans. And that would also not be the way to introduce myself to the freaking dean of the English department: "Hi dean, I'm here to bitch about one of you tenor tracked adjunct professor. How's it going?" No way in hell, as I already said before.

So, to sum up, it looks like I'm a hot commodity around here, even more so than tartar sauce at an all you can eat fish place! I'm so wanted, people want me in their conspiracy groups against other people. Awesome, screw the Shriners, I'm wanted by the most prestigious of secret groups: The Let's Bitch About our Work Load and Try to Screw over a Teacher Secret Society. I see nothing but bad things happen to that little group... I smelled the proverbial fart in the wind, and I'm will be staying up wind, laughing when they finally step in the big turd on their adventure to harp about how things are unfair in their classroom.

Observations and Salutations

Apparently I'm a better liar than I ever thought I was, and for a while now, I've thought I wasn't too bad at putting on a straight face and lying through my teeth when the occasion was required. However, for you to understand how I've come to this conclusion, let's go back to Friday. On this most unholy of days, I was observed in my class by my boss. I made sure that I was extra prepared for this day, and since I knew it was coming two weeks in advance, I manipulated my syllabus assignment schedule to make sure I had something good to talk about that day.

So to not to bother you with the details, my lecture went very well, and we had a very good class where there was a lot of student interactions with me, and a very good class discussion; I basically looked like I knew what the hell I was doing. After class was over with, I asked my boss if she thought I did a okay job, and she seemed enthusiastic enough about my class, that I wasn't worried about our meeting about my performance a couple of hours later (my class ended at 10. and the meeting was at noon).

Now let's fast forward two hours - I'm plan on backtracking for another story further down, but let's finish one story off before we begin another. It's meeting time, and my boss and I actually turn different corners at the same time, so I say, "Perfect timing." and we walked into her office together. She started the meeting by telling me that she was pleased with the class as a whole, and asked me how I had felt about it? I told her what I just told you people, that I thought it went well, and that I felt that overall everyone seemed to be really clicking today; I was glad I'd threatened them on Wednesday with their lives if they didn't make me look good for my observation. After that, we discussed my lecturing style. She paid me a complement a couple of times: saying that she could tell that I was smart (fooled her!), and that I seemed very comfortable at the front of the classroom. However, she then went on to say that I spoke to "high" for some of the students, and that though most seemed to really be jiving with me, a few just didn't seem to get it. My response to this statement, and I'm going to try to be as close to verbatim on this as possible, was, "I feel that I need to put a little bit of stress on my students intellectually, because I don't think that learning can be done if they are not having to stretch to meet a goal. And that's why I talk at them more intellectually than I could, because I want them to grow in this class." I think she fell for my bullshit remarks, but I do feel that there is a lot of truth in what I said to her. I know that I grow intellectually when I have someone to stress me mentally, and that's how I keep myself from platowing or becoming stagnant... which, to be honest, is one of the reasons why I left my last job; I just felt that I was never challenged and my brain, when I wasn't putting my own stresses upon it, was becoming lethargic. Regardless of that fact, I feel that her comment about me talking too academic to my students is really what's wrong with society at the moment. We, as a society, have decided that we need to dumb down our conversations and dialogues so that everyone can understand what we are talking about. Instead of letting the few slip behind, and allowing the others to flourish, we as a society feel that we should always allow those few to catch up. But what does this do to the majority? It creates a scenario where by placating the few, we stigmatize the many, and the majority is punished for the incompentencies of the minority.

So, why should I talk down to my students, when the majority understand not only what I'm asking, but are growing from our discussion? And to be honest, they do appear to be growing; by my stressing their intellectual abilities and taking them slightly out of their comfort zones, I'm creating a sphere inside my classroom where they want to answer my questions - some appear to be chomping at the bits to do this - and they are starting to ask me questions, too, that challenges me to answer them. It's not my problem really, that some can't hang, if they're not able to think at a higher level, maybe they're not in the right place -an university/college - to begin with. Basically, what I'm saying is this: I'm not planning on dumbing down my lectures for two or three people, when the rest of my class is growing.

Okay, so that's my rant about what's wrong with society, in general. Let's flashback to Wednesday, and talk about one of my students, and why he's a dumbass. On Monday, the personal essay papers were due. I actually gave them an extension, because of my swine flu, so they all had more than enough time to actually do their papers and if any problems arose, they should have been able to solve their own problems and get them to me on time. However, Wednesday after class, a student who has been notoriously absent from my class came up to me, and asked if I had received his emailed paper. Now, at this point in the semester, he's already has 6 absences, and I'm patiently waiting for him to be absent one more time so I can run (or maybe skip) to the English department and drop him like a sack of potatoes. Why? you ask. Because the kid's been a thorn in my side, continually giving lame excuses for being absent, but then expecting me to hold his hand and help him out since his first absences the second week of school. So, when he came to me after class on Wednesday, I wasn't in the best of mindsets when I saw him strolling my way. But the question he asked, if I had received his email, took me off balance. I told him that "No, I hadn't received an email from him since last week, when he was telling me that he wasn't going to be in class again, but on top of that, I don't accept emailed papers, as stated in the syllabus, they must be put into my hand." His response was that his email must have missed up, that his printer hadn't been working, and another excuse that I can't remember. Regardless, I must have been in a nice mood, because I told him that I was going to be nice, and though I don't accept late papers, I was going to make an exception this time. So, i told him, here's a direct quote: "That he'd better go find a printer, right now, print it out, and give it to me, like five minutes ago; and he'd better never do this again." So he asked me where my office is, even though he's been there before, and scampered off to who know's where.

