So I got a call today from....let's call him Lil Jay. This is a guy who I've known since 1999 or so & we called him that to distinguish him from his then-boyfriend, Big Jay. We all had our own drug problems but these two were like one of the Supercouples of Drug-tainted Bad Relationships. (*see Jesus Junkies blog for more on this) Big Jay was a club-level coke dealer & Lil Jay was a cute, younger drug addict (I think 21 to Big Jay's 28ish) so you can imagine the kinds of fireworks this was. They both liked to do lots of drugs and racked up big bills with all the upper-level dealers on the scene. Same sad story all the time: they'd get a certain amount up front & then couldn't pay up later. "Something came up," as they say...They eventually got so tragic that they both had to leave town. I had a mad crush on Big Jay before Lil Jay got on the scene & somewhere along the line I had a cuddling/makeout session with Lil Jay (prior to the heights of tragedy they would later attain)...but I digress.
Anyway, periodically I have gotten calls from Lil Jay. He's here, he's there. He's drunk. He's in AA. He's drunk again. He joined the Navy at some point & got put out for drug use. He wants to hang out. He is living in some other state & recently got so drunk that his BAC was an 8.0. Yes the decimal point is in the right place. He's back in Lousiana and wants to hang out.
The last time I got a call from him (I think January or February 2011) he was back in Central Louisiana, living at his mom's place & working & sounding pretty good. He was talking about coming to NOLA for a visit because he really wanted to see me. He was periodically giving me updates about Big Jay (they were not dating as BJ was still in FL with his parents, and trying to get off a pain pill addiction he'd picked up and extricate himself from some recurrent legal problems--go figure) and I was very....apprehensive? ambivalent? Something along those lines about the whole idea of Lil Jay coming for a visit into my (relatively) well-ordered life. Well, it was just a weekend. It wouldn't interfere with my real-life. But I really wasn't 100% sure about what was going to happen so I just directly asked him if we were gonna have sex when he got here. He said, "well yeah! Why wouldn't I want to have sex with you?" (For future reference, this is NOT a good come-on in my book) So I was into it, mostly because he's actually quite hot & bc he's kinda one of the few that "got away" (thankfully so). And so the big day arrives & that morning he sends me some sexy text messages & tells me he'll be in town by 9ish.
And then he never shows up. No Call, No Text, No Show, No Nothing. Please keep in mind the last time he was supposed to come over was in 2006 & the next day he called from jail, needing to be bailed out from a DUI. So I just take it for granted that some other ignorant thing has happened to him & I don't flip about it. I actually was relieved more than anything else. I deleted him from my FB but not from my phone, just in case he tried to call again.
Well, today after work at the Medical School, I was waiting for the bus & Guess Who is just bored enough to answer this foolish child's call??? That's right, me, everyone's favorite Large Retarded Woman!!!
--Hello?
--Do you hate me?
--Lil Jay, I don't hate you. I'm disapointed that you flaked but I take for granted that as long as you are drinking you are not reliable.
--Sam, the reason why I couldn't come see you is that I felt like I would be cheating on Big Jay. He & I were talking about getting back together & I just didn't think it would be right to lead you on that way.
--Grrl so why are you calling me now?
--Well, Big Jay got in trouble for selling Oxycontin again & his mom won't bail him out of jail & he was supposed to come over here last month & he never showed up & he promised he was trying to clean up & I'm just so mad I could punch the wall.
--It really sucks when someone flakes out on you, doesn't it?
It was around this point that the bus came. Since I don't like talking on the bus I told him I'd call him back when I got home. When I called him from home the 1st thing I asked was "Have you been drinking?"
Surprise, the answer is YES.
--you prolly think I'm a bad person for doing this Sam
--No grrl I just think it's a shame that this is how you still keep dealing with things despite the fact that it is clearly not working.
I have to issue a disclaimer here--I realize that I am thriving off the drama of all of this & should have hung up the phone right here, but then I wouldn't have this story to tell!
So he starts telling me how mad he is at Big Jay for lying to him about getting off the pills and getting into trouble again and I asked him what he would tell me if I was trying to be friends some toxic person like my snaggle-puss tranny ex-roomie, Summer Teef, and he got all confused about what I was talking about, the way drunk hoes do. So after a few rounds of this (and a couple mentions of how he's about to go hang out with this cute 16 y.o. named Olly--who later turns out to be his cousin, but I'm sure that would be another story if I had the stomach for it) I finally just get down to brass tacks:
--So what is it that you want from me, Jay? Why are you calling after all this time when you have been drinking at 4 in the afternoon?
