College story

When I was in high school, some of our teachers told us how hard college would be. They said that if a professor didn't like our term paper, he might tear it up in front of us.

I had no reason to doubt this. And of course, it scared me. I wanted to keep being babied at school, like always.

During my sophomore year of college, I took an English course on poetry. I was not a poetry fan by any means, but it was a required course for the English major. I had to pick one of the poems we'd studied and write a seven-page paper on it. I had some trouble figuring out what to write. In the end, I decided to write about Coleridge's use of weather in "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" (low-level weather junkie that I was.)

Days later, I sat on my bed with the Norton Anthology open to the Rime, and I tried to write this paper. Problem was, my theme seemed very flimsy, and I really didn't think I could fill up seven pages talking about it. The poem itself was not even that long.

But I pushed myself to write. And write. I felt like I was forcing each word. I quoted looooong passages from the poem (double spaced, of course). I also made sure I used as large a font as I could get away with.

I thought to myself, "This is the worst paper I've ever written. I barely believe my own thesis statement. I'll either fail, or I'll get an A and have a great story."

Anyway, the day came to hand in the paper. I went up to the professor's desk and handed it in with the others.

But I saw a chance to do something to help myself. Someone else was handing in a paper, and her title page said:


And get this -- she had actually taken a pen and drawn clouds all over her title page.

I couldn't believe it. Back in high school, my teeechurs were telling us that professors would tear up our papers if they weren't perfect, and here was a girl at an Ivy League school actually drawing clouds all over her English paper. (As an aside: A girl in another English class of mine one day brought a stuffed snail to class, for no reason at all. She just said, "I brought a snail today." Then we went on with the discussion on Virgil's The Aenid.)

So I made sure I slid my paper right UNDER the paper on clouds that had clouds drawn on it. (At least she didn't use construction paper or oaktag for her cover.)

A week later, I got the paper back, and I had gotten an A-minus. Of course, maybe it actually was a good paper. I dunno. Maybe I was graded on a curve.



"I don't think I would want to keep up with the Kardashians."

- Hubby, 03/29/08


People can be soooooo disappointing

I just looked around at some blogs, and there were few updates. How boring. So it's my responsibility to fill in the gap.

Let's see. What can I think of to tell you about?

Many years ago, I worked in a fast food restaurant. I didn't really have too many people to talk to. This one time, they hired a new boy who was a year younger than me. My thoughts were the same as any other young dateless girl stuck in a fast food uniform: "Yay! New boy."

Soon enough, he came over to me and held up a hamburger bun, which he had squeezed all around a French fry. "What do you think this is?" he asked.

"A metaphor for man's suffering," I said, displaying my boundless wisdom.

"It's an asshole taking a shit!" he said, then laughed to himself and went to go show it to someone else.

Ah, well.


Rule of life

Always save receipts. Even if it's for, like, fruit. You never know.

I got a bill yesterday for something I had paid for five months ago. Luckily, I saved all my receipts from last year rather than throwing them out right away. So I could prove I paid. (I paid in cash, so there was no credit card backup).

Just a little lesson. Or maybe the lesson is not to pay in cash...but if you do, get a receipt and save it!



I get these daily e-mailed digests for writers. Today, one of the writers on the chick-lit one contributed this:

I might have the best agent story. Way back, when I first started trying to write, and before the internet and email were well established, I had an agent who was.dead. Yep. He'd died the year before and I'd been represented by his secretary all that time. Argh!

Why does this not surprise me?


Monday will be a special day

50 percent off Easter candy!!


Combonym of the day

Squarrel - n. - An argument with a squirrel.

(I'm sure you'll get to use THAT one every day.)


Almost spring

Thursday is the first day of spring.

Just thought you should know!

Are we done with bad weather, or will we get any surprises?

Hard to tell. The weather reports this winter were not too accurate.


McGreevey and friends

Just when all eyes were on New York's disgraced governor, a former McGreevey aide brings the attention back to Joisey by claiming that he used to have threesomes with the guv and his ex-wife, in order to enhance their sexual relationship. These special Friday nights would start at, of course, T.G.I.Friday's. Then they added their own special dessert.

I am so proud to be one of the first few people blogging this. Now please let me go throw up.


The writin' life

There's this silly essay I worked on for a while about two years ago, then didn't do much with for a while. I vowed recently to just revise and finish the darn thing - it's only three pages long, but I just couldn't get it right. So I revised and revised. The Hubby was kind enough to read it too.