Ten minutes later, I look on my iPhone, and see I have a new message. Guess who it's from? This stupid student. He had actually sent me his God Damn paper over an email, after I explicitly told him to go find a printer, print his GD paper off, and put it in my GD hand! So, my response to him was something along the lines of telling him that: I had told him to put this paper in my hand, why did you email it to me? And then, I waited for a response from him or to see him show up before I left my office for the day. But do you think my expectations where fulfilled with this guy? No! He never responded back to my email, or came running with his paper in his hand. So, I was pissed. I felt like I'd given him a gift, and he'd pissed on it; and too top it off, his essay didn't follow the prompt I gave everyone; wasn't long enough; and was poorly written, when he had an extra two days on top of the weekend to work on it, because obviously, his email was working fine when telling me he couldn't show up for class last week because he was "sick" and I had just received another email from him, so miraclously the most important email he ever sent me is of course going to screw up somehow.

Regardless, I was pissed for most of Wednesday and Thursday. However, when he showed up on Friday, after I got done cursing in my mind that I still can't drop him like he's hot, all that anger/resentment for some reason just went away. So after class I saw him smoking outside, I walked up to him, and asked why he would send me an email of his paper, when I told him explicitly, that he needed to put it in my hand (and isn't that what she said!). Sorry, getting back to the story... i then went on to tell him that I'm sorry, but he received a zero for that paper, because by this point it was way too late to turn it in. He looked at me, and said that, "he feels like for this class, he's always having to try to catch up for some reason." I asked him why he thought that was, knowing full well what the answer was, but wanting him to work it out himself. He responded with, "I think I've been absent too many times already." Thanking my stars that he came to this conclusion all on his own, I said, "I think you're right. " And I then said that the only advice I could give him at this point, is that he still had the opportunity to drop the class without it affecting his GPA negatively, I then told him who to talk to, and added if he needed me to, I'd be willing to sign off on the sheet. So we'll wait and see... however, I'm not holding my breathe on the matter.

Too bad my boss didn't see this exchange either, I felt that it went rather well, all pains in the ass this kid has caused me considered. But nonetheless, going back to my very first point, I was right, I had fooled her into believing I actually knew what I was doing, and had appeared to be a very competent teacher in front of my class. So I have a job in the Spring. Oh, and that Shakespeare class I'm going to be helping teach: Senior Level, bitches. No one get's to teach at that level! ButI somehow weaseled my way into the mind of my Shakespeare professor, and he for whatever reason thought of me, when this opportunity presented itself. So it's going to be 3 doctorate students, who are close to, if not already working on, their dissertations, and me, some idiot who know's how to lie really well, and fool doctors into thinking that I'm smart. Now, if I can only fool one of those female seniors... never mind.

Lions, Tigers and H1N1, oh no!

It's been a little while since I've made a post, mainly because I got a confirmed case of Influenza A, meaning I had a 97% chance of having Swine Flu... so I've been pretty darn sick. In fact, the only thing I've really been doing is laying around, watching Supernatural on DVD. Nope, no homework, which is what I should have been doing, instead i watched the boob tube, and tried to remind myself, that the fact that I'm still breathing means I'm not dead yet... because sometimes that's all I had going for me, especially on Sunday, when I felt like a truck full of bricks had hit me. In fact, I was so bad on Sunday, that I had to get my friend Ryan to come over and bring me medicine, because I couldn't get out of the house. I am actually suprised that I was able to get down stairs, and open the door for him, so he could get into the apartment; that's how sick I was.

Anyways, I'm back now, so let's get to this. And when I say, this, I really mean, that I'm hoping that this post will motivate me to go edit a paper, because it's due in about 4 hours, and I'm just not digging it, don't really want to rewrite it at this point, but don't know what else to do, to make it work. That's right! I'm now using my blog as a means of distraction from writing an essay. Oh Facebook, have you too forsaken me, that I have to go write a blog, because you can no longer keep me entertained? And the same goes for you too Free Cell, why are you too easy on the easy mode, but too challenging on the medium mode... and don't even get me started on hard (that's what she said!), because that mode should actually be called Im-freaking-possible.

