After six long hours of grading, I’m finally finished for the semester. If you are a teacher reading this, and you aren’t finished yet, you can do it. Don’t let the portfolios, essays, or exams beat you. I know you haven’t slept or showered in several days, and you wish you could start smoking again, and the laundry pile is making its way mockingly down the hallway towards you, but you got this. Stop organizing the junk drawer and delinting your winter sweaters. Your spice rack does not need alphabetized and the crud in the crack of the table ,that you are trying to remove with a toothpick, can remain another day. Just finish already.
Overall, I was happy with my students’ progress this semester. I did catch one plagiarizer, which is always upsetting. Well, that’s a half truth. I feel disappointed and victorious all at once. I am the smartest woman alive! Of course, she did go from sounding like an eleventh grader to a doctoral candidate, but still, I caught it! I caught you! Thought you’d get away with it, didn’t ya? Ya little punk.
So the grading is done, and now I just have to wait for the e-mails. It is usually a mix of appreciation for such a great semester and all my awesomeness, some last second pleading, and the occasional veiled threat. Professor Skop, I received my “final” grade. I know it’s what I earned and how to make your whole family disappear. I appreciate your gonna die honest feedback. See you in the fall, I promise. XOXO, Your Student. (For the record, I know that I used the wrong form of “your” above. It’s called artistic license.)
Columbus this weekend was such a great time. We filled almost every moment with something though, so I’ll just touch upon the highlights for posterity.
We spent some time on the OSU campus. Logan loved chasing the squirrels across the open lawns, pointing out different trees, and watching “the people go all the places.” He was happy that we were no longer on the freeway, which is, along with the turnpike, the bane of his existence. He informed me that ants like to eat dirt, and I couldn’t agree or disagree because I’m sure if this is true or not. Do ants actually eat dirt? While I doubt this, mostly, it’s one of those things that I’ve never actually looked up. I’ve seen ants carry around large crumbs and crash cartoon picnics, I know they go marching one by one, but beyond that, it’s a mystery to me.
I watched a tearful mother take a picture with her grown son on the steps of one of the buildings. He was crazy tall but had the face of a baby. I leaned over to Dan and said, “That could be us in fifteen years.” That used to sound like such a long time.
Skip ahead to Alisha’s bachelorette party… I’m really not a “bachelorette party” kind of girl. If you know me, I’m sure this comes as a great surprise as plastic penis straws totally sound like me. Luckily, there was only a little of that going on. We went to dinner at Sakura Japanese Steakhouse. I used chopsticks and ate sushi for the first time. I was successful with the chopsticks, and I think it’s because I hold my pencil incorrectly. This is just a theory. Unfortunately, the sushi tastes exactly the way I always thought sushi would taste. My sister insists that it was just bad sushi, but I’m skeptical.
Then we went to some bar in Easton. They were playing “If I Had a Million Dollars” when we passed by, so of course we had to go in. I liked the crowd because it wasn’t filled with teenie boppers in mid-riffs (Incidentally, mid-riffs are back in again. You can guess how I feel about this. Yes, jealously, that’s all it is.) So we are enjoying the exuberant off-key singing, when lo and behold, we see my brother Adam, the groom to be, with my sister’s husband Ryan. (For the record, this is the first time I’ve ever written lo and behold.)
At this point in my life, I really don’t enjoy bars for more than five minutes, so I was happy to make my way over to their table. I do not want to narrate the next twenty minutes and will just skip to the last few minutes before we left. I was checking my phone to see what time it was because we had to be at the show by 10:00. (Yes, this was a big night out for me. That’s 10 PM!) I was about to tell them that we had to get going, when I heard a voice in my ear.
“You don’t look like you are having a good time.”
I didn’t recognize the voice, and my first instinct was to go on the defense. What is that about?
“Oh, I am. I just need to check the time. We need to be somewhere.”
“Well in my experience, if a girl’s on her phone, then she’s not having fun.”
I turned and looked him then. I swear he couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, good looking, not at all smarmy, and obviously trying to spark up a conversation with me. I wanted to laugh, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I just smiled and turned back to my group. I could hear his friend say, “I think that was the wrong approach.” I wanted to take a picture of him to include in the blog, but I thought that might have sent the wrong message. One of Alisha’s friends said, “I think he was hitting on you!” I tried to ignore the incredulity in her voice. When I told Dan about it, he said “no more going to bars.” Hahaha, I find it both sad and amusing that this incident is worth blogging about. I guess that’s what happens when you are thirty-four.