--I have to ask you something.
--........OK.
--This might seem like a fucked-up thing to ask.
--I'm sure it is, go ahead already.
--Well, if I decide to give things a try with you & come stay with you, can you support me until I can get a job in NOLA?
**I swear my jaw hit the floor at this point**
--No. I am not in a position to support anyone else in general and certainly not you in particular. But I don't understand why it is you think I want to give things a try with you. Beyond maybe a roll in the hay I don't really think you have a lot to offer. Even if I had just hit the Powerball & had infinite trillions at my disposal I wouldn't support you.
--Well, you were quick enough to take that money I was handing out after I ripped off Wells Fargo for like 20K in cash.
--Yea, and I also gave it back to you when you showed up at my house saying that your drugs were missing & you needed it back.
--Sam, why don't you think it would work out between us?
--Are you serious? It wouldn't work out between us because you are still fucked up. I can't trust you. That's it & that's all.
--You just don't get it Sam, drinking is the only way out that I have. I have to get out of my house right now, my mom's coming home & I'm drunk.
--I do not accept that ho. Drinking is the only way out that you're giving yourself. You are limiting yourself and this thing is killing you.
--What's the matter with me, Sam? Why can't I make it work with Big Jay??
--Grrl the problem now is the problem then: Both of you are fucked up & that's that. Neither one of you wants to grow up or change, no matter how much you suffer. But of all the things I have said to you today remember this: DO NOT CALL ME WHEN YOU ARE DRUNK. PERIOD. GOODBYE.
Clearly this is where I hung up & texted him the sentence in caps you just read. I got back an "I'm sorry" text.
Bitch Please. I was hanging out with my friend Matty Whips after the fact & this conversation just kept ringing in my ears. "Can you support me??" Indeed. I just do not know where some faggots get their nerve. "Why wouldn't I wanna have sex with you?" Well, honey, I can only come up with one reason to have sex with you, and that's just revenge. There are a whole ton more good reasons not to have sex with you that I don't even have the time to blog about.
At some point in our conversation he said something about being at a crossroads in his life. I was thinking more like tied to a railroad track with a big old engine with Jack Daniels written across it barrelling down on him like the Japanese Bullet trains that I see on the Hello Kitty websites.
But as I think of it, I'm at a crossroads myself. And I thank God, the Universe, Allah & any & all potential deities I may have overlooked that I'm not where he is.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
May 3, 2011: 24 years later....
Graduation is just around the corner. I'm not sure what's happening next as far as employment goes but right now, on the 24th anniversary of the death of international gay icon, Dalida, I am beginning my work on her.
Some of you who know me from FB will remember a feature I did a while back called "Dalida of the Day" in which I would post a youtube video of a song of hers, along with some fun facts. The work I will be doing is going to go deeper than that. I will begin writing a memoir about Dalida & what she means to me, and why. I will have to look at just how having those few Dalida CDs I brought with me on when I evacuated NOLA for Hurricane Katrina saved my life. She is timeless to me. The more I listen to her, the better I understand not only the language in which she is singing (usually French, but she sang in 9 others) but also myself. The more I learn of her biography, the more I learn of myself. I hope I am able to make all this make sense. Most of the French or French-speaking people I know think of her as "dépassée" or outmoded, something from yesteryear. But for me, thanks in large part to the Internet, she is brand-new, eternal, incandescent in her candor. She speaks with candor about herself in interviews, she is amazingly honest with the public in a way I will have to be with myself if this is going to work properly. There are still plenty fans worldwide, and I hope I can also interview at least a few of them along the way as well, in order to give me more insight into this phenomenal artiste.
Clearly, my Gemini mind won't let me just work on one thing at a time, so I have already begun to translate David Lelait-Helo's beautifully written "Dalida--D'une rive à l'autre" with the hopes of being able to submit it to a publisher someday. It is a bit of a big task for a first time, but it's like I said when I put on those Wonder Woman bracelets right before I went in front of the cameras on The Weakest Link: No Guts, No Glory.
One year from today, barring illness or natural disasters, I will be at the Montmartre Cemetery to commmemorate that terrible night and pay hommage to the woman who saved my life even though she couldn't save her own.
