Aliens are real.

One of the reasons I love teaching is that it's different every day. Unfortunately, that typically means "different ways in which my mind is blown, and not in a good way, every day."

A good deal of my friends are teachers, so they might not find any of this all that surprising. If you don't typically interact with the next generation, allow me to shed some light on what they're like. You already know they think it's ok to walk into professor's offices barefoot. Here are a few additional notes from the field that, at least from my perspective as an instructor, seem highly representative--

1/ Yesterday in class someone's phone cheerily prompted the whole class to "Say a command!" I said, "please do not say a command. Please just put your phone away." This was after I had already asked them to stop texting in class. (This, or some version of this, pretty much happens every single day.)

2/ Last week a student asked me to download a word processing program to his computer for him. When I explained that I can't do that because I am his teacher and not his personal secretary, his face displayed utter befuddlement. (It had clearly not occurred to him that this was a totally inappropriate request, or that I would say no for any reason.)

This is the same student who does not have the book for the class because "he does not want to walk to the bookstore." 

3/ Yesterday 4 students did not bring their books to class. These students had no idea how to solve the problem of me asking them to answer questions out of their books which they did not have. "What should I do?" I am not joking. I had to tell them to look on with a classmate.

Several minutes after, I saw another student who did not have the book just staring off into space. I guess he thought it would be a good idea to do that for 15 minutes straight. (Remember the Seinfeld episode where Puddy and Elaine are on a plane and he just stares into the seat in front of him? It was like that, except I did not yell "That's it! I cannot take this anymore!" But I really, really wanted to.)

4/ This morning a student emailed to ask whether she's still in danger of not passing the class. The withdraw date, which I reminded them of more than once, was two weeks ago.

5/ Also this morning I had to explain to someone why Nutcase Kent Hovind is not a viable source for a research essay. I think I wrote something like "A conspiracy theorist and convicted felon does not count as a reliable source." I actually had to tell someone that. It reminded me of the time I came across this Onion article treated with total seriousness in a student essay.

If I had more of a green thumb, I'd look for a career in gardening. Plants make a lot more sense to me than people...

On a positive note, I'm really looking forward to taking off next semester to clean up spit up and baby poop. At this point, compared to dealing with any of the aforementioned insanity, changing the ooziest, foulest, most pungent diaper known to man sounds like a truly delightful treat.

New food pt. 2

Ok so this type of food is not new to me. And if it were, I wouldn't admit it because what kind of wackadoo has never had lettuce? But self-made carrots and lettuce is new to me.

Remember early October? That's when I planted these. Mostly on a wing and a prayer. (I just can't use/hear that phrase without thinking "Whoooo could it be? Believe it or not it's just meee...")

I worried over them. Were my lettuces too close together? Did I do a sufficient tilling job to avoid corkscrewed carrots?

Apparently all they needed was about 5 months of neglect and coldness. That might qualify these for the most emo veggies I've ever grown.

Actually, this haphazard arrangement kind of looks like the "$100-but-specially-made-to-look-like-I-cut-it-myself" emo hairstyle of lettuce. I call it "The Jared Leto-ce" (Anybody? Jared Leto? Lettuce? ...Maybe it would help to imagine the pot's wearing eyeliner.)

Rest assured, though; Jared Leto-ce has plenty of friends...

One of which is the cutest, tiniest, adorable-ist, "awww"-inducing carrot of all time. Are you ready?

In addition to the "first" of growing these, this is certainly the first time I've referred to a carrot as "cute." I mean, it's just so darn cute--it's toy sized! If the five year old me encountered such a cute carrot, my Jem doll would be in for a real treat!

A rare occasion on which I am not furious with squirrels

Right now I'm on a quick break from doing this: 

Lemme tell ya, it's a blast. In fact, I'm sure you're feeling a little bad about hanging out in your nice comfortable house denying yourself the pleasure of digging rows. So, you know, if you felt like you needed to come over and get in on the party, I'd let you join. Cause we're friends and I'm generous like that. 

Anyway, normally squirrels and I don't get along. When they root up my garden or steal birdseed (which is ALL THEY DO IN LIFE), I curse the day their deceptively cute rodent mother birthed them into this world. 

