End of an Era

There comes a point in every professor's life and career when they get fed up with repeating the same material to students every new semester and finally throw in the towel and retire. My favorite professor has reached that point and will turn in the keys to her office at the end of the summer semester. Several of my classmates and I have been trying to convince her to hang around for just one more year and spread some more knowledge our way. Sadly we started our campaign to get her to stay shortly after she turned in her paperwork. Good job us.

You're probably wondering what makes her my favorite professor. Well, it's a number of things really, but mostly it's because she likes us and is willing to joke around with us. That, and she's just so darn cute when she giggles about the less than scandalous material in the 19th Century literature we've been reading (less than scandalous by today's standards that is). Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just so cute when she talks about "flaming passion" and thinks we need an explanation. It helps a lot that she loves my class. She said we were among her favorites in her 30 years of teaching. Go us.

So anyway, Dr. B- is retiring and we've been getting our fair share of the things she would like to do before she retires. Among those things:

1. giving away her office furniture to various students
2. passing on her two favorite jokes to the class lover of jokes (who just happens to be me, gosh, you tell one pirate joke...)
3. calling her class (pardon the phrases, it's a direct quote) "sons of bitches" at some point in time.

She has given away much of the office furniture, and has actually used "the phrase" in addressing the class; prompted by yours truly. So staple your pants to the chair, children, because I must relate this story.

It was last Wednesday that she first revealed that she wanted to say "the phrase" to her class because an old retired professor from FSU had once said that to her class; she was also giving away the chair that she had gotten from that professor of legendary status. She discussed with us how she would use it, and we decided that it should be in a quick reprimand for the next tardy person through the door. Well, someone was tardy, but she couldn't get it out. Class progressed uneventfully. We were all disappointed at not getting to hear "the phrase" put into use, but we knew our day would come. Friday's class rolled around and I was running a bit late, maybe a minute or two. When I walked in, Dr. B- was answering someone's question and did not have the chance to say anything about my tardiness. I stood next to my desk and waited for her to finish answering the question then said graciously, "Dr. B-, I was late. Don't you have anything to say to me?" Then Dr. B- said, "Why you [the phrase] need to be on time to my class!" She smiled broadly and laughed as her last few words were lost in the laughter from my classmates behind me. Several people theorized that I had waited outside until I was late in order to obtain the desired effect, but no, I was actually late and had only thought of saying something as I walked through the door. Dr. B- made sure there was no offense taken by the comment and I of course said there was and that I would be taking a rather lengthy swim out into the ocean after class if anyone wanted to join me (the mode of suicide chosen by Edna Pontillier, the main character from Kate Chopin's The Awakening).

The whole episode was great fun and it makes me all the more sad that she is retiring after the summer semester. So here's to you, Dr. B-. We'll always love you and your quirky sense of humor.

I Think I Can, I Think I Can...

Well, a week and a half left of school, then finals week then FREEDOM!!!!! Before freedom: 1.5 weeks of studying, writing, reading, more writing, more reading, more writing, and some table building. If you don't see me, I'll be in my room typing furiously while getting my Vitamin D from artificial sun lamps. Due Monday: Anthropology paper. Due Wednesday: Women in Lit paper. Also Due Wednesday: Acting 1 paper. Women in Lit can be postponed, I just have to do a little more work, but I would really like to go into finals week with nothing to do but study for my one and only test on Friday. All that free time could be used to hunt down whoever schedules final exams and beating them down for scheduling my only exam on the last day of finals!!! AGGGGGHHHHH!!! Second semester in a row! Anyway, I'm done with my little hissy fit now.

Anyway, today was quite a bit stressful and had nothing to do with the mountain of homework facing me in the next week. I began my day with the knowledge that it was going to be hectic. You see, aside from being my long day anyway, Wednesdays are my day to cook, and furthermore, we were having guests for dinner. Not for dinner, but well you get the point, and isn't that an over worn joke? So instead of the regular 17 people that I have to make dinner for, it was upped to 21. Hurrah. The extra five people meant an extra bag of chicken that had to be cut up when two would have been more than sufficient. I made Chicken Linguini in a garlic basil (and whatever other spices I felt like throwing in there) sauce. Thankfully, we got a garlic press, so the past misfortunes with garlic chopping were not repeated. I did however, have to chop some onions, and let me tell you, the tears were flowing. Anyway, dinner was a relative success and would have occurred on time had it not been for us forgetting to put the garlic bread in the oven until 6 o'clock. Astonishing isn't it, me of all people forgetting to do something.

I had planned to go see Romeo and Juliet tonight at the Fallon Theatre, but I was so tired after dinner that I didn't want to fall asleep during the show, cause that's rude, and I have some sense of theatre etiquette...unlike some of my roommates, but that's a different story for a different time.