Some of you who know me from FB will remember a feature I did a while back called "Dalida of the Day" in which I would post a youtube video of a song of hers, along with some fun facts. The work I will be doing is going to go deeper than that. I will begin writing a memoir about Dalida & what she means to me, and why. I will have to look at just how having those few Dalida CDs I brought with me on when I evacuated NOLA for Hurricane Katrina saved my life. She is timeless to me. The more I listen to her, the better I understand not only the language in which she is singing (usually French, but she sang in 9 others) but also myself. The more I learn of her biography, the more I learn of myself. I hope I am able to make all this make sense. Most of the French or French-speaking people I know think of her as "dépassée" or outmoded, something from yesteryear. But for me, thanks in large part to the Internet, she is brand-new, eternal, incandescent in her candor. She speaks with candor about herself in interviews, she is amazingly honest with the public in a way I will have to be with myself if this is going to work properly. There are still plenty fans worldwide, and I hope I can also interview at least a few of them along the way as well, in order to give me more insight into this phenomenal artiste.
Clearly, my Gemini mind won't let me just work on one thing at a time, so I have already begun to translate David Lelait-Helo's beautifully written "Dalida--D'une rive à l'autre" with the hopes of being able to submit it to a publisher someday. It is a bit of a big task for a first time, but it's like I said when I put on those Wonder Woman bracelets right before I went in front of the cameras on The Weakest Link: No Guts, No Glory.
One year from today, barring illness or natural disasters, I will be at the Montmartre Cemetery to commmemorate that terrible night and pay hommage to the woman who saved my life even though she couldn't save her own.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Give me strength.
Since I got back from taking the written part of my comprehensive exams I have been madly doing tons of laundry (including the drapes) because of all of the CO2 residue all over my apt. It is after midnight & I still have 2 loads of clothes to go & I have been ironing these damn curtains for like an hour. I take a little break to blog & then I check my Faculty email. I hope you are sitting down (in the days of the iPad, you never know...)
Here is the subject line:
"concerning my absentance on jueves el ocho del abril del dos mil y diez y uno.(april 8 2011)"
Followed by:
Here is the subject line:
"concerning my absentance on jueves el ocho del abril del dos mil y diez y uno.(april 8 2011)"
Followed by:
haha i totally don't know the how to say :concerning my absentance (YES! TWICE!!) on , in spainsh (I think this means Spanish). well, my major is fine arts (as opposed to, say, Spelling??) and friday (Capital F) we had a field trip in the french quater (French Quarter, I think). I have a note for you , but its says till 1:30 but by the time i got to school i missed your class. I have a hard copy too but this is what the note said:
Followed by some note I won't bore you with here.
So thats the note.. I understand if you do not accept it being that i forgot to get this before (you can figure out Underline but not Capitalize??) the field trip, but i did think i was going to make it to class.
sorry for missing class and making you read all of this.
I posted back a little missive with a subject line of "........................."
Hola D....
Regarding your ABSENCE on el jueves el ocho de abril de dos mil ONCE, I will need a hard copy signed by Professor A. or an email directly from him/her.
Hasta pronto
El Profe
I feel bad for using Spanglish but this was about as civil as I could be after inhaling this damn spray starch....
Regarding your ABSENCE on el jueves el ocho de abril de dos mil ONCE, I will need a hard copy signed by Professor A. or an email directly from him/her.
Hasta pronto
El Profe
I feel bad for using Spanglish but this was about as civil as I could be after inhaling this damn spray starch....
Inspiration is where you find it..
I was walking down Amnesia Lane with an old friend via FB messaging & his words inspired me to tell this story. Here is the last paragraph of his message:
Today, I am the perfect me. The perfect summation of my past and my goals for the future. Without them, I would not be who I am. Without those friends, I would not be who I am.
I guess you could say I was still walking Wildways until probably MG 02. I had been off the scene & just working cater waiter jobs since Xmas but I decided to tempt fate & happened to run into my evil ginger tranny snaggle-puss ex-roommate Summer, who walked up to me & slapped my face in 735. Chaos ensued, no police were called but I walked away from the fruit loop for good. I didn't step foot near that corner unless I was coming to or from work & even then I trod very cautiously. By Labor Day, I'd been blessed enough to have met a boyfriend who helped finance not only my 1st year at UNO but also spending money for my trip to LA for the taping of The Weakest Link (Aug 28th, the 1st Thursday of my 1st semester).