But a moment ago I found this, and I have to admit I kind of liked them a little bit for it. I can feel that like quickly fading... but it was there for a moment. And it was bizarre. Almost as bizarre as the fact that people are now willingly paying money to see Charlie Sheen rant at them live. 

Pee-can. 

New food pt. 1

I've always been an egg lover, and lately since I'm trying to get enough protein to successfully create another person, I've been eating eggs pretty much every day.

So when Rena, my egg lady, sent me an email that contained the phrase "I have a few turkey eggs" I was all like "I WILL BE THERE!"

While turkey eggs are not as large as the dinosaur eggs the Chopped contestants find in their baskets, they're still a fun adventure and plenty large. Here's what they look like:

The egg on the bottom is a regular chicken egg for scale. It's blue, even though you can't tell in this picture.


Turkey eggs, or at least the eggs from whatever particular type of turkey this is, are beautifully freckled, and with a really tough shell. To describe the yolk*, you might use words like bulbous, girthy, globular, or pudding-y. Really. Scrambling these was like scrambling pudding.

They did not taste like pudding, though. Turkey eggs that taste like pudding would blow my mind. They were a bit richer, almost fattier tasting than chicken eggs, and totally delicious with a little salt, pepper, butter and dill.

Added bonus to my egg adventure: Doug got to come closer than ever to smelling an actual turkey. He was utterly olfactorily enthralled.

*I took a pick of the cracked eggs, but then thought that might gross people out. I don't know why an egg yolk would gross anyone out, but some folks are precious and delicate and weird about food like that. (I'll never forget the time a person who eats cow body parts tried to convince me that tomato seeds are "gross.") 

Very important quiz, people! Answer correctly and you may win a mimosa! (And by that I mean you may win the opportunity to buy yourself a mimosa.)

It’s just 3 questions, but you will learn a lot about yourself from it. A lot. 

1) True or false?

Lemon pizza sounds delicious.

2) True or false?

Pickle pizza sounds delicious.

3) True or false?

The trailer for the Disney movie African Cats makes you weep like a sniveling idiot.

So, how’d you do?

If you answered “False” to most of these—

 Congratulations! Your normal-ish! Buy yourself a mimosa! Multiple mimosas!

 

If you answered “So Effin’ True” to most of these—

 Congratulations! You’re pregnant! LIKE ME!

*Bonus points: you’re extra pregnant like me if you live in a town in the deep south that only recently—finally—in 2011— voted to allow Sunday alcohol sales. That’s right. Just in time for you to never again know the joys of a Sunday brunch mimosa. (Congratulations! Eat five motherf*%&*n’ Cadbury eggs instead!)

My fetus totally looks like this astronaut

See? Toldja.

PS: Do you think whoever it is in there would enjoy this toy? 

Spring and all

Here's what I think about spring: when I lived in MA for a few years, that's when I realized that I had never really and truly appreciated spring. See, in MA you start seeing daffodils in the grocery store right around St. Patty's Day (even though there may be a blizzard on St. Patty's Day) and that means winter is almost over and soon it'll be snow-free and things are going to be slushy and muddy but generally gorgeous and awesome!

Having grown up in and now returned to the Southeast, I realize that daffodils say something entirely different to me than they did in MA. Here, they say something like: Hey guess what? It's kinda nice weather now even though your car's yellow from pollen, but soon we'll once again journey through 5 relentless months of the most unbearable, humid, make-you-want-to-rip-your-skin-off-because-it's-so-damn-hot summer known to man! 

So, yeah, basically I now think of spring as the singing telegram dressed in bright happy colors who rings your doorbell only to serenade you with a dirge of the death-that-is-Summer.

 But, still, there're a few nice things about spring, I guess--

Baseball spring training & forthcoming actual baseball.

Vegetable garden planning.

Pine Warblers at the feeder. 

(All my photography attempts at these guys thusfar have failed.) 

Plus, a whole house that smells like this: 

Thank you to whoever lived here before and planted hyacinth!

By the way, if you are one of those Spring Lovers, The Art of Doing Stuff has some great porn for you.