EXACTLY.

I've been working on writing the syllabus for the class I'm teaching this semester. It really doesn't help that the department syllabus -- the one that tells which sections to cover, and approximately how many days to take on each -- was written for a different textbook, and no one seems to know where the one for the new textbook is.

Also, there are a few things in the course that I need to learn before I can teach them. This'll be interesting.

I'm earwormed with the entire soundtrack to Mamma Mia!

Just thought I'd share.

Good luck with the syllabus, Hil.

And then he adds that his wife is Thai, and that she's a liar too, and that she lies to his face - although at least she's not as bad as most Thais.

Buh? I cannot wrap my head around this.

Buh? I cannot wrap my head around this.

The distinction is that most other Thais only lie to his arse, figuring that if he's talking out of it this must be where he wants to hold the conversation.

Sounds like you've got the King of the Fuck Cakes for a neighbor, there, Fay.

What's the bloody point of that? Insane! Surely REMEDIAL implies that it's for the people who aren't achieving the expected level? Rather than standard?

The class was mandated to address the disparity in reading scores of minority students, which is a serious concern for the Cleveland school district, as it is composed of mostly minorities. I believe they forced everyone, including students in the gifted/honors program, to take it so it could not be felt any one was being singled out.

How badly it sucked depended largely on the teacher, though. The first year was really bad, which was when I was so unhappy with it, and did so poorly. The second year I had it, the teacher rather cleverly designed exercises to work across skill levels. So no matter where you started in his class, you frickin' learned something. One thing we did every day was to write for 5 minutes - often he gave us a topic, sometimes it was left to us - points were given not for writing perfectly but just based on word count. So we got over our self-consciousness, and just concentrated on spitting stuff out. This really helped me sharpen my ability to get words on paper.

Buh? I cannot wrap my head around this.

Hil speaks for me on this.

Although I would also love to take him out back and show him what's what with Bertha.

Asswipe.

Fay, let me get this straight. If women won't touch me with a bargepole in the US, they will fawn over me in Thailand? AND there is yummy food everywhere. Hmmm. Maybe I should take a trip there.

And I've now switched Broadway shows, imagining omnis wandering about singing, "One night in Bangkok..."

I'm still on "I've Got a Lot of Living to Do" from Movies. God, I love that number.