Well, I'm sure you know how that part went. (& If not, I'll attach a link)
So when I got back to NOLA, it was Southern Decadence. I worked a beer bar out of the doors of the Bourbon Orleans & made a Fortune (for me) & was feelin good after several months of sobriety & success.
All of this elation was tempered (not to say devastated) by a call from my landlady that Monday, informing me that my neighbors had reported dead dogs in the back yard. I said "hunh???" You see, around this time I had acquired a biracial vegetarian stripper cokehead whom I'll call Betti Spaghetti. What she didn't tell me after we met (thru a cokehead cabdriver neighbor of mine) was that she was bringing a dog along. Well, the long & the short is that the dog had had puppies in the backyard & Betti was supposed to be getting rid of them to other strippers. I never even looked in the backyard the whole weekend because the curtains were always closed & I guess I took it for granted the dogs, like her, were gone. What I discovered was altogether more gruesome. I went back there to find where there had been 7 puppies & 1 mama, there were 2 puppies barking in the corner of the yard with the mama on a chain & the bodies of 2 puppies that had clearly been eaten close to her. I still do not know to this day where the other 3 puppies are.
So, after feeling like I'm in the middle of the worst nightmare of my life, I call the SPCA.
The man on the phone is absolutely retarded. I'm sure I was a little...unnerved but he was totally unhelpful & when I told him what street I lived on "Grand Route St. John" this man tells me "We don't serve St. John Parish, this is Orleans only" I asked to speak to a supervisor. Well, maybe I yelled a little bit. The supervisor was pretty brusque as well & when I explained my situation as calmly as I could (which is to say probably not much) & I remember telling this woman "I just don't know what to do. I can't bring these animals up inside my house as they are crawling with fleas but I can't leave them out there, I'm scared there are going to be more dead dogs in the back yard when I wake up & this idiot man who answered the phone is too stupid to know that my street is not a parish--" and then Miss Woman cut me off & said I was being abusive & then this ho HUNG UP ON ME.
I called back but those dirty mofos turned on the answering machine so I left them some hysterical message about being afraid of more dead dogs in the back yard.
I called my boyfriend in hysterics & like he had the presence of mind to come by with garbage bags & food for the mama dog. Thank God he actually had the fortitude to pick the lil dead darlings up, I was absolutely petrified to touch them. He fed the living puppies and kinda separated them from the mama dog, but there was no kind of kennel or anything & I didn't have anything like that so I think they dogs must have stayed the night out there because the SPCA didn't come out until the next day, around 1 PM.
My bitchy quasi-twin straight couple neighbors (more on these 2 in another blog) woke me up, banging on my door & questioning me about the dogs & I told them I didn't know when the SPCA would be there. They were really ugly with me (like these were my dogs in the 1st place anyway) like I should have taken care of them & I told them I didn't even know they were still there but they weren't hearing it. They were hoarders & had some chicken wire & so set up a lil cage on their side of the porch & took these poor flea ridden lil puppies up there & when the SPCA got there, it looked like they'd had them up there for awhile. The SPCA people were rude at best and didn't really seem like they were buying the whole Betti Spaghetti story (again, another blog, just relax) but it was the truth & I stuck with it. All I remember about them is that they took a report from what little information I could give them. I had her real name & the name of whichever skeezy bar it was she said she was working at but I don't think it was a whole lot to go on.
I never have seen Miss Spaghetti again. She called once & said she'd found a new place to live and that she'd be by for her stuff the next day (i.e. when I would be in class) & when I got home there was like a pyramidal stack of her boxes up in my living room. I got a call from her that night, saying that the cabdriver wanted to charge her a $40 moving fee (i'm sure she had better, shall we say, more jaw-grinding plans for that $40) and that she'd be by once she got a ride. A day later I guess that ho never found a ride bc I put all her boxes out on the street to let them be picked up like the trash she was.
My elation about the whole Weakest Link affair was pretty crushed the following Monday, when I was arrested on a warrant for a weed charge I had previously been told was dropped, but that truly is another story.
Geez grrl I really didn't set out to tell you all this, but I'm glad I did. It is all inspired by the last paragraph of your message. I honestly cried when I read those words, for they are to live by. They are the best expression of where I am at most days. Without this (and so many other tragedies) I could never have experienced the dimensions of Fierceness that I have achieved, am achieving & will continue to achieve.
Praise Bless.
Today, I am the perfect me. The perfect summation of my past and my goals for the future. Without them, I would not be who I am. Without those friends, I would not be who I am.
