It is 3:00 in the morning. I am awake, and unhappy about it. I wouldn't care if I didn't have to go to work tomorrow, but I do have to go to work. I'd mind less if I wasn't fighting off a nasty cold, and know that that means that I'll probably already be low energy tomorrow no matter what. This is irritating. Oh well.
So since I've just read a boat load of posts, I will give my responses.
I freaking love Pushing Daisies. LOVE. I made one of the guest performers in the episode recite his lines again for me this morning, since he works with me, and I could. Also, unrelated but sort of tangential, I really want to see Wicked while it's still at the Pantages.
I did not click on the link to the douche, but everyone's responses to his achievements have had me giggling insanely.
I took a bunch of the classes that the football players take my final semester in college. It was awesome. I loved those classes. Though one of the more terrifying things I heard one football player say was in my ceramics class. We had to build a bust of ourselves as someone else. I went with Queen Elizabeth I, but during her princess years, since I knew I did not want any part of making a ruff out of clay. One of the football players in the class made a bust of himself as his uncle, "because he's the strongest guy I know. They have a gym in the prison where he's at, and he, like, works out all the time." Everyone in the room who was not a football player went totally silent and looked at each other like, oooookay. I think he really did just say that.
Interestingly, the four teachers I liked best in college were all literary ones, two were Shakespeare oriented, one was a writing professor who just had this really laid-back way, almost like he didn't even care, but he gave me one of the best notes about my writing that I've ever received, and I deeply appreciated it, and another one was a filmwriting instructor who was just incredibly cool, and great, and knowledgable, and funny, and Oscar-winning, and he actually would listen and wanted to know what you had to say. Like, intent, focused listening. It was just so rare to find that sort of personal focus in a teacher, that I really, really appreciated it.
There were a number of teachers I disliked, and you have to understand that I'm sort of wired to want to please authority figures, that I like sitting in the front row, that I like knowing the correct answer, and I used to want to impress my teachers if at all possible, so it took a lot for me to really dislike a professor. But there were a few that were just so incredibly awful that even I couldn't forgive it. For instance, a certain author of Drop City was such an incredible douche that he flat out told us that he didn't like students who weren't in the advanced writing class (though the intermediate writing class that he had apparently agreed to teach was a required prerequisite for the advanced class), and as such, he didn't really intend to waste a lot of time on our work. And he certainly didn't. I disliked him so much that when I briefly worked at a used book store after college, I used to hide his books behind more interesting works if I couldn't just hide them in the back. It was petty but cathartic.
On the other hand, I did have a number of awesome teachers, so I guess it evens out. I felt haphazardly prepared for college by my teachers in high school, but I didn't blame them so much as the syllabus. Though our AP English teacher was horrified to learn that when asked if there was something in particular we'd like to go over (after the AP test was done and we had time to kill), our unanimous answer was "Yeah, grammar. We were never taught it, and we'd like to know it. Even though it's not on a test."
As far as asking for extensions, I don't specifically recall asking for any, but I do remember a number of teachers offering them to me if I needed one. For instance, my 10th grade English teacher approached me and told me quietly after class once that she knew how much I had on my plate, and if (continued...)