Thursday, April 15, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
the cardigan chronicles
November 25, 2008
School Day #58 (is that all!!!???)
English 3, Period 4
They would not shut up.
Me: That's it. I'm done. I understand the play.
I closed my copy of Macbeth and went to my desk.* Willow came to me lightly, beseechingly. She honed in on her $2,000 Aura Motorola cell phone, which I had taken from her sometime during Act 2. According to Willow, the phone's exquisite interface and 62-carat sapphire crystal lens was aspired (inspired, Willow, inspired!) by the design of high end watches, such as the TAG Heuer her brother wears. Apparently the Lexus for her birthday wasn't enough.
Willow: Ms. M! Please please please can I have my phone? My parents will massacre me!
Me: A massacre, Willow, implies slaughtering a quantity greater than one. For your parents to inflict massacre by definition would require that they slaughter more than just you.
Willow: Miss M., pleeeeeeeease. I studied, like, so hard for this test today, and I know I did good..."
Me: Well, Willow. The word is well. You may have done good, but you certainly didn't do well. Well is an adverb and good is an adjective and did is a...um, what does your test have to do with your illegal texting in my class?**
Willow: Miss M.! If I get my cell phone taken away. They'll call my parents.
Me: You already did get your cell phone taken away, Willow.
Willow: If you take my cell phone to the office, Miss M., they'll call my parents. They'll kill me. And I'm supposed to leave town for Thanksgiving.
Me: Where are you going?***
Willow: Vail.****
I handed back the phone.
Me: Happy Thanksgiving, Willow. Don't do it again. You shall never experience such leniency on my part again.
Willow (jumping up and down): Miss M. I love you! Thank you thank you thank you. Wait, experience what?
*This move on my part may seem harsh to those who have never helmed a classroom full of 16 year olds. However, I assure you that ending the very lesson to which no one is paying attention midway through is classified as HIGHLY EFFECTIVE among high school teachers. Such a move may also be classified as a preemptive one on my part.
**I know the answer to this before the question is out of my mouth. There is no connection. This move, which is intended to disorientate authority figures with its faulty logic, is classified as HIGHLY EFFECTIVE in the minds of all 16 year olds.
***This move is not strategic in nature. I'm just being nosy.
****Of course she's going to Vail for Thanksgiving. Of course she is.
School Day #58 (is that all!!!???)
English 3, Period 4
They would not shut up.
Me: That's it. I'm done. I understand the play.
I closed my copy of Macbeth and went to my desk.* Willow came to me lightly, beseechingly. She honed in on her $2,000 Aura Motorola cell phone, which I had taken from her sometime during Act 2. According to Willow, the phone's exquisite interface and 62-carat sapphire crystal lens was aspired (inspired, Willow, inspired!) by the design of high end watches, such as the TAG Heuer her brother wears. Apparently the Lexus for her birthday wasn't enough.
Willow: Ms. M! Please please please can I have my phone? My parents will massacre me!
Me: A massacre, Willow, implies slaughtering a quantity greater than one. For your parents to inflict massacre by definition would require that they slaughter more than just you.
Willow: Miss M., pleeeeeeeease. I studied, like, so hard for this test today, and I know I did good..."
Me: Well, Willow. The word is well. You may have done good, but you certainly didn't do well. Well is an adverb and good is an adjective and did is a...um, what does your test have to do with your illegal texting in my class?**
Willow: Miss M.! If I get my cell phone taken away. They'll call my parents.
Me: You already did get your cell phone taken away, Willow.
Willow: If you take my cell phone to the office, Miss M., they'll call my parents. They'll kill me. And I'm supposed to leave town for Thanksgiving.
Me: Where are you going?***
Willow: Vail.****
I handed back the phone.
Me: Happy Thanksgiving, Willow. Don't do it again. You shall never experience such leniency on my part again.
Willow (jumping up and down): Miss M. I love you! Thank you thank you thank you. Wait, experience what?
*This move on my part may seem harsh to those who have never helmed a classroom full of 16 year olds. However, I assure you that ending the very lesson to which no one is paying attention midway through is classified as HIGHLY EFFECTIVE among high school teachers. Such a move may also be classified as a preemptive one on my part.