Anyway, I'm probably submitting it to a publication next week. However, I'm anticipating that this thing that took me a few years to finish could be rejected in just a few minutes.

C'est la vie!



The world has far too many reality stars who take up far too much space on the news.

Therefore, I do not want to read about or see any more of Spitzer's [alleged] ho. I don't want to see her singing on American Idol. I don't want newspaper articles on her. I don't want her to become a celebrity. By the way, if she admits to a crime, shouldn't she be going to jail instead of getting publicity? I don't care if she does or doesn't get arrested, but I just don't want any more newspaper space wasted on her. I'm all for entertainment news, but a day of her is all I can take.

Newspapers, please stop writing about her. Thank you.

Oh, I almost forgot - TGIF!

Update: No, I am not jealous of her!!



THANK YOU!!! Blog reader Snake Oil Sam e-mailed me to tell me to take the battery out of my phone, then take the chip out, then put them back in. I tried it, and it worked!! My phone is now operational again. I don't have to trek down to Radio Shack, consider buying stuff, or worry about re-inputting my numbers. Thank you so much, Snake Oil Sam! And to anyone else whose phone has the same symptoms, now you know how to take care of it.

Meanwhile, a friend wrote to me: "Remember how in the first season of 'Gilligan's Island' poor Mary-Ann wasn't even mentioned in the theme...reduced to an insulting and downgrading 'and the rest'? I think that's when the trouble began." Well, thanks for plagiarizing me! Just kidding. This person hadn't read the blog, obviously. Also obviously, half the people in their 30s thought of the same joke about Mary Ann. Sigh.

One final note. This past weekend, someone asked me how I got the idea for Carrie Pilby, since she's nothing like me. This caused my Hubby great laughter. Oh well.



We just got back from sunny Florida. It was lovely! Of course, it was warm down there (duh), but there were enough breezy periods where I had to wear a sweatshirt too.

There was time for a long walk on the beach (and I mean loooong...I think we almost ended up in Cuba), visiting cute babies-in-law, a dip in the pool, and a visit to a Mets spring training game in St. Lucie. They didn't do so well in the game we saw, but they won the next game they played.

Oh, and I got to walk around the Sawgrass Mills Mall, a very large outlet mall. The Hub was quite patient.

I want to show rather than tell, and I have some nice photos, but they probably won't go up for a week or two, due to busy-ness and technical stuff. So...the baseball diamond and the beach will be yours to ogle next week.

Speaking of technical stuff, my cell phone broke. Well, there's nothing on the display, although it lights up and turns on. So if you called me and left a message, I didn't get it. Please e-mail me or call me at home. (And if you didn't know I had a cell phone, well, I haven't given my number out that much, because of things like the fact that they break, but I should have the phone repaired or replaced by the end of the weekend.) I'm also just catching up on e-mail now, so I apologize if I didn't get back to you.

Brief news

Apparently, while we were away, some interesting news events occurred:

-Eliott Spitzer came out of the closet as a heterosexual!

-"Mary Ann" from Gilligan's Island was arrested for pot use. I bet she needed it, due to lingering resentment over being called "and the rest" at the end of the Gilligan theme in the older episodes. That always really bothered me, too. I'm glad they eventually changed it to "The Professor and...Mary Ann..."

-I feel like I need a third thing here for the list. But what can compare with a prosecutor-turned-governor paying $4,300 for a call girl...and Mary Ann lighting up a fattie? Was the bong made out of a coconut and some bamboo? Skipper! Professor! What are these strange plants by the lagoon?

Wow, I'm tired. At least I got through some of my e-mail, so that's good.


Combonym of the day

Youngry -- adj. Young and hungry. Example: "An agent should be youngry."



On Saturday, two things were being given out for free in NYC. Near Macy's, representatives for Tic-Tac gave us some new sour apple Tic-Tacs. They weren't so exciting to suck on, but I liked the tangy flavor once I bit mine.

On 42nd Street some people representing the Food Network were giving out free packets of dried crickets in salt and vinegar, as a snack. It was meant to publicize Andrew Zimmern's show where he eats weird food.

The Hubby and I unwittingly each took a pack, and then threw ours out at a nearby trash pail. The crickets probably would have just tasted like any other dry snack with salt and vinegar, but I wasn't into it. I did consider bringing it to work and leaving it on the table in the kitchen just to hear people's reactions, but I didn't want to carry the dried crickets around that long.

If you would have wanted them, sorry. Maybe next time you're in the big city, you can get equally lucky.