It is 11 pm on Thursday and I am watching Coronation Street with my partner, enjoying a rare moment of repose. In my opinion, relaxation is best accompanied by baking, and I deliver a plateful of amost-cooled lemon bars to the living room just as Lloyd is complaining that he cannot afford to redecorate his grotty cab office. ‘But Cheryl (pronounced Ch as in cheese, then ay-rul),’ he opines, ‘I am skinned!’ Continue reading
Do you want to know how to really piss me off? There are a number of ways to accomplish this worthy goal. For instance, you could e-mail me a petty complaint about yesterday’s midterm, sending it when I am surrounded by 90 hideously unmarked exam booklets, trembling with uncertainty while pondering that recurring question: Should I grade these exams, or jump off the High Level Bridge instead? Continue reading
I am gathering up my papers at the end of class when an earnestly intelligent young woman approaches me. ‘I have a question about our research assignment,’ she says. ‘Do you have time to talk now?’ ‘Of course,’ I reply, though my next class starts in a mere ten minutes and I really need to get a coffee, having dropped my first one in the subway station that morning. As I stood there, staring at the brown puddle on the tiled floor, another patron stopped and sympathetically remarked ‘that’s sad, isn’t it?’ ‘Yes it is,’ I nodded as our eyes met in shared recognition of the utter hopelessness of the human condition. It was magical. Back to my brain-foggy classroom: ‘I want to analyze the representation of women during the early modern period by comparing a European print with an Asian one, drawn from the university’s collections.’ ‘That’s a great idea,’ I respond, pleased that she has understood my you-must-work-only-from-original-sources tyrannical style. ‘Once you have selected your images, come and see me to discuss the literature on this topic; it is quite extensive.’ ‘I know,’ she continues. ‘I have already read a few articles, including some of your publications. I also found your blog.’ Continue reading
Awake at 2 am on a Thursday morning, I decide to write this blog post instead of doing my much-procrastinated Ghiberti/Donatello course prep. Endora is to blame for my rare bout of insomnia. Sleeping with her is like having a 20-pound heat rock in bed at the best of times, but today she decided to mimic a bear skin rug by spread eagling on my chest and resting her head just beneath my chin. In an extreme state of comfort, she then began to snore. So here I am, filling the hours stretching before me by providing details about my furry, wisdom-filled week. Not that Endora is particularly wise. In fact, I think she is about as smart as a bag of hammers. Cute though.
I can’t stay mad at you!
Everything is going my way these days, and I am finally at the competition of my dreams. This time, however, my partner is on stage, showing off his stuff, while I am in the audience, shouting encouragement. ‘Work it baby! You’ve got this!’ All that dieting, shaving, and shining is about to pay off, here, at the ‘Arnold Classic World’s Most Beautiful Balls Contest.’ Continue reading
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