I guess you could say I was still walking Wildways until probably MG 02. I had been off the scene & just working cater waiter jobs since Xmas but I decided to tempt fate & happened to run into my evil ginger tranny snaggle-puss ex-roommate Summer, who walked up to me & slapped my face in 735. Chaos ensued, no police were called but I walked away from the fruit loop for good. I didn't step foot near that corner unless I was coming to or from work & even then I trod very cautiously. By Labor Day, I'd been blessed enough to have met a boyfriend who helped finance not only my 1st year at UNO but also spending money for my trip to LA for the taping of The Weakest Link (Aug 28th, the 1st Thursday of my 1st semester).
Well, I'm sure you know how that part went. (& If not, I'll attach a link)
So when I got back to NOLA, it was Southern Decadence. I worked a beer bar out of the doors of the Bourbon Orleans & made a Fortune (for me) & was feelin good after several months of sobriety & success.
All of this elation was tempered (not to say devastated) by a call from my landlady that Monday, informing me that my neighbors had reported dead dogs in the back yard. I said "hunh???" You see, around this time I had acquired a biracial vegetarian stripper cokehead whom I'll call Betti Spaghetti. What she didn't tell me after we met (thru a cokehead cabdriver neighbor of mine) was that she was bringing a dog along. Well, the long & the short is that the dog had had puppies in the backyard & Betti was supposed to be getting rid of them to other strippers. I never even looked in the backyard the whole weekend because the curtains were always closed & I guess I took it for granted the dogs, like her, were gone. What I discovered was altogether more gruesome. I went back there to find where there had been 7 puppies & 1 mama, there were 2 puppies barking in the corner of the yard with the mama on a chain & the bodies of 2 puppies that had clearly been eaten close to her. I still do not know to this day where the other 3 puppies are.
So, after feeling like I'm in the middle of the worst nightmare of my life, I call the SPCA.
The man on the phone is absolutely retarded. I'm sure I was a little...unnerved but he was totally unhelpful & when I told him what street I lived on "Grand Route St. John" this man tells me "We don't serve St. John Parish, this is Orleans only" I asked to speak to a supervisor. Well, maybe I yelled a little bit. The supervisor was pretty brusque as well & when I explained my situation as calmly as I could (which is to say probably not much) & I remember telling this woman "I just don't know what to do. I can't bring these animals up inside my house as they are crawling with fleas but I can't leave them out there, I'm scared there are going to be more dead dogs in the back yard when I wake up & this idiot man who answered the phone is too stupid to know that my street is not a parish--" and then Miss Woman cut me off & said I was being abusive & then this ho HUNG UP ON ME.
I called back but those dirty mofos turned on the answering machine so I left them some hysterical message about being afraid of more dead dogs in the back yard.
I called my boyfriend in hysterics & like he had the presence of mind to come by with garbage bags & food for the mama dog. Thank God he actually had the fortitude to pick the lil dead darlings up, I was absolutely petrified to touch them. He fed the living puppies and kinda separated them from the mama dog, but there was no kind of kennel or anything & I didn't have anything like that so I think they dogs must have stayed the night out there because the SPCA didn't come out until the next day, around 1 PM.
My bitchy quasi-twin straight couple neighbors (more on these 2 in another blog) woke me up, banging on my door & questioning me about the dogs & I told them I didn't know when the SPCA would be there. They were really ugly with me (like these were my dogs in the 1st place anyway) like I should have taken care of them & I told them I didn't even know they were still there but they weren't hearing it. They were hoarders & had some chicken wire & so set up a lil cage on their side of the porch & took these poor flea ridden lil puppies up there & when the SPCA got there, it looked like they'd had them up there for awhile. The SPCA people were rude at best and didn't really seem like they were buying the whole Betti Spaghetti story (again, another blog, just relax) but it was the truth & I stuck with it. All I remember about them is that they took a report from what little information I could give them. I had her real name & the name of whichever skeezy bar it was she said she was working at but I don't think it was a whole lot to go on.
I never have seen Miss Spaghetti again. She called once & said she'd found a new place to live and that she'd be by for her stuff the next day (i.e. when I would be in class) & when I got home there was like a pyramidal stack of her boxes up in my living room. I got a call from her that night, saying that the cabdriver wanted to charge her a $40 moving fee (i'm sure she had better, shall we say, more jaw-grinding plans for that $40) and that she'd be by once she got a ride. A day later I guess that ho never found a ride bc I put all her boxes out on the street to let them be picked up like the trash she was.