So, onto work related stuff, my students had their first paper due today. I was nice, and accepted one late from a dude in my 8am class who happened to find me in the hall (because he wasn't in class, d'uh). And I told him to never show up like that again, but I took it this time. Sadly, I thought that cat was gonna be one of my interesting students, because he did creative writing outside of class, but it doesn't appear like that is going to be the case. And on top of that, his paper was like a page and a half, when it was suppose to be three pages... so, he's not going to get a great grade - it might be passing, but we'll have to wait and see.

And since I've been sick, I changed the due date to today (Monday), but I have one dude who didn't get that, for whatever reason, and even though I said in class that I had pushed back the due date (from Friday), and he was ready on Friday to turn it in, he hadn't made his edits from his peer review, and was not ready to turn the essay in. But I actually talked to him after class, and told him to get it into my email boss by noon on Tuesday, and I'd still accept it from him. I guess I did this for him because he seems like a nice guy, and he's been to class, I think, every day. So I gave him a pass until tomorrow... hopefully he doesn't make me regret that I gave him a slide, and he actually gets it to me. I'll guess we'll see... and when I say we, I mean me, because I doubt I mention it on the blog again... so we can assume he probably got it turned in if I don't say anything about it again, because I'll bitch about it, if he takes my present and then screws me over.

Anything else new? Well, I'm glad you ask, but nothing is really coming to mind. I must be boring. I've just started to eat solid foods again, after being sick for over a week. And, if anyone needs to lose about 15 pounds in a hurry, I have to recommend getting the flu, because I bet I've lost at least that much. Just between Sunday and Monday (I don't think I've mentioned yet, that I went to the doctor on monday, sorry), I lost about five pounds, and what I thought I was going to weight and what I did weight when I got on the scale was a pleasant surprise for me. In fact, I'm pretty sure that this is the new weigh loss program for me: get the flu every year, and lose that fifteen you put on with all that birthday cake and beer that you ate throughout the year. Yeah! Why not? I'm going to write that book... "eating your way to a more successful you! Just Get the Flu!"

AND I'M BRINGING HELL WITH ME!!!!

Many of you have no idea how horrible it is to stand in front of a class, and know that even though you assigned an essay that should have been read, that your students' blanks eyes spell your destruction and also theirs. I told them on Wednesday they needed to read... is it so hard? I read the damn essay a second time (I read it the first time about two weeks ago now) while eating my f'ing apple jacks and drinking my coffee... and i finished the essay before I finished the cereal! So it's not that damn hard! Yet, it seems to me that their lackadaisical attitude is about to change... "why?" you ask inquisitively, person who sits in front of you computer and reads my blog. Because I'm giving them a quiz, that's why!

As you might be able to tell, I'm a little riled up about this.

And on top of that, I kid you not, I think I received five homework assignments from twenty five students from my 9am class. Granted, I forgot to remind them about it, but it was on the syllabus, and once I hand that thing out, it's fair game. So, I'm going to have to tell them that it's time to take some personal responsibilities, and I'm not going to be holding their hands. I've said this time and time again to them, they're in college now, it's time to grow up.

And even more on top of that, I then got 4 different students from my 9 am class trying to email me their shit hours after class is over with. Two actually looked good, and two looked really rushed... however all four failed. Especially this one from a girl - a freshman - who sent it to about 45 minutes after class was over with. You could tell it was rushed, and only half thought-out. and then the idiot actually took an uppity tone with me in the email, granted I'm not sure if she meant to, but I sure as hell read it that way and after rereading it, still believe so. The last one that was sent to me I didn't receive until after I was driving home from Arlington around 11:30 at night. So, he, while not having the best written assignment, at least put a little bit of time into it... and he tried to make me feel bad about his relationship with his father... it didn't, because I read the first line, and said "eh, why even bother, I'm totally not going to accept it." And I then thought, who the hell does this kid think he is, that he can send me a homework assignment 30 minutes before the f-ing day is over with, and still think I'm going to accept it because he tells me about his relationship with his estranged dad!

So, I let them (the students' emails) wait until Saturday morning before responding to them because I didn't want to be too riled up while letting these presumptuous students know that they failed. I was nice enough, I stated that I never receive late work, as stated on my syllabus. Also I didn't remember talking to any of them about sending their homework to me late, but if we did, then remind me, and I'd accept it; all the while knowing good and well, that they hadn't talked to me about shit, that they'd just expected to pass, because they made the minimum effort to get it to me.

And yes, each one said the same thing, I'll paraphrase: "No, we didn't talk about it. I heard you say something like that to someone else, and just assumed that I could do the same thing." Idiots. To began with, I don't remember saying that to anyone, but even if I had 1) they needed to talk to me, and 2) I never received said homework from anyone that I supposedly talked to after class.

And on top of that, I told them on the first day of class that everything needed to be turned in typed, and I think two did just that. However, after seeing that not many had done that I let them slide this time, and said they'd need to make sure to type it next time... which i felt was actually generous of me, because I could have just hands down not accepted it.

