I’d strike. If you’ve still got the e-mail, I’d print it out and hand it in with the work you did do, making it clear you did the assignment as assigned, then refuse to do the other part.
Then I’d fail the class, probably. 
She’s completely clueless. I attempted to point out that her directions were incredibly misleading, but to no avail. Plus, the rest of the class took one look at it and decided there was no way in Hell they were doing it, so there’s no one to back me up.
It’s called “spring cleaning” and we’re trying to sweep it out the door*, so, no, we don’t want it back.
*Not that it’s actually working, here (-4º C with a freezing north wind). Maybe I need to sweep harder.
Hah! It’s a major sign of spring here that the snow has melted back enough that there’s finally some grass visible on the sunny side of the driveway.[/grump]
Let’s see now… rosie, I have no idea where I know it from, but the poem I know is:
Spring has sprung
The grass has riz,
I wonder where the flowers is.
Spring has sprung,
Fall has fell,
Winter’s here,
and it’s cold…er than usual.
This version seems oddly appropriate today as we’re supposed to get 3-5 inches of snow tomorrow.
smitty, that poo story is priceless. Just think what you’ll be able to do with it when they’re older. Ahh…the embarrassment potential for the teen years is practically limitless with this one!
So Drae, how’s that job hunting (jobhunting?) going?
Puggy, add me to the list of I-was-never-an-eights. Unless it was in fifth or sixth grade before I finished growing. I think you should be proud.
I’m sure I’m missing more important stuff, but I’m tired (again) cuz it was kind of a long day (speaking engagement ate up lots of energy). So, yay for all the good things, boo for all the bad things and I’ll catch up more later.
GT
Okay, so for the record I am back at RPI. I still need to unpack. Meh. I’ll get to it. Other things on the agenda for tonight include modifying my Quest MMP from months ago to submit to a writing contest, and also preparing anything else I can find to submit, and also not panicking.
See? This is me not panicking. :: doesn’t panic ::
In other news, some of you may remember that I was up until 5 am one night a couple of weeks ago finishing a philosophy paper. I got an A on it. 
It occurred to me that given significant exposition of the physics experiments to which I refer, and given significant expansion and clarification of the arguments I use, I could turn it into a book. So I’m definitely going to hang onto the paper for a while.
I baked brownies. They were nasty. I should have used real butter instead of soft margerine. What a waste of perfectly good cocoa. ick. 
I spoiled you, huh? 
Nasty brownies?!? Say it ain’t so!
I’m off to the ball park in a bit. Which means I’m leaving work about an hour early.[sub]yay[/sub]
ummmm, I can’t remember - maybe you should jog my memory???
Yeah, scout, they really were vile. So sad…
it’s SNOWING. :eek:
I think I’m going to sneak out tonight and get something to drink. I bought myself a six-pack of caffeine free diet pepsi last night and hid it. Only told one sister because she asked for one and told her that they were MINE. I get home tonight and they were ALL GONE. I asked if anyone knew what happened to it and everyone was all, “oh, it was good! thanks!” I guess I shouldn’t be so greedy.
What did the counselor want? to know if I’m on drugs/posessed/anorexic/seriously ill. Apparently “some” of my friends went to her and said they were worried because I’ve lost some weight, I’m sick a lot, I haven’t “been [my]self lately” etc. and I scared them. I told her I’m fine- she can call my mom and confirm that I’m not sick, she can drug test me if she wants because I’m not on drugs… she didn’t exactly believe me and told me to ask my mom to take me to a therapist. :rolleyes: been there, done that, don’t really have time for it anymore unless there’s a therapist who’s open at 10:30 PM. I’m not saying a word about it to my mom. don’t want to go to any more therapists.
Wow. I sound really awful and rebellious tonight. I’m normally not a bad kid, I promise! And I’m not really going to sneak out either. I’m just pissy about everyone taking my soda.
I had baked tilapia fish last night. It was good. I did it myself. I used some bell peppers, onions, lemon pepper and some Eyetalian dressing as a marinade. The fish was all tender, flaky and yummmmmmm! We had steamed broccoli and carrots along with it. It was an amazingly healthy meal. Tonight is veggie soup (made on Saturday) and cornbread. Matter of fact that may be the next two or three nights supper. We shall see.
Saturday is the big annual Bass Fishing Tournament. Yehaa! I get to go hang out at a lake in windy mid 60s weather all day. Plus I have to act like I like it cause it’s a fundraiser. :rolleyes: Oh, and today I get to be on a two hour conference call plus it promises to be stormy all day. Right now we’re under severe thunderstorm/tornado watches. Ahh Spring!
Anyone here willing to forward my resubscription fee for me? I don’t have the right kind of card, nor do I have Paypal…
Consider it done Bobbio. Course I will need to know which email addy and your password to do so. As soon as you are reupped you can change the password stuff, not that I’d sign in under your name or anything. Really. I wouldn’t. Trust me.
Last night was poke chops done on the grill pan and dirtballs a/k/a fart blossoms a/k/a Brussells Sprouts. Nothin’ fancy. No brownies…good or nasty.
Today is supposed to be in the high 80s so I’m thinkin Barbacue Chicken is a must.
Tomorrow is supposed to cool off some but not as cool as swampy’s bass tournament. Is this the same tournament with all the boats as last year? I heard on the radio this morning that a record bass had been caught in California. It weighed over 25 pounds. Isn’t that really a sturgeon??
dorothy, how much is “some” weight? Maybe you should talk to your Mom just to let her know what’s going on.
rifty, congrats on the A. Now we can all say we rub shoulders with a smart guy.
