One more week until Spring Break. Five measly days. Five days of classes separating me from the bliss of waking up whenever I want, wearing sweats all day, and reading books for pleasure until my eyes fall out. Except for that tiny engagement I have at Tufts on the 11th. I guess I'll have to shower and put regular clothes on for that.
Oh well, you can't have everything.
I'm definitely running on fumes, as are the kids, but I think we'll all make it. We all definitely need the break, too; both of my Latin classes bombed the last test they took, which is NOT good. So, morale is not at it's highest, and break seems all the more enticing and, consequently, far away.
5 days.
Bring it on.
ciao
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Two Incidents
Two incidents from this week, one funny, the other, not so much.
First, the funny one:
I was walking down the hall yesterday when I came upon a few of my students. They greeted me enthusiastically, as always, and we chatted for a moment. Then, out of nowhere, Girl A grabs Girl B's arm, swings here around and shouts, "OMG! Look at Girl B's HICKEY!!!"
Needless to say, I was rather shocked, not just at the fact that Girl B has a hickey (she's a sophomore) but that her friend would blatantly expose her like that. Girl B turned very, very red, grinned sheepishly, then ran into her classroom. Ah, teen drama.
Now, the not so funny one:
Last week, I was giving a test in my Latin 3 class. Apparently it was rather difficult, because as the students were finishing up and leaving, they all looked daggers at me. One student, still working on the test to the very end of the block, was visibly frustrated. As the period ended, he slammed his hand on the desk, shouting, "SON OF A BITCH!" I asked him to calm down, to which he replied, "I will NOT calm down! To you, to everyone else, this is just another test, but I F*CKING need this class to graduate!" He turned in his test and stormed out of the room, kicking the trash can for good measure.
Again, needless to say, I was both shocked and frightened. This particular student is much bigger than me, and if it did come to some sort of violence, which his actions intimated, it wouldn't exactly be a fair fight. It's true that he does need my class to graduate, and that historically he hasn't done well in Latin. That being said, his outburst was totally inappropriate.
I contacted all the appropriate people: adviser, dean of students, academic dean. The next day, the student came into my office and begged for my forgiveness. He was incredibly distraught, and I readily forgave him. Hopefully he has learned to control himself.
Oh, teenagers...
ciao
First, the funny one:
I was walking down the hall yesterday when I came upon a few of my students. They greeted me enthusiastically, as always, and we chatted for a moment. Then, out of nowhere, Girl A grabs Girl B's arm, swings here around and shouts, "OMG! Look at Girl B's HICKEY!!!"
Needless to say, I was rather shocked, not just at the fact that Girl B has a hickey (she's a sophomore) but that her friend would blatantly expose her like that. Girl B turned very, very red, grinned sheepishly, then ran into her classroom. Ah, teen drama.
Now, the not so funny one:
Last week, I was giving a test in my Latin 3 class. Apparently it was rather difficult, because as the students were finishing up and leaving, they all looked daggers at me. One student, still working on the test to the very end of the block, was visibly frustrated. As the period ended, he slammed his hand on the desk, shouting, "SON OF A BITCH!" I asked him to calm down, to which he replied, "I will NOT calm down! To you, to everyone else, this is just another test, but I F*CKING need this class to graduate!" He turned in his test and stormed out of the room, kicking the trash can for good measure.
Again, needless to say, I was both shocked and frightened. This particular student is much bigger than me, and if it did come to some sort of violence, which his actions intimated, it wouldn't exactly be a fair fight. It's true that he does need my class to graduate, and that historically he hasn't done well in Latin. That being said, his outburst was totally inappropriate.
I contacted all the appropriate people: adviser, dean of students, academic dean. The next day, the student came into my office and begged for my forgiveness. He was incredibly distraught, and I readily forgave him. Hopefully he has learned to control himself.
Oh, teenagers...
ciao
Sunday, February 13, 2011
What A Way
I don't think anyone has had as eventful a birthday weekend as I have. And I'm not talking about getting wicked wasted and puking all over the bar (or something along those lines). I'm talking about something so ridiculous, so absurd, it could only be funny, until is isn't...