I also learned something new on Wednesday (all this above happened on Friday, Einstein can kiss my ass and physics can go to hell, I can time traveling, I just did). Never, ever, when talking to a student, after asking them how they're doing, if they respond with a negative, ask why they're blue. I had a dude in one class, who I happened to see after washing my hands in the restroom - Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I both use the potty and also wash my hands - who disclosed information that I will never not be able to associate with him. (Never do this people, never let someone in with an opening! If you've learned anything today, learn this! Never follow up on a personal question to students with another personal question. okay, back to the story).

So I said, how's it going guy (I still don't know his actual name), and he said that he wasn't doing very well today. And I should have stopped right there, but I thought that with the social contract being what it is, he'd understand that this next question was not actually meant to be answered nor did I really care what his problems were. In fact, I just wanted from him an "eh, it'll all be fine," and then would have talked to him (and I do mean TO there, because it seems that I usually talk at students and not with them) as we walked into class together. Instead, I got this answer: "Well, I'm not doing too good today, because my ex-girl friends is having a really painful abortion right about now, and I have to go see her after this." Silence... from my end.

Now three real question came to my mind at this point: 1) Is it your kid that she's at the moment killing? And if so, do you know God is crying? 2) if it's not your kid, why are you stuck going over there? And where's her baby daddy? 3) What makes you think I want to hear this? Don't you know that I don't care what you response to my previous question is? I just thought of you as a distraction that I was socially obligated to engage with, because I know your face, but not your name, and the moment I walk away, you're not even a blip on my radar? Oh, and I guess I had a fourth question: 4) What's a painful abortion compared to an un-painful one?

Thankfully, I didn't say anything of consequence, just something like, "Well, hope it all works out." and then walked away.

So, as I've said before, I'm not a smart man, when it comes to nicknames; they're usually painfully obvious, and hopefully they hurt you emotionally. So what's this guy's nickname; the name that I always think when I see him now; the name that he's referred to in my mind and hopefully that's the only place in which the nickname comes out: the Painful Abortive Social Stigma or as you can see, since I've capitalized the first letter of each word: that dumbass who told me about his ex-girlfriend's abortion. Like I said, I'm painfully obvious about my nicknames.

Here's another question I'd have liked to ask him by the way: 5) Do you think you're girlfriend wants me to know that she's having an abortion? I bet she didn't post that on her facebook page: "On FaceBook page: What are you doing now: dumbass who told me about his ex-girlfriend's abortion ex-girlfriend: Well, I'm going through a painful abortion... Wish me LuCK!!!"

And then you know this would happen: "Comment from dumbass who told me about his ex-girlfriend's abortion ex-girlfriend's friend: 'Hope it takes! <3 4Ever!'"

defaults and updates

So, after being told by certain people that I needed to jazz up the blog, I have done so... and I gotta tell you, I can't stand the font color on the older post, but I'll eventually figure it out and change it. Until then, I guess squint your eyes and bear it. Sorry that's the teacher who's gotten authority coming out. I've got to figure out how to keep that in check, because it'll really come to bite me in the butt one of these days, if I don't. As someone so eloquently put it, "I'd better check myself, before I wreck myself."

So, the lectures sucked on Monday and Wednesday... no other way to say it besides for it being a major suckfest... and though that might sound really fun, it wasn't. Not for me or the students. After their eyes would glaze over from me talking about punctuation, I'd start doing goofy jokes to try to bring them back to attention... but oh the humanity, they were already gone; lost; never to be seen again, at least not until the next class. And I'll give them props for continuously showing back up, because I was getting bored going over the power points that I was showing them, so I can only imagine what they were feeling. However, I felt like Friday's class went really well... and I'm actually going to plagiarize myself, because I've already written about this in my weekly journal that I'm having to do for a class:

"Well, to be honest, the power points on punctuation didn’t work earlier this week. I know that it can be uninteresting, but I had to stress to my students that it’s going to affect their grade, so they needed to pay attention. And I’m glad that I handed out handouts relating to the punctuations, sentence structures and mechanics on Wednesday. Hopefully after read about it in the textbook (finger’s crossed about that), then paying attention in the lectures (my other hand’s fingers crossed) that they will be hit with a trifecta with the handouts, and even if they won’t be masters on it, they’ll have enough references available for when they need it.