I don’t want to work today. I want to go to the beach. 
Tupug
When I was a senior in high school, my typical day went something like this: Wake up at 7:00, roll out of bed, go to the bus stop, school all day, followed by either a rehearsal or work. Home for ten minutes to stuff my face with something, back to school for another sort of rehearsal (I was in the marching band, the concert choir, the show choir, the jazz choir, and one of the directors of the drama club, which had nothing to do with the spring musical, which I was also involved in), home around 11 p.m., into the shower, dress in the clothes I planned to wear the next day, then to bed. That was when I didn’t have to do laundry or house cleaning or food shopping because my mother’d had something of a breakdown and was unable to get out of bed (I have since developed a lot more sympathy for that time in her life, but at the time, it really pissed me off). I lost weight and looked tired and got sick, too. Wasn’t on drugs, didn’t have time for a therapist. You’ll pull through. You seem like a smart kid–if you need help, you’ll get it.
And hey, you’ve got us to complain to, right? I recommend booby-trapping your Diet Pepsi.
Speaking of my mother, this morning I had a dream that she was in my bedroom (patently improbable, as she hasn’t even seen the bell tower yet), waking me up. I whined at her, and she said she thought I was going to be late, because she’d heard my alarm going off for 45 minutes. At this point, I explained quite patiently that I do that on purpose, and my alarm is actually set for 45 minutes before I have to get out of bed, for maximum snooze potential.
Then the damn alarm actually did go off and I had to get up. So I’m irrationally mad at my mother this morning, when I haven’t even seen her in three months.
Good morning, all!
Another crazy day begins here at work. Moving day will be next Tuesday. We have to have everything packed and labeled and ready to go by Monday night. Trying to focus on work is next to impossible. Everybody is gossiping! So many people are unhappy about the move, because it will add about 20 miles to their commute. Can’t say that I blame them.
Last night we had grilled hamburgers with swiss cheese and sauteed fungi. Good stuff, Maynard. I think maybe we’ll have poke chops tonight.
The dogs are getting along, and Lucy is behaving herself. No chewing or accidents in the house. But if you don’t watch her, she’ll eat Blaze’s food. He’s learning that fact, and doesn’t leave anything in his bowl anymore.
Well, I better get to looking like I’m working! Heh.
Puggy according to the B.A.S.S. Club, which sponsors this here fishing tournament, we should expect around 200 boats, which means 400 participants at $150 a head. Plus, believe this or not, we have people who come just to hang out. 
These people buy bbq sammiches and stuff. Weird. Oh and there will be beer. We can’t sell it, so there’s a “donation” can set up. It is widely understood that the minimal donation should be at least $3.00. To make it more fair, we also set up a “donation” can for soft drinks. It is widely understood that the minimal donation there should be at least $1.00. Oh, and the bbq team also sells <snerk> smoked butts <snerk> for $5.00 a <snerk> butt <snerk>. The fisherpersons get tickets for two free beers and two sammiches each. It is widely understood that they also get all the chips, soft drinks and water they want for free. Heck, I’ll give 'em all the beer they want for free as long as it lasts. I’m nice like that. I figure a $150 entry fee is worth a few free beers.
Good morning everyone, and Happy Tuesday. Tupug - And Dorothy, where are you that it’s snowing? And can you send some this way? I looove snow.
BAM! Salami out of nowhere! Hee! Today, I have to submit a few things to a writing contest, deposit a couple of checks in my bank account, and call the phone/telecommunications people. Why? I’m glad you asked. A while ago, the end of the week before last, I received an email notification that I had two messages in my RPI phone number voicemail box. Naturally, I thought that perhaps these were from grad schools. So I tried to access them, and discovered that I didn’t remember the new PIN that I had set. Okay, fine.
I went online to where you can input your ID and password and get your box # and password, only to discover it’s erroring. So I called them, only to find out that because of recent upgrades, they’re locked out of their own fucking system and they can’t help me change my PIN to get in. It’s now a week later. They’re still locked out as of yesterday, they told me to call again today. sigh
You know how I know it’s spring? I was invited to a baby shower last weekend and have a wedding to go to this weekend. This is getting expensive.
On the upside, I had to buy some shoes for the wedding. No, really! I have a dress, but the shoes I bought to go with it were the most incredibly painful things I’ve ever worn. Sheer torture. So I threw them out. I know, I should have donated them, but I just couldn’t inflict them on anyone else.
On the downside, they’re not registered anywhere. Does this mean I have to write them a check? I don’t really have a lot of money to throw around; I just started working again, and things are still tight.
And on a different subject altogether, hoo, boy, do I know a thing or two about sisters “borrowing” things, SurrenderDorothy! I have four, and had to share everything growing up. They liked to take things before I was up, so they could be out of the house when I discovered the theft. I live on the other side of the country now, but I will be home for a visit and will wake up to find they’ve been through my suitcase like the Vikings through a small coastal village.
You and welbywife simply must go bowling. You can trade excuses to buy shoes! Some of her great ones include yours, the “painful shoes”, the old “but the colors don’t match perfectly”, I can’t wear those old things*", and my personal favorite - “But without new shoes the purse won’t work!”
- old adj. old·er, old·est
- Having lived or existed for a relatively long time; far advanced in years or life.
- Relatively advanced in age: *Pamela is our oldest child. *
- Any shoe that has been in a closet for more than two days: I can’t wear those old things.