Below is the statement I wrote out yesterday afternoon, chronicling the events of 2/11 after I had left the bar with my friends. Prepare to be incredulous.
*Note: Names have been changed*
***
Here is my account of the events of last night, 2/11/11
After spending a pleasant evening at the Burren and the Diva Lounge, Tony, Brad, The Boyfriend and I hopped in Tony's car to head back to the apartment. It was somewhere between 11:45pm and 12:15am. After parking, we noticed as we approached the house that the kitchen light, as well as Cynthia's bedroom light, was still on. As we entered, however, we tried to be as quiet and respectful as we could. We went into the kitchen where we saw the remains of a meal strewn across the counters and stove. Tony made a comment about Cynthia knowing that a mouse was still at large and how despite this she never put her food away. I promptly tasted some of the chicken in the pan. What can I say? I was a bit drunk still. We spoke at a fairly normal level, I would even say a notch under, and I was definitely trying to keep my voice down since I know it has a tendency to carry. Brad put water for tea and we gathered around Tony's laptop in the kitchen to see the results of the NCAC Conference meet in which Oberlin was participating. This led to watching the video "Inception Cat," which The Boyfriend did not think was as funny as he should have and might have caused me to laugh a bit more loudly than was strictly polite at that hour.
Shortly after this, Cynthia came down and asked us to keep it down in a very brusque manner. She said that she and her boyfriend had been asleep when we came home and that we had woken them up. We apologized and said we would certainly keep it down. Tony then asked her if she would mind putting her food away since there was still a mouse around. He asked in a very polite and reasonable manner, which was why I was surprised when Cynthia replied along the lines of "Ok, Tony, thanks," in the most sarcastic, mean, tone possible. As she headed out of the kitchen - without clearing up her leftovers - she gave us all the middle finger with her back turned to us. We all sat there, rather shocked but not overly surprised. We started chatting again, this time in very low whispers, and The Boyfriend got into bed.
Tony, Brad and I remained chatting in the kitchen and, a few minutes after she had left, Cynthia came back down and angrily asked us if we planned on being quiet or keeping it down or something along those lines. We all protested that we were being very quiet, barely speaking above a whisper, and Tony pointed out that when The Boyfriend had lived in that room, he (and I) could hardly hear anything going on in the kitchen, no matter how loud. Cynthia insisted that she could hear us "screaming like 12 year olds" which was strange, since no one had been screaming. Tony then said that we had seen her light on when we came home so we knew she had been awake. She insisted that she and her boyfriend had fallen deeply asleep with it on. I then said, flippantly, that it was a good thing she woke up again so that she could turn the light off. Again, still a bit drunk. I don't remember if there was another exchange or not, but then Cynthia said to me, "I don't even know why you're here, bitch," or something to that effect. She definitely called me a bitch. I then said as calmly as I could that everyone who lived there had told us - me and The Boyfriend - that it was ok for us to be there to which she replied "Yeah, only if you were quiet." At this point, I insisted that we were being perfectly quiet and she might have told me to get out of her house. I noted then that I had been friends with her other two house mates long before she moved in, to which she replied, "Yeah, well I live here now," as if she had say over every interaction in the apartment. I was rather shaken up. Afterward, she stormed up the stairs, slamming both sets of doors behind her. I should note that during this entire exchange, Brad, Tony and I were gathered around the butcher block table, with Tony and I sitting next to each other on the bar stools and Brad standing on my left. Cynthia was standing on the other side of the table. I remained seated the whole time.
Once Cynthia had gone upstairs, Brad, Tony and I got ready for and into bed (The Boyfriend and I were sleeping on the futon in the living room). The Boyfriend was still awake so we discussed what had just happened before falling silent and attempting to fall asleep. After about 15 minutes or so, I heard voiced downstairs, then the front door opening. I though it must be the landlords, who live in the first floor apartment, coming back from some late night adventure - that thought made me smile - but then the door buzzer went off several times rather urgently. I heard Cynthia get up and rapidly run down both flights of stairs to open the door. I thought that perhaps she had hypocritically invited some of her own friends over at this odd hour, but as soon as I heard her say "They're upstairs," I knew she had called the cops.