What I felt really worked was the lecture that I did on Friday. I’ve finished with the punctuation portion of the class until the first paper come back my way, and we had a class discussion about how a paper functions; why the five paragraph paper does/doesn’t work; how to start an opening paragraph; how to write a conclusion; what to put in the middle; what constitutes good writing; why I make them write for the first 10 minutes of class; why I make them read different genres and topics in this rhet/comp class. During this class, I sat on the top of the table and we just had a frank discussion about the dos and don’ts of writing. Now granted, this was all in theory and I didn’t show them real applications, but I thought it worked really effectively and the students seemed really engaged. On top of that, the students in both my 8 am and 9 am class actually responded to each other’s comments and I was able to sit back and only direct the conversation when needed. And only once did I have to tell the students in my 9 am class to not cut any other speaker off, because they all started talking at once. Also, I think everyone in my 8am class contributed at least one statement, which was really cool to see, especially since it’s so early and when I first walked in they looked really tired. And another cool thing: my 9am class actually went a couple of minutes over, and I didn’t see anyone packing up early, because they appeared (at least to me) to be really engaged in the class discussion that was taking place inside the room.

I just felt like the Friday lecture was a very effective class, and it showed my students exactly where we were going to be going from this point on, but at the same time let them look back at the previous lectures to understand why we had them."

So, now that the weekly post-script is over with, and we know that I can talk to students and keep them interested, but I can't lecture to them without my own eyes glazing over, let's get to the naughty bits, as my peeps in the UK so eloquently put it... ... ... ...actually I got nothin'.

So... what you know? I was looking at this blog earlier today, and apparently Julie likes the endings best... that's because I'm usually using these blogs as pre-writing sections before I actually go write other things (propaganda, dirty limericks, you know, items of importance), but anyways thanks for the props and the feedback, I really do appreciate it. And it's nice to know that someone out there is actually reading my rants... suckers.

However, I'm going to follow my father's advice and leaving you wanting more (he never gave me that advice... many other colloqualisms, but definitely never that one... I think the Fonz actually gave me that one... AYYYY... regardless, I find that people - and by people, I mean me - more often than not skip what's inside the paranthesis's, so I'll cite him, and let it ride). So no funny, quippy ending, that's both dirty and hilarious this time. Why? Cause I've got nothing, That's why!

However, I will give you something to chew on, at least for about thirty seconds, hopefully. My 18th Century Romantics professor said something... I don't really remember what. I think he was talking about Satan - you know, forked tail guy from the Bible... that book that if you drop can kill cockroaches. Anyways, he said something - it doesn't matter what - and my brain synapses started to spark, and I wrote this down... I've got to do something with it eventually: "The tragic character flaw with Lucifer isn't that he rebelled, it's that he didn't rebel a second time. Instead of reigning in a punishing Hell, he could instead have created another Heaven. That really would have been the proverbial, "Fuck You," to God."

I Glorify Myself in Young Men's Tears

Today, a milestone has been set, and as I write this, it is the end of a very long first day that started with me teaching my first class at UNT as a teaching fellowship professor. While many would have been content to only get through the first day without too many problems, I am not one of those conventional people who hope for the bare minimum. And my day exceed my wildest dream for many different reasons. However, as the witching hour is now in full swing, I will make this somewhat short and sweet... two adjectives that are used with me often; usually with other, more explicit, terms either preceding or quickly following.

Woke up early -6:40- after having a fitful night of sleep, where I awoke many times from odd dreams. Guess it was nerves, but can't really say for sure. Anyways, got to my 8am class early, and handed out the syllabi to those who were already there, and then made the rest of the students pick one up as they shambled like zombies past me towards their seats.

I did the usual speel, reading through the syllabus, telling them not to cheat, and also the absentee policy. It's the established norm, so why mess with a good thing. After this, I had them do a writing assessment using a quote from Nietzsche: "There can be no feast, without first a slaughter."

I told the entire class that once this was done, they could leave for the day. So, I made a mental note to stop them in ten minutes, and spaced out. Nine minutes after they had started writing, at 8:25, another freshman student walked into my classroom. I asked him if he was here for my Rhet Comp class, and when he affirmed gave him a syllabus. One minute later, I told the entire class that they should stop writing; hand in their papers; and to have a good one.

Accordingly, the student who came in had written one sentence, and it wasn't even a good one. I then told him, that if he ever planned to come in that late again, that he should not worry about coming to class at all that day, and made him hand in his paper, too. At this point, the kid started getting teary eyed and squeaked out, "But this class will affect my GPA."

I responded, some might say harshly, however I feel appropriately, with "Yes, it will. Now turn in your paper." Then took his paper, and left the class.

Nothing of interest happened in the second class at 9am. I let them out at roughly the same time as the class before (about 30 minutes in) but stuck around in the classroom, to look over the assessments. A freshman student strolled into the classroom at 9:40, and I asked her if she was suppose to be there for my 9 O'clock class. She, I believe, said yes. So I lecturing her too, telling her that if she's going to be this late to a class, that she, in my opinion, wasn't here at all, and there's no point to be showing up to my class; and it'd also better not happen again.

Turns out she's not in my class; she showed up 20 minutes early for the 10am class in that room. So I quickly appologized to her, told her what had happened not an hour earlier, and thankfully, she laughed off the lecture.