My elation about the whole Weakest Link affair was pretty crushed the following Monday, when I was arrested on a warrant for a weed charge I had previously been told was dropped, but that truly is another story.
Geez grrl I really didn't set out to tell you all this, but I'm glad I did. It is all inspired by the last paragraph of your message. I honestly cried when I read those words, for they are to live by. They are the best expression of where I am at most days. Without this (and so many other tragedies) I could never have experienced the dimensions of Fierceness that I have achieved, am achieving & will continue to achieve.
Praise Bless.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
A Fiery adventure with a Happy Ending...
So this morning I had planned to leave him quite early to go to campus & study before my conversation class at 4:30 but instead I got involved with Facebook & returning emails. So I was in my bedroom when I heard an electric type buzzing noise (like the kind you hear when a transformer or something goes out) like Buzz--BUZZ--buzz, and I looked in the living room & I saw a light in the corner of the room gettin brighter & darker & I thought, "There's no lamp right there!" and I ran into the living room and saw smoke coming from behind my sofa, the one that's under the window. Fortunately I had the presence of mind to grab the fire extinguisher from under my sink & I ran back into the living room, and I pulled the couch away from the wall to see exactly what was burning, (thinking I'd forgotten to unplug my heating pad or some equally absurd thing) & the electrical cord from my AC window unit was plugged into a circuit breaker-type, single plug extension cord (same voltage as the plug in the wall) and that's what was on fire, where the two cords were plugged in. I put the fire out with a couple of generous sprays of the fire extinguisher but the smoke got everywhere (not to mention CO2 dust, ugh). Just as all of this is going on I got a phone call from one of my supervisors at Tulane, asking me some question about scheduling training. I was like "I'm in the middle of an electrical fire, I will have to talk to you later!"
Since the fire was out, I called my landlady to tell her what was happening & she had heard the electrical noise & she was asking me about that. She came up (along with our gardener, to have a look at things, and he pulled the couch further away from the wall & we noted the burnt up carpet & the burnt spot on the back of the couch. She got her son (who is a contractor & our general handyman, I guess you could say) to come have a look at it and he was kinda freaked that the circuit breaker didn't work. I was freaked about it too, especially considering that the air conditioner wasn't even on! In fact, I don't think I have turned it on in several days. I am so grateful that I had drawn the curtains last night, and had them up in the tiebacks, or else they'd have gone up in no time flat.
I am even more grateful for my friend & classmate Estefanía. Not long after all this business was over, she called to offer me a ride to school. I told her what had just happened & she was like Scarlett O'Hara to me. She was so kind--she picked up lunch for us & when she came over & saw the dust all over the place, she said, "After we get finished eating, I'm gonna help you clean up in here." What a Life Saver!!!
Believe me when I tell you every single surface in both rooms was coated with varying depths of white CO2 dust & ash. Ugh. This gal was a trooper. We both cleaned in the living room, but pretty soon I had to get out of her way & start cleaning off all these smiley face things on my computer desk. Every time I looked in the other room, she was slinging furniture all over the place, frantically dusting & vacuuming everything in sight. We must have dusted & re-dusted my entertainment center at least 3 times because there was so much dust all up in my curtains. Double ugh. We took down all those things & oh Lord we were some busy little worker bees!
I really can't thank her enough. Well, her & her ADD meds. I didn't take any, but I kinda got the buzz by osmosis, if you know what I mean. There is no way I would have had the oomph to get done half of the stuff we got done in about 3 or 4 hours by myself. We were a bit late to class (& I'm sure smelled of residual smoke) but we still made it!
Life is so strange. Here I am, on the verge of taking my comprehensive exams for my MA next week, about to receive another award & graduate & go on to the next amazing chapter & I could have been on the streets, if not for my internet addiction & quick thinking. & My house would still be looking like Cocaine Paradise, if not for the Amazing Estefanía!!!
This is how I should know that I am, quite frankly, Too Blessed To Be Stressed!