There were four of them and they went down the hall to Tony's room first. Tony then came out and called our names and turned on the light. The four policemen stood in the doorway of the living room looking at us (I think, I didn't have my contacts in) and told us we had to leave. I asked what was going on but they only repeated that we had to leave. I asked permission to put pants on since we were both dressed for sleep. Tony handed us our clothes and we quickly dressed. We gathered with the policemen to try and figure out what was happening. They still only told us that we had to leave. Cynthia was standing behind the group of men. I stated that I had in writing permission from each of the housemates to stay, to which Cynthia said, "Not if you threaten me." The Boyfriend immediately fired back, "You're the one who called *her* a bitch!" so I tried to calm him down instead of attempting to explain that I had never in any way threatened her. The police allowed us to put our contacts in and gather our stuff, and at around 1:30am, we drove home.
***
Needless to say, I was rather shocked over the whole encounter, but, knowing Cynthia as I do, was not shocked. I'm pretty sure she actually convinced herself that I had threatened her in some way. So, The Boyfriend and I managed to laugh about it on our long, tired, drive home at 1:30 in the morning.
Saturday, however, we were not laughing too much. Cynthia had decided to post about the entire false event on her Facebook, eliciting sympathy for her and rather mean-spirited comments for both me and Tony. Not only that, but she went as far as saying that I was "angling for a fight" and "belligerently drunk," neither of which, of course, were true. So now, Tony is talking to his landlords and trying to get the whole thing figured out. I am very hurt and offended and tired out by this whole thing. It's hard to have someone say totally false things about you then have people you don't even know say terrible things about you. I know none of it true, and that my real friends know that too, but still, it's mentally taxing. I just hope the truth comes out once and for all soon.
But still, good story, right?? ;)
ciao
Below is the statement I wrote out yesterday afternoon, chronicling the events of 2/11 after I had left the bar with my friends. Prepare to be incredulous.
*Note: Names have been changed*
***
Here is my account of the events of last night, 2/11/11
After spending a pleasant evening at the Burren and the Diva Lounge, Tony, Brad, The Boyfriend and I hopped in Tony's car to head back to the apartment. It was somewhere between 11:45pm and 12:15am. After parking, we noticed as we approached the house that the kitchen light, as well as Cynthia's bedroom light, was still on. As we entered, however, we tried to be as quiet and respectful as we could. We went into the kitchen where we saw the remains of a meal strewn across the counters and stove. Tony made a comment about Cynthia knowing that a mouse was still at large and how despite this she never put her food away. I promptly tasted some of the chicken in the pan. What can I say? I was a bit drunk still. We spoke at a fairly normal level, I would even say a notch under, and I was definitely trying to keep my voice down since I know it has a tendency to carry. Brad put water for tea and we gathered around Tony's laptop in the kitchen to see the results of the NCAC Conference meet in which Oberlin was participating. This led to watching the video "Inception Cat," which The Boyfriend did not think was as funny as he should have and might have caused me to laugh a bit more loudly than was strictly polite at that hour.
Shortly after this, Cynthia came down and asked us to keep it down in a very brusque manner. She said that she and her boyfriend had been asleep when we came home and that we had woken them up. We apologized and said we would certainly keep it down. Tony then asked her if she would mind putting her food away since there was still a mouse around. He asked in a very polite and reasonable manner, which was why I was surprised when Cynthia replied along the lines of "Ok, Tony, thanks," in the most sarcastic, mean, tone possible. As she headed out of the kitchen - without clearing up her leftovers - she gave us all the middle finger with her back turned to us. We all sat there, rather shocked but not overly surprised. We started chatting again, this time in very low whispers, and The Boyfriend got into bed.