It's funny, now that the day has finished and I'm able to look back with at least a little perspective, I wasn't at all nervous while standing in front of the classroom, and really enjoyed my first day. And boy, I have to tell you, I sadly reveled in making a student cry (I count glassy-eyedness as crying)... and, I being the deplorable person that I am, have also told quite a few people about the shock I but this poor bastard through on both his and my first day. Oh well, I bet if he's still in my class on Monday, he's there early.

And though some believe that my being a hardass wasn't helpful to the situation, I felt that my authority needed to be established quickly, and was really not willing to allow a student to show up 25 minutes late to one of my classes. It's much easier to loosen up (THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID) as the semester goes along than to keep trying to grab for that elusive authority halfway through a semester, an authority that you never had to began with, since you didn't established the power/authority situation with your students early in the semester. And now that I've tasted the sweet sweet sugary power of authority, I want more... if need be, I'll become the Prince that Machiavelli spoke of, to rule this kingdom that I have commanded over for one day from 8-8:50 and 9-9:50! I really should put above the door to my classroom Abandon hope, all ye who enter here... and to end with one more literary allusion, Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven... bitches.

Eating a Tostada is tough

Before we even start the title comes from something I said to my friend Skyler while we were at lunch today, and I thought that I would share the wealth of my quote with the world... or the friends who actually follow this blog.... so to be perfectly honest: with myself because no one else reads this, but nonetheless, it's out there now, and available for the masses.

On Friday a bunch of the TFs met at lunch for the first time. To be honest, it just re-enforced my misanthropic nature towards humankind. While I stole this line from Nick (we might have actually come up with it together, but I'll give it to him anyways), it still applies: “I like persons, but really do hate people.” It just seems to me that that people in this day and age don't desire to do well in their job, instead they foster a lackadaisical paradigm, that, I feel, causes a rippling effect that can be felt throughout the entire community; meaning in this particular case both instructors and students. I'll stop speaking in metaphorical terms and spell it straight out. More than half of the table had not started their syllabi yet, and weren't even stressed about it!

I had already finished working on my syllabus by this point, and had been working on it for at least two weeks prior. Their lack of stress about something that's going to be affecting them for the next 16 weeks left me agog with uninterest in them... maybe a little judgmental on my part, but nonetheless, judgment has been done and placed solely on their heads. And while they might not talk the same way in front of their superiors, I am their colleague and am not easily swayed to re-evaluate persons once I have judged them, and judge harshly I did.

Also, there was a girl there who I had taken a class with my first semester at UNT; whom at first I couldn’t place, but placed she quickly was. Now while I could tell you her name, if I could remember it, I'd rather just use the nickname that I gave her: 2 cents harpy... or ch2 for short. Why ch2? Well, the name's pretty self-explanatory, besides I'm not that smart, so ch2 is what it was and is. However I'll explain a little further, and give a quick overview of the orientation day, and then we (you being the reader and me being the writer binds us together to form a 'we') will be done.

At first I couldn't quite place her, because she reminded me of another ch2 from UTA, but oh how the memories quickly come back when annoying comes your way. I really don't have the writing skills to express what she does that annoys me so much, it's just the fact that whenever anyone else says anything, she wants to put her two cents in, no matter it's relevance or usually ‘un’ for her. And though she might do this as a means of encouraging her fellow speak, with a "No kidding," or "Yeah, totally," it soon becomes an annoying occurrence that cannot be stopped and must be tuned out.

So at the lunch on Friday, one ear learned to have selective hearing, while my other ear was turned to another woman I've known since my first semester here by the name of Jessica, who I find to be a good conversationalist, and a person who I have a friendly rapport with, even though I haven't spoken too much to her. Accordingly, I joked around with Jessica, and also a friend of hers, for most of the lunch and didn't turn my head the other way unless address by the chick who was sitting beside me.

Fast-forward to Monday, the day that is only part 1 of my orientation (part 2 is Tuesday). I walk in; sit down, and as per usual, someone I can't stand ends up sitting next to me. And guess who that someone is: ch2. And today she has a retort to everything the instructor is saying... and I just want to turn to her and ask, "Can't you just shut up every once in a while?" Now, to be honest, she wasn't nearly as annoying as I'm creating her to be, and I did learn quite a bit during the orientation, but she was a distraction to me throughout the 4 hours there, and I did notice, much to my own chagrin, that when she spoke I did hear her... much in the same way that one hears a leaking faucet. It's in the background, only slightly noticeable, but after a time, becomes quite annoying. Actually that might be a better nickname that 2 cents harpy, and much more original! So Harpy she once was, and Leaky she now is... however I'm not going to combine the two, because then she'd be a Leaky Harpy. And that's just gross.

Day 1

Lets start with the beginning, and explore what has now come to be called The Meeting of the Dunces that was my moving day.