Since the fire was out, I called my landlady to tell her what was happening & she had heard the electrical noise & she was asking me about that. She came up (along with our gardener, to have a look at things, and he pulled the couch further away from the wall & we noted the burnt up carpet & the burnt spot on the back of the couch. She got her son (who is a contractor & our general handyman, I guess you could say) to come have a look at it and he was kinda freaked that the circuit breaker didn't work. I was freaked about it too, especially considering that the air conditioner wasn't even on! In fact, I don't think I have turned it on in several days. I am so grateful that I had drawn the curtains last night, and had them up in the tiebacks, or else they'd have gone up in no time flat.
I am even more grateful for my friend & classmate Estefanía. Not long after all this business was over, she called to offer me a ride to school. I told her what had just happened & she was like Scarlett O'Hara to me. She was so kind--she picked up lunch for us & when she came over & saw the dust all over the place, she said, "After we get finished eating, I'm gonna help you clean up in here." What a Life Saver!!!
Believe me when I tell you every single surface in both rooms was coated with varying depths of white CO2 dust & ash. Ugh. This gal was a trooper. We both cleaned in the living room, but pretty soon I had to get out of her way & start cleaning off all these smiley face things on my computer desk. Every time I looked in the other room, she was slinging furniture all over the place, frantically dusting & vacuuming everything in sight. We must have dusted & re-dusted my entertainment center at least 3 times because there was so much dust all up in my curtains. Double ugh. We took down all those things & oh Lord we were some busy little worker bees!
I really can't thank her enough. Well, her & her ADD meds. I didn't take any, but I kinda got the buzz by osmosis, if you know what I mean. There is no way I would have had the oomph to get done half of the stuff we got done in about 3 or 4 hours by myself. We were a bit late to class (& I'm sure smelled of residual smoke) but we still made it!
Life is so strange. Here I am, on the verge of taking my comprehensive exams for my MA next week, about to receive another award & graduate & go on to the next amazing chapter & I could have been on the streets, if not for my internet addiction & quick thinking. & My house would still be looking like Cocaine Paradise, if not for the Amazing Estefanía!!!
This is how I should know that I am, quite frankly, Too Blessed To Be Stressed!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Fun with make up tests!
So this student who sent me the deranged email from the previous blog found me in the copy room during my office hours yesterday (which kinda blows his/her excuse about a doctor's appointment, btw) and it really was a good thing I was copying the tests I was about to administer so I didn't have to look at him/her in the face.
--Did you get my email, Don?
--Yes.
--Is that cool if I come during your office hours for that retake.
--Yes. (still staring at the copy machine)
--I was just wondering if you got my email.
--Yes. (continue staring at the copy machine as it proceeds to have a nervous breakdown in sympathy as the paper jams)
--OK I wasn't really sure I sent it to the right email.
--I'll see you Wednesday, the copy machine is going crazy.
Fast-Forward to my office hours today. They begin at 1 & class is at two. Crazy Student breezes in to my office (where another student is taking a makeup as well), waving around this piece of paper, saying "I was making a copy of this for" (umm, the last time you saw me I was at a copy machine, I'm pretty sure I could have made a copy, paper jams tend not to have long-term damage) I took this person outside & questioned him/her about the logic involved with showing up 15 minutes late. I got a blank stare followed by:
--Well, I didn't realize you were such a stickler for punctuality. I figured I could just take the test real fast & then see you in class.
--What you are not understanding here is that our class starts at 2. This means you will have to take the test "real fast" & then I will have to grade it "real fast" so you can make an informed decision about whether or not you are going to drop this class. What I am not understanding is why you weren't here earlier. If it were me in this situation, I promise you I would have been here 15 minutes earlier, STUDYING. Perhaps with those notecards I mentioned in class.
You have no idea how glad I was that the next thing I heard was not "What are notecards?"
So I had this person sit & take the test & SURPRISE: an F. S/He sat there & watched me grade the test. I couldn't look at him/her then either. After I wrote the 48 on the page I handed the test back & said, "I really don't know what to say about this that I haven't already said. I honestly do my very best to try to make this material comprehensible but this is clearly not the time for you to be taking this class."
More blank staring & then a sort of hangdog look & then "Ok, then, see you around."
Needless to say this person was absent from class but, last time I checked online, has still not dropped the class.
In other news, here is the latest gem from my inbox, from a different student:
--Did you get my email, Don?
--Yes.
--Is that cool if I come during your office hours for that retake.
--Yes. (still staring at the copy machine)
--I was just wondering if you got my email.
--Yes. (continue staring at the copy machine as it proceeds to have a nervous breakdown in sympathy as the paper jams)
--OK I wasn't really sure I sent it to the right email.
