I Can Stop Whenever I Want
I’ve been to a casino before. Couple of times, actually. Atlantic City, Las Vegas, Biloxi. Been there. And I’ve even dropped a couple of dollars in a slot machine. And I can honestly say, it doesn’t do a thing for me. Nothing. For me, playing slots is like seeing a cop on the side of the road flick on his lights while I’m on the interstate: there may be flashing lights and loud noises, and there may be a lot of adrenaline involved, but I can’t shake the sinking feeling that I’m may lose some cash on this one. So, I’ve never understood the impulse that drives people to casinos. Until this week.
See, this is the week that my school posts grades. I’d love to say that this is the “day” that my school posts grades. That would have been Wednesday. As it is, this is the week my school is SUPPOSED to post grades. And that means that for close to 72 hours, the Cumberland School of the Americas (if you get that joke, I’m very impressed) has trickled a grade here and there, careful never to completely disclose any one student’s complete slate of marks. Where does that leave me and the rest of the detainees? Oh, we live a shadow existence. Like a geriatric chain-smoking wheelchair-bound oxygen bottle toting blue-haired slot machine jockey, we sit, put in the password, and pray to come out a winner instead of pathetic grade obsessed approval junkies who know that checking the school web any more than every 15-20 seconds signals the advent of some very unhealthy neuroses. I only have one grade left to go: Constitutional