It starts off all well and good: I woke at 7:30 and got a shower, and then awoke my father at 8, so we could go get the Uhaul. Now, while finding the guy who was renting the uhaul was a little annoying, and I had to call so he could tell me where he was at in a huge office building, when it was all said and done, it wasn't too unpleasant. And even though he screwed me out of 1/4 a tank of gas, because he said that the uhaul had 3/4ths of a tank when in actuality it only had ½ (not bitter about that at all), if that was the only thing that I could bitch about, then, I would consider myself a happy camper... this is not the case.

We got the Uhaul loaded with some drama, but it did get finished; when all said and done; it was pretty full, but we could have loaded more in if we had needed to. Then we (the family) had to wait for 11 o'clock to roll around, because I was called the Thursday before, and told that I couldn't pick up my keys until noon.

The road trip wasn't too eventful. We did have to stop once, because somehow my parent's hood decided to come unlatched and it was vibrating along with the music and really freaking my parents out. And then even though the caravan of car (me in the Uhaul, and Nick in the Camry) were behind them, they decided to stop in the fire lane at a local library in fort worth to fix it, instead of going into the actual parking lot, and letting us easily turn into the library parking lot with them... this was still not too bad.

The move in was relatively easy, and my buddy Ryan, whose place I can walk to in 2 minutes, came over and helped us out. My Mom unpacked all the boxes, while the men did the heavily lifting.... insert sexist comment here.

Nick told me at some point during us passing each other with boxes that the tire sensor in my car had gone off, but I wasn't worried about it. I've been getting those tires fixed on a regular basis, because of all the road construction that's been going on in Arlington. So I'm used to having a slow leak, and getting it fixed at an indeterminate time in my future schedule, that I call my life.

I figured since we got me moved in, in about 1 hour, and it was only now 1:30, we'd have more than enough time before the pizza would get here (I had ordered Papa John's the night before, and it was being delivered at 2:30).

Nick, Ryan and I went to the Uhaul after filling the damn thing up with $50 worth of gas, when I really only should have paid half of that, since I only used 1/4 of a tank to get up here. When Nick was backing my car up, I noticed that the tire he mentioned two paragraphs earlier was as flat as I want my stomach to be, that is to say, as flat as a tortilla.

When we dropped off the Uhaul, some punk-ass kid who worked there came up to me, and asked if I wanted to clean the back of the Uhaul. I said, "No." I was not wanting to clean the Uhaul, and he asked me if I could. I at this point was starting to get really annoyed, and went English major on him. I said something like, "No I could not clean the back, because I do not have anything to clean it with. Nor was I particularly wiling to; however, why do I need to clean it anyways." He stated it was filthy... I went and looked at it, and decided to disagree with his assessment. However, I told him to bring me something to sweep it out with, so I could get out of here. After using the broom for 20 seconds, to sweep out about 20 leaves, I told him it was done, slung a few choice words about him while getting Nick and Ryan (he was in earshot, so I bet he heard) and then went to go look at my tire.

It was flat.

So, instead of changing it right there, we decided to drive to the gas station at the corner, and fill it with air, and to then change it back at my place. This game plan, while a good one, proved to not be applicable, when it was all said and done.

We got back to my place, and waited a short amount of time for the pizza to show up. The movers then ate it all, but were nice enough to leave me about 8 beers, which I'm still slowly finishing off.

After a little while longer, my Dad was ready to go, it is about 4 at this point, and when my dad gets this particular bug in his bonnet, he's not easily dissuaded. So, I told them that I'm going to go look at my tire, and see how it looked before they left. It's flat again. So with everyone looking at me, I am trying to change this stupid tire, but the damn nut would not break. Finally after torquing on it for a good 2 minutes, I gave up and ask my dad to try to break it. He couldn't break it either... the only thing I broke was my damn toe, kicking the tire.

So, it's good my Mom is a member of AAA. We called them, and told them the problem, that we're not able to break this damn nut, and asked if they would come out and try to do something with it... preferably change my tire.

So, now my Dad's stuck here for another thirty minutes, because my Mom doesn't want to leave, since the AAA membership is in her name, and now they're both worried about what I'm going to do about my tire.

So the AAA guy finally shows up, gets his wrench out, puts it on the security lock nut... and he can't break the damn thing off either. Finally, he gives up, tells my parents that he doesn't usually do this, and starts to plug and refill my tire.

By this point, I'm frantically calling Discount Tires, because they're the one who put that damn nut on so tightly that I couldn't get it off, to see if they can fix my tire. It's 4:45 when I call, they close at 5; so that's not going to happen.

I then call Walmart, a suggestion from Ryan, because they too have a tire shop, and it's really close to the discount tire... so close that I'm able to curse at the Discount tire and throw half peace signs at them while I drive past at 5:05 towards the Walmart.

The tech at Walmart tells me that it'll be about an hour to an hour and a half, before they can get to my car. I say, "Okay" and walk in to buy groceries while I wait. Fast forward an hour and $150 later, and I'm waiting for them to tell me that I need a new tire (which I already new).

