Two Bits

first bit:

every now and then i have moments in my job that just leave me without words. in a good way. right now is one of those moments. i just read a paper from one of my students -- a literary analysis on how poe establishes mood in "the fall of the house of usher" -- and it was so good, so insightful, so un-frickin'-believably off-the-hook eloquent that i had to put the rest of the pile down for the night. it simply would not be fair to grade another kid's paper with that one fresh in my brain.

*sigh*

i really do love the little triumphs of my job.


* * * * * * * * * * * *


second bit:

on a completely unrelated note, i bought a carbon-monoxide detector for my apartment. my place is really nice, but only because of work that i've put into it. the building on the whole is pretty shabby and the furnace is less than state-of-the-art. now that cold weather is here and i have to turn on said furnace or freeze my tuchus off, a co detector seemed a prudent way to increase my chances of reaching my twenty-fifth birthday.

like most electronics, my new safety device was sealed in plastic packaging designed to resist all reasonable attempts at opening it. you literally have to lapse into momentary insanity to get through this stuff.

long story short, i sliced my finger open. not off, but open to a point where the bleeding was significant and it'll take some time to heal.

i go to work the next day, and the whole school's a-buzz with the horrifying news that one of the students in our district has the infamous mrsa. we're forced to listen to lectures on proper hygiene and given stacks of pamphlets about how to avoid infection. every piece of paper i look at all day says that people who have been "immunocompromised" (that is, people like me who are recovering from mononucleosis) and people who have open wounds (such as recently sliced open fingers) are especially vulnerable and should take the following precautions: *insert list of seven million things to do, including staying home alone in a box. forever.*

if i get staph infection and die because i cut my finger opening the package of a device that is supposed to save my life, i am gonna be so pissed.

Busted

today, in an effort to entertain myself, i logged on to yahoo answers and starting buzzing around solving people's problems. this is a wonderful pastime for me, as i'm a bit of a wise ass and enjoy spreading my wit around.

well, this girl had a question that went something like "AHHHHHHHH! PLEASE HELP ME! MY COMPUTER KEEPS FREEZING!!!" the situation, in brief, is that her pc is as rank with viruses as that meatloaf your roommate has had in the refrigerator since last february. she can't even turn the damn thing off. it freezes completely and to "resolve" the problem, she unplugs it and reboots. she also reported that it made loud noises. yeesh! she's clearly on the edge of a breakdown and had nowhere to turn.

so i gave her the only bit of advice i knew would actually help her. i said (and i quote):


jeez, why torture yourself?
just get a mac.


i thought this response was brilliantly clever, undeniably true, and pretty funny to boot.



only a couple minutes later, i got an email saying that i had been reported for abuse, my answer had been removed, and i lost credibility points on my profile.

for saying she should get a mac?!



i can't figure out what i did that violates the yahoo terms of service or the answers community guidelines.

did i...
*vent, rant, or use hate speech?
*chat or otherwise violate the question-answer format?
*say something mean or obscene?
*exploit the community (via spam or such)?
*cheat (to give myself unearned points)?
*violate the law?
*behave maliciously?
*post things that are incomprehensible or in a different language? (by the by, this is a bit exclusionist of them, isn't it??)
*do harm??

i did not do any of these things.

i don't think slamming pc's counts as a racial slur, and that was a pretty gentle slam anyway. i didn't even post a picture of a naked woman licking a mac! (though it wouldn't be hard to get one, i'm sure.)


if she had logged on and said that orange juice gave her canker sores and i told her to try apple juice instead (because of the lower acidity, obviously), i'd have been commended for a very reasonable solution. she's having problems with a product so i suggested a superior product.


and some sniveling, beady-eyed, little microsoft lackey out there saw it and got pissed off and flagged my comment.

it was pretty mean of him to report me just because we have a difference of opinion. it was even a bit malicious. and it did me harm -- it lowered my credibility and raised my blood pressure (downright dangerous, given my delicate condition).



what a prick.

