No more teachers' dirty looks

"Um, like, where are the bathrooms?"
"Oh, you didn't know?"
"Um, know what?"
"We dig holes here at Simmons. In that grass over there."

I've always wanted to say that.



Okay okay, so I didn't.

This marks the first First Day of School in which I am not invited to participate as a student in twenty years. TWENTY YEARS, PEOPLE! I miss the new notebooks, the new eraser smell, the new shoes, the where-the-hell-will-I-sit anxiety, the endless stream of similar "how was your summer" conversations.

I haven't quite escaped those, however. I'm here at Simmons workin' away at the ol' job search, as the freelance well has run a bit dry of late. Oh, and I don't have a computer, remember? So all the new students run amok and I just sit here pluggin' away and hoping they don't get too close lest I feel threatened and start to bite.

Okay, as I was saying... those conversations have only been postponed until tomorrow night, when I am supposed to join the Children's Lit. Masters of the Future for drinks after their first Victorian Lit. class. I donwannago. I have to admit that I feel out of place among the younger set. They don't seem to like to do work, and they seem delighted to complain about the load, and they seem to think I'm some kind of saint for making it through already, mostly in tact. My job is to say, "don't worry, you'll get through it, you'll just get it done, you'll enjoy it, the professor is brilliant so try to appreciate her, et cetera." Except I don't SAY et cetera. (And by the way, I spell it out in hopes that people will read it and think, "Oh... et CETera... not ECKsetera. I'm so lame! I can't believe I was such a moron as to say it that way! Thank goodness JoBiv spelled it out and guided me back to the path of righteousness!")

Where was I? OH! As I was saying, I don't like being Ye Olde Sage of Children's Literature much. I miss the camaraderie of my old pals as we slugged through it together, slaving ever onwards toward our non-professional degrees...

Those were good times.

Here's my long overdue lash-out to the new class (whom I suppose I love anyway, somewhere in my blackened heart): YOU CANNOT REPLACE MY OLD FRIENDS, DAMMIT! There. That's better.


Speaking of old friends, I talked to K-Dawg last night. She got a job! Whoohoo, yay for K! And she was NOT watching the Sox vs. A's - Shocking! (It was a good game, Sox schooled 'em!) But she reminded me about a Very Important Book: Giraffes? Giraffes! by Dr. and Mr. Haggis-On-Whey. Look it up on www.haggis-on-whey.com. If I had any internet suavity, I'd make that a link. I don't, so deal with it. Anyway, brilliant book. Brilliant, I say. Look at it.


P.S. - I don't remember noticing that new dye jobs were a part of the Back to School flurry. Hmm.