Tony, Brad and I remained chatting in the kitchen and, a few minutes after she had left, Cynthia came back down and angrily asked us if we planned on being quiet or keeping it down or something along those lines. We all protested that we were being very quiet, barely speaking above a whisper, and Tony pointed out that when The Boyfriend had lived in that room, he (and I) could hardly hear anything going on in the kitchen, no matter how loud. Cynthia insisted that she could hear us "screaming like 12 year olds" which was strange, since no one had been screaming. Tony then said that we had seen her light on when we came home so we knew she had been awake. She insisted that she and her boyfriend had fallen deeply asleep with it on. I then said, flippantly, that it was a good thing she woke up again so that she could turn the light off. Again, still a bit drunk. I don't remember if there was another exchange or not, but then Cynthia said to me, "I don't even know why you're here, bitch," or something to that effect. She definitely called me a bitch. I then said as calmly as I could that everyone who lived there had told us - me and The Boyfriend - that it was ok for us to be there to which she replied "Yeah, only if you were quiet." At this point, I insisted that we were being perfectly quiet and she might have told me to get out of her house. I noted then that I had been friends with her other two house mates long before she moved in, to which she replied, "Yeah, well I live here now," as if she had say over every interaction in the apartment. I was rather shaken up. Afterward, she stormed up the stairs, slamming both sets of doors behind her. I should note that during this entire exchange, Brad, Tony and I were gathered around the butcher block table, with Tony and I sitting next to each other on the bar stools and Brad standing on my left. Cynthia was standing on the other side of the table. I remained seated the whole time.
Once Cynthia had gone upstairs, Brad, Tony and I got ready for and into bed (The Boyfriend and I were sleeping on the futon in the living room). The Boyfriend was still awake so we discussed what had just happened before falling silent and attempting to fall asleep. After about 15 minutes or so, I heard voiced downstairs, then the front door opening. I though it must be the landlords, who live in the first floor apartment, coming back from some late night adventure - that thought made me smile - but then the door buzzer went off several times rather urgently. I heard Cynthia get up and rapidly run down both flights of stairs to open the door. I thought that perhaps she had hypocritically invited some of her own friends over at this odd hour, but as soon as I heard her say "They're upstairs," I knew she had called the cops.
There were four of them and they went down the hall to Tony's room first. Tony then came out and called our names and turned on the light. The four policemen stood in the doorway of the living room looking at us (I think, I didn't have my contacts in) and told us we had to leave. I asked what was going on but they only repeated that we had to leave. I asked permission to put pants on since we were both dressed for sleep. Tony handed us our clothes and we quickly dressed. We gathered with the policemen to try and figure out what was happening. They still only told us that we had to leave. Cynthia was standing behind the group of men. I stated that I had in writing permission from each of the housemates to stay, to which Cynthia said, "Not if you threaten me." The Boyfriend immediately fired back, "You're the one who called *her* a bitch!" so I tried to calm him down instead of attempting to explain that I had never in any way threatened her. The police allowed us to put our contacts in and gather our stuff, and at around 1:30am, we drove home.
***
Needless to say, I was rather shocked over the whole encounter, but, knowing Cynthia as I do, was not shocked. I'm pretty sure she actually convinced herself that I had threatened her in some way. So, The Boyfriend and I managed to laugh about it on our long, tired, drive home at 1:30 in the morning.
Saturday, however, we were not laughing too much. Cynthia had decided to post about the entire false event on her Facebook, eliciting sympathy for her and rather mean-spirited comments for both me and Tony. Not only that, but she went as far as saying that I was "angling for a fight" and "belligerently drunk," neither of which, of course, were true. So now, Tony is talking to his landlords and trying to get the whole thing figured out. I am very hurt and offended and tired out by this whole thing. It's hard to have someone say totally false things about you then have people you don't even know say terrible things about you. I know none of it true, and that my real friends know that too, but still, it's mentally taxing. I just hope the truth comes out once and for all soon.
But still, good story, right?? ;)
ciao
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Results
Got the letter today. A small envelope. Everyone knows what that means, even without opening it.
Oh well.
I still have the Tufts interview, but now instead of just doing well I have to smack it out of the park.
I don't really feel up to that right now. Good thing the interview is in March.
ciao
Oh well.
I still have the Tufts interview, but now instead of just doing well I have to smack it out of the park.
I don't really feel up to that right now. Good thing the interview is in March.
ciao
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