--I'll see you Wednesday, the copy machine is going crazy.
Fast-Forward to my office hours today. They begin at 1 & class is at two. Crazy Student breezes in to my office (where another student is taking a makeup as well), waving around this piece of paper, saying "I was making a copy of this for" (umm, the last time you saw me I was at a copy machine, I'm pretty sure I could have made a copy, paper jams tend not to have long-term damage) I took this person outside & questioned him/her about the logic involved with showing up 15 minutes late. I got a blank stare followed by:
--Well, I didn't realize you were such a stickler for punctuality. I figured I could just take the test real fast & then see you in class.
--What you are not understanding here is that our class starts at 2. This means you will have to take the test "real fast" & then I will have to grade it "real fast" so you can make an informed decision about whether or not you are going to drop this class. What I am not understanding is why you weren't here earlier. If it were me in this situation, I promise you I would have been here 15 minutes earlier, STUDYING. Perhaps with those notecards I mentioned in class.
You have no idea how glad I was that the next thing I heard was not "What are notecards?"
So I had this person sit & take the test & SURPRISE: an F. S/He sat there & watched me grade the test. I couldn't look at him/her then either. After I wrote the 48 on the page I handed the test back & said, "I really don't know what to say about this that I haven't already said. I honestly do my very best to try to make this material comprehensible but this is clearly not the time for you to be taking this class."
More blank staring & then a sort of hangdog look & then "Ok, then, see you around."
Needless to say this person was absent from class but, last time I checked online, has still not dropped the class.
In other news, here is the latest gem from my inbox, from a different student:
Buenas noches Dr. Ray,
I would have liked to speak with you in person in regards with my grades but since I procrastinated, I can't do so and I sincerely apologize for that. I understand that I've made a lot of poor grades (i.e I have failed everything and never done any homework). since I started this class. And I was wondering, if possible, by doing all of the assignments and voice recordings, along with doing exceptional on the next few tests that I would end up with a possible C? I'm not even sure if I'm asking too much for even a C. I was hoping to get an insight with you on whether or not I should just drop this class. Thank you for your time
Ok. Now this I can deal with.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
& I thought the notecard questions were insolent...
Here is another awesome email from one of my lil brainiacs. This person actually sent this to me twice, 1st as a reply to a mass email I sent a week ago & the second time as a stand-alone message. Neither time did /she actually sign it. In case you are wondering why s/he calls me "Don," it is because I often sign my emails "Don Samuel"--i.e. it is a title & not my 1st name. I'm not sure this person knows this or not. Please understand that this is a student who didn't come to the midterm (nor send an email or call ahead) and just popped back into class the following Wednesday. I offered to let him/her take a make-up on Friday, s/he agreed. When I arrived Friday, guess what s/he was sitting around doing at this desk in the Foreign Languages Office? If you guessed "studying," You're Dead Wrong. S/he was Texting. TEXTING!! Needless to say, s/he was CLEARLY not ready to take the midterm, so I allowed him/her until Monday to prepare. This is also someone who hasn't passed ANYTHING besides one quiz (and I think I was probably drunk when i graded it, so it's most likely a mistake on my part than studying on his/hers). S/he scraped by on the midterm & decided NOT to drop the class (against my advice). So now, without any further ado, comes this (file it under: give an inch & they try to take a mile)
Hey Don
Check it out. I just got word that I have a doctors (doctor's, you mean) appointment for Monday at 2:30pm. (Our class is at 2:00pm) Its (It's or it is) really difficult for me to get these appoinments so I have to go when they fit me in. I know we have a test on Monday and I am trying to do better then the stunt I pulled during the exam and let you know as soon as I know. (Have YOU ever heard of a doctor's office that gave out appointments on Sunday??) I will be able to provide a doctors excuse from their office. If your (you're or you are) not cool with letting me make up the test I respect that as you have already done it once (actually twice, if you think about it) but I want you to let me know the verdict. (No, you really don't) I resent (re-sent, you mean?) it cause (because, you mean) I did not change the subject in the reply email and I did not want you to think I was that lazy. (TOO LATE)
This is me again. Le Sigh. I haven't answered this yet. I would appreciate some suggestions here. I am completely at a loss. Every time I try, I just end up typing "PLEASE DROP THIS CLASS & STOP MAKING ME GRADE THIS NONSENSE YOU ARE NOT EVEN TRYING TO STUDY" or some variant thereof.....
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