**I know the answer to this before the question is out of my mouth. There is no connection. This move, which is intended to disorientate authority figures with its faulty logic, is classified as HIGHLY EFFECTIVE in the minds of all 16 year olds.
***This move is not strategic in nature. I'm just being nosy.
****Of course she's going to Vail for Thanksgiving. Of course she is.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
anyone hiring?
It dawned on me this morning that I have to find a summer job. My professorly* skills are applicable and therefore exchangeable for cash only nine months out of the year, which leaves me in the most unfortunate position of having to break the most solemn vow I ever made to myself: I SHALL NOT WAIT ON ANOTHER TABLE.
Particularly bitter corollaries to this vow included
I SHALL NOT FOLD ANOTHER WHITE NAPKIN INTO A BOAT, A FAN, THE SMALL OF A WOMAN'S BACK, OR ANY OTHER INANIMATE OBJECT OR PERVERSE GEOMETRIC SHAPE THAT THE GM DREAMS ABOUT THE NIGHT BEFORE.
I SHALL NOT POLISH ANOTHER PIECE OF SILVERWARE THAT COSTS MORE THAN THE GRADUATE SCHOOL EDUCATION I WAS FINANCING.
I SHALL NOT SERVE LAMB TO THE NEW YORK TIMES FOOD CRITIC (and I do mean THE as in THEEEEEEE New York Times Food Critic) WHO ORDERED, ummmm, BRANZINO?
I SHALL NOT AGAIN NARROWLY ESCAPE MY OWN DEATH AT THE HANDS OF AN IRATE** CHEF OVER A STUPID LITTLE LAMB PROBLEM.
I SHALL NOT SPEND 95 MINUTES MAKING AN EXTRA FROTHY EXTRA EXTRA HOT HALF CAF HALF DECAF CAPPUCCINO WHICH INCREASES MY TIP BY ABOUT 10 CENTS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PRE THEATER DINNER RUSH BECAUSE Hey lady, This is Manhattan and freaking Starbucks is across the street. TWICE.
*Yes. Guilty. I made this word up and yet, you knew exactly what I meant...
**The phrase "irate chef" is admittedly a little redundant. Chefs, by nature, are irate, which explains why they are so good at using sharp knives, tossing smallish, helpless animals into ovens or boiling pots of water, and throwing root vegetables and heirloom tomatoes at your head.
Particularly bitter corollaries to this vow included
I SHALL NOT FOLD ANOTHER WHITE NAPKIN INTO A BOAT, A FAN, THE SMALL OF A WOMAN'S BACK, OR ANY OTHER INANIMATE OBJECT OR PERVERSE GEOMETRIC SHAPE THAT THE GM DREAMS ABOUT THE NIGHT BEFORE.
I SHALL NOT POLISH ANOTHER PIECE OF SILVERWARE THAT COSTS MORE THAN THE GRADUATE SCHOOL EDUCATION I WAS FINANCING.
I SHALL NOT SERVE LAMB TO THE NEW YORK TIMES FOOD CRITIC (and I do mean THE as in THEEEEEEE New York Times Food Critic) WHO ORDERED, ummmm, BRANZINO?
I SHALL NOT AGAIN NARROWLY ESCAPE MY OWN DEATH AT THE HANDS OF AN IRATE** CHEF OVER A STUPID LITTLE LAMB PROBLEM.
I SHALL NOT SPEND 95 MINUTES MAKING AN EXTRA FROTHY EXTRA EXTRA HOT HALF CAF HALF DECAF CAPPUCCINO WHICH INCREASES MY TIP BY ABOUT 10 CENTS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PRE THEATER DINNER RUSH BECAUSE Hey lady, This is Manhattan and freaking Starbucks is across the street. TWICE.
*Yes. Guilty. I made this word up and yet, you knew exactly what I meant...
**The phrase "irate chef" is admittedly a little redundant. Chefs, by nature, are irate, which explains why they are so good at using sharp knives, tossing smallish, helpless animals into ovens or boiling pots of water, and throwing root vegetables and heirloom tomatoes at your head.
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