Fast forward another forty minutes... the stupid woman who works as the customer rep for the garage section of the Walmart comes up to me, and tells me that the mechanic that had looked at my tire found absolutely nothing wrong with it. I stare at her dumbfounded, because I know there's a HUGE plug in the tire, and it needs to be fixed... I at this point am starting to silently hurl the filthiest curse words at this woman. Ryan at this point chimes in, and asks, "Did the tech look at the right tire?"

I at this point am silently praising him. The woman starts looking at the paperwork, and suprise suprise, the idiot hadn't. I tell her, that I expect my car to get the hell back on that lift right now, because I've already been here for almost two hours at this point, and this (the incompetency of Walmart) is getting ridiculous.

She at this point can see I'm getting more and more pissed by the second, and says of course. So I ask her if I've just become her number one priority, and she says that the moment the idiot tech (my name for the mechanic, not hers) gets done with this other tire, he'll get right back on mine. Another hour passes.

At this point, I'm furious, and am openly mocking the customer service woman, the two mechanics out in the garage, and I’m not even muttering the curse words at this point, but am openly throwing F-bombs and GDs left and right to every person that I can see, and this does include customers who are coming up to the woman, because she apparently also cuts keys... I find this ironic, because she's obviously not the sharpest knife in the draw.

Finally, this woman comes up to me, and tells me that the mechanic says I need a new tire, and I say to her, "D'uh. I told them that 2 and a half hours ago." She leaves me again, and then comes back with some numbers for pricing. She expected me to go with the cheap ass tire, but I'm not an idiot, I get the cheap one, and I'll be back there tomorrow, so I picked the most expensive one. Now, let me have poetic license for one moment, and set the scene: The room is gray, a gray that used to be white, but one too many dirty children had rubbed their redneck unwashed dirty hands against the wall, and it was now permanently off white. On top of that, the floor, a cheap linoleum, had not seen a mop and water since this particular Walmart had been born when the devil came to earth one night, squatted, and then squeezed out this new hell that was the building. On top of all of this, the humming from the florescent lights has started to give me a headache, and I was so pissed that I had stopped cussing and gotten really quite. At this stage, Tony (and Nick can back me on this) stops talking and starts hitting.

The woman starts asking questions, and I am answering with monosyllabic answers, mainly Yes's and No's and I’m pretty sure I grunted at one point, too. Also, I’m not responding to any of her trite apologies about my wait. Finally, when she's done, she gives me a total, and tells me that once the put the new tire’s on, I can pay, and leave. 30 minutes pass.

Finally, they've pulled my car back into the garage, and put it back onto the lift. Now the mechanic (a younger one than the original who looked at the wrong f'ing tire) starts to try to get the tire off. Ryan and I see this guy working, trying to get this damn tire off for a good 15 minutes, I think, but truthfully, I seeing red by this point, and might have blacked out for a second... however, he was trying long enough, that I asked the woman to go see what's the idiots (my words again) problem, and why the hell he hasn't gotten the damn tire off yet. She says okay, and walks out again. She doesn't return for 5 minutes.

Finally, the younger mechanic (the one trying to get my tire off) comes in, and tells me that he can't get the nut to break, and that he also broke my security lock on my tire. He then precedes to hand me my newly broken security lock, and says I need to take it to discount tire. I don't say anything I just take the lock. Once I turn around, I start throwing cuss words again. I cuss so loudly and with such vehemence, that it shocks a man who's roughly in his 40s, and he asks me what's wrong. I start ranting about the incompetency of Walmart, and the ordeal that I’ve been going through for the last 3 hours and some odd minutes. He says he's sorry to hear about my problems, and walks away. I hope that I dissuaded him from buying anything at the Walmart, but probably, he wanted to get away from the man who was cussing and very likely foaming at the mouth.

Finally, I grab my groceries, and take them to the bay door that my car is parked at. However, I can't put them in, because my car is still on the lift, and the mechanic who was working on my car is nowhere to be seen. Finally I see him, he had somehow scampered in without me knowing, and was talking to the other idiot mechanic (yes, the one who looked at the wrong tire), who was working on some other slub's car; suckers.

I got up to him, interrupt him mid-sentence, and tell him that I’m ready to leave, and could he please get my damn car off his gd lift gate. He moves... quickly.

After I had gotten my groceries into my car, I discover that the air pressure sensor was on again telling me the air pressure was low, and asked the same mechanic to please fill up my tire enough, so I could actually get home.

Once I finally get home, I put my groceries up, and go over to Ryan's, so we can order some takeout, since neither one of us wants to cook.

They (Red Boxx, a pretty tasty Chinese place up here) gets there pretty quickly, I ate about 1/4 of my food, and then went home, took a shower and went to bed, wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into.

Just as a P.S. to this story about the first day:

I did get my tire fixed on Monday. It cost me $16 for the road hazard, and I got a new tire for free along with new security tire nuts.