So I spent my evening doing homework instead. I didn't get to watch Lost or Alias, which saddened me deeply, but I did get some work done, so it's okay I guess. I'll watch them over the summer. Or maybe I won't cause I'll be in Barbados. I worked on homework and reading the my Barbados information notebook (which I should have done AGES ago) until around 12:20 (and played some guitar too) at which point I realized that it's Wednesday, which is bathroom cleaning day, which means I forgot to check bathrooms at 10 o'clock. So I'm fining myself for not doing my work job. Yippie.

But surprisingly enough, the day wasn't that bad. There have definitely been worse days as well as better days, but you have to roll with the punches, and I think I rolled pretty well all considering. Anyway, back to work, or sleep, whichever comes first.

If you need me, I will be unreachable for a while, I'll have dropped off the face of the planet.

[And if you're wondering why I didn't post for a while, it's cause I was working on something else.]

Tornado Green Skies and a Walk Home in the Rain

This afternoon several of my roommates and I sat on the living room couches watching random television programs about various things. Suddenly someone looked out the window, noticing that the sky no longer wore the dismal shade of gray it had all day, but a rather ominous shade of green. Tornado green. One would think that collectively we would have enough sense to stay indoors where the threat of being blown away in a Wizard of Oz-like tornado and inevitably smashing a wicked witch of the east with our house did not exist. Alas, we were not so fortunate and adjourned to the patio to watch the green sky move above our heads, the wind visibly move towards us and the numerous students scurry for cover from the wind and rain. You are no doubt expecting something bad to happen. Sadly, the story of life is not nearly as interesting as Techni-color movies, and no one was swept over the rainbow by a fierce tornado. The conversation reached its high point when it turned to the unshaven status of my legs and everyone else's (hey, Spring Break is long over, and shaving is pointless when you only ever wear jeans anyway) and the monster bruise I got on my knee from Aerobic Conditioning ("gym" as I like to call it). Okay, so the bruise really isn't that big, but haven't I warned you that I'm prone to exaggeration? As you read this, you're probably hoping that I don't tell you the story of the bruise. Don't worry, I won't. It's not that interesting.

After dinner I went to go see Metamorphosis at the Lab Theatre. It was amazingly good, go see it. It ended around nine o'clock, and not wanting to get stuck in the post show rush for the door, I left quickly. I bounced down the stairs (I'm bouncy, what can I say?) and quickly realized that it was beginning to rain, or perhaps just finishing. Oh well, I thought, I've been wet before, and a little water never hurt anyone, except for that kid I saw on Oprah who was allergic to water. I had, in fact, been wet in the same rainwater fashion less then a week before after an ill timed stroll to M.'s apartment in a mild deluge bearing poker chips; by the time I arrived at M.'s, I looked like something out of a bad romance movie of the Lifetime style, but man, I felt romantic. My train of thought continued: It's not raining too hard, I should be home before the heavy stuff gets here. Having lived in Florida for quite some time I am familiar with the rain patterns of the area, however on this occasion, I forgot my years of training and was promptly soaked with the torrential downpour which inevitably follows the "I'll be home before it really starts raining" thought. Since I was only at the corner of Pensacola and Copeland (or in non-FSU terms, a long way from home) by the time my underwear was starting to dampen [from the rain], I decided that the best way to finish my walk home would be by taking my time and enjoying the lights shining on the wet pavement; so that's what I did. My super high quality Target flip-flops quit being effective in the traction department somewhere around the faculty parking lot across from the Williams building. I took them off, not wanting to suffer a dangerous, and no doubt funny, slip as I walked. As I rambled on, I would occasionally see a fellow student caught in the rain hurrying along the sidewalk, trying to get their belongings under the tiny umbrellas which most people carry in their backpacks. You know the type: cute, fun colored, resilient to most weather that doesn't involve anything worse than a light breeze or sprinkle. It was a truly pleasant walk. I arrived at my house, still thinking of Gene Kelly dancing in a deep puddle, to the sound of C.'s voice saying, "Oh Laura, you're wet!" The silent dialogue in my head replied, "Why, yes, I am. How could you tell? Was it the water dripping from every follicle of hair on my body, or the rain drops on my glasses, or the water soaked bottoms of my pants, or perhaps the shivering figure standing on the doorstep?"

That was basically the end of my evening. It was a good evening, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. To top it off, I also found out that my favorite TA is back in town and may very well be teaching my European Theatre History class next semester. Yay!! On a different note, I was hoping to return to my light-hearted self this post...have I succeeded?