Stay tuned for Columbus Weekend part 2: Alisha and the hypnotist…
Overall, I was happy with my students’ progress this semester. I did catch one plagiarizer, which is always upsetting. Well, that’s a half truth. I feel disappointed and victorious all at once. I am the smartest woman alive! Of course, she did go from sounding like an eleventh grader to a doctoral candidate, but still, I caught it! I caught you! Thought you’d get away with it, didn’t ya? Ya little punk.
So the grading is done, and now I just have to wait for the e-mails. It is usually a mix of appreciation for such a great semester and all my awesomeness, some last second pleading, and the occasional veiled threat. Professor Skop, I received my “final” grade. I know it’s what I earned and how to make your whole family disappear. I appreciate your gonna die honest feedback. See you in the fall, I promise. XOXO, Your Student. (For the record, I know that I used the wrong form of “your” above. It’s called artistic license.)
Columbus this weekend was such a great time. We filled almost every moment with something though, so I’ll just touch upon the highlights for posterity.
We spent some time on the OSU campus. Logan loved chasing the squirrels across the open lawns, pointing out different trees, and watching “the people go all the places.” He was happy that we were no longer on the freeway, which is, along with the turnpike, the bane of his existence. He informed me that ants like to eat dirt, and I couldn’t agree or disagree because I’m sure if this is true or not. Do ants actually eat dirt? While I doubt this, mostly, it’s one of those things that I’ve never actually looked up. I’ve seen ants carry around large crumbs and crash cartoon picnics, I know they go marching one by one, but beyond that, it’s a mystery to me.
I watched a tearful mother take a picture with her grown son on the steps of one of the buildings. He was crazy tall but had the face of a baby. I leaned over to Dan and said, “That could be us in fifteen years.” That used to sound like such a long time.
Skip ahead to Alisha’s bachelorette party… I’m really not a “bachelorette party” kind of girl. If you know me, I’m sure this comes as a great surprise as plastic penis straws totally sound like me. Luckily, there was only a little of that going on. We went to dinner at Sakura Japanese Steakhouse. I used chopsticks and ate sushi for the first time. I was successful with the chopsticks, and I think it’s because I hold my pencil incorrectly. This is just a theory. Unfortunately, the sushi tastes exactly the way I always thought sushi would taste. My sister insists that it was just bad sushi, but I’m skeptical.
Then we went to some bar in Easton. They were playing “If I Had a Million Dollars” when we passed by, so of course we had to go in. I liked the crowd because it wasn’t filled with teenie boppers in mid-riffs (Incidentally, mid-riffs are back in again. You can guess how I feel about this. Yes, jealously, that’s all it is.) So we are enjoying the exuberant off-key singing, when lo and behold, we see my brother Adam, the groom to be, with my sister’s husband Ryan. (For the record, this is the first time I’ve ever written lo and behold.)
At this point in my life, I really don’t enjoy bars for more than five minutes, so I was happy to make my way over to their table. I do not want to narrate the next twenty minutes and will just skip to the last few minutes before we left. I was checking my phone to see what time it was because we had to be at the show by 10:00. (Yes, this was a big night out for me. That’s 10 PM!) I was about to tell them that we had to get going, when I heard a voice in my ear.
“You don’t look like you are having a good time.”
I didn’t recognize the voice, and my first instinct was to go on the defense. What is that about?
“Oh, I am. I just need to check the time. We need to be somewhere.”
“Well in my experience, if a girl’s on her phone, then she’s not having fun.”
I turned and looked him then. I swear he couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, good looking, not at all smarmy, and obviously trying to spark up a conversation with me. I wanted to laugh, but didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I just smiled and turned back to my group. I could hear his friend say, “I think that was the wrong approach.” I wanted to take a picture of him to include in the blog, but I thought that might have sent the wrong message. One of Alisha’s friends said, “I think he was hitting on you!” I tried to ignore the incredulity in her voice. When I told Dan about it, he said “no more going to bars.” Hahaha, I find it both sad and amusing that this incident is worth blogging about. I guess that’s what happens when you are thirty-four.
Stay tuned for Columbus Weekend part 2: Alisha and the hypnotist…