It Starts... Again.

i thought i'd get through at least one day of work without having stories to tell... then i walked back in that building.

if you've been enjoying my ramblings about summer vacation, then i must apologize. this is the last week of august and it's time for me to get back to the dry-erase board. i don't have any kids yet (which is why i thought i wouldn't have any stories) but i did get to spend a marvelous day in pd *translation: professional development, ie "six hour of my life i'm never getting back"* with all the teachers in the whole district.

just to give you a little background: teachers hate pd. especially the week before school. we all sit there thinking of all the billions of things we need to get done while whatever presenter drones on and on about things we already know. thankfully, as is always the case when you shut hundreds of human beings in a room and leave them there all day, a source of entertainment presented itself before long.

on monday, entertainment presented itself in the form of one of the middle school teachers. it's not unusual for teachers to bring a little something to help them get through the day -- a book, a notepad to doodle on, some knitting. (i didn't make up the knitting part. i told my colleague aaron that i aspire to live long enough that someday i'll be so old i can bring knitting with me when i go to meetings. i just said that to make him laugh -- i'd much rather die than knit in public.) well, this middle school guy took it to the next level.

did i mention that we all hate these meetings? we do. but this guy swaggered in (late), took an aisle seat alone about five rows in front of aaron and me, and proceded to put on quite a show. first, he took his sandals off. then he slouched down in his seat and propped his bare feet up on the arm of the chair in front of him so they hung out into the aisle. next he pulled out a book -- "a salty piece of land" by intellectual giant jimmy buffet. then he popped in his ear buds and flipped on his ipod. then, oblivious to all the disapproving glares, he pulled out his cell phone and started a text message conversation with some friend of his, apparently another diligent member of the workforce.

we've just had three months of paid vacation. we get two weeks for the winter holidays and at least one day off every month. so... i think this guy's a jackass and if i was his boss i'd tan his arrogant hide. but i'm not his boss, so i don't care.

however, the two crabby old ladies behind me cared. they cared a lot and erupted into shocked and indignent whispers.

"oh, sue! look at the guy! he's got his stinky bare feet all over that chair. who IS that? do you know who that is?!"

"no, i don't. i've never seen him before. is he a TEACHER?!"

"i don't know. who IS that?!?"

"look! he's got his cell phone out too! why i never!!"

"who IS that? ask jim if he knows who that is."

"jim doesn't know either. he must be from the middle school."

"well, honestly. look at his feet all over that chair! tell jim to go talk to him! that's disgusting."

"jim! tell him he has to clean his sweaty bare feet off that chair with a moist toilette or something." (i'm not making this up! she really said "moist toilette".)

at this point, jim, who is one of the high school administrators, walks down the aisle and stands about four steps behind the guy. then he turns around and comes back with a shrug.

jim: "i don't even KNOW that guy!"

"o honestly, if that was one of the kids, you'd read him the riot act."

now another lady who's a big gun at the high school goes down the aisle and actually does whisper something inaudible to the exemplar of professional decorum. he grunts at her and puts the cell phone back in his bag.

"well, didn't she tell him to sit up!! geez, he's still laying there like he's at the beach!"

"can you believe the gall?! who IS that?!"

"he must be new."

"doesn't anybody know who that is?!"

aaron turns around and interjects that the guy is listening to an ipod too. this news is met with gasps of horror and more whispers, as they didn't notice the ipod before. we determined that old people can't actually see ipods; such gadgets are outside of their realm of reality.

eventually, the middle school administrator comes down the aisle, apparently sent from the opposite side of the auditorium. he too leans down and interrupts margaritaville with a mumbled reprimand. another grunt, but this time the fellow actually does sit up and put his shoes on... a few minutes later he walks out of the room altogether.

all this transpired over the course of about an hour, during which the two old hens behind us never stopped talking about how offended they were that this young man was being so disrespectful to the presenter. incidently, they were talking so loudly and with so much prudish passion that aaron and i couldn't hear a damn thing the presenter was saying. hmm... irony makes my toes tingle with delight.

in all fairness, i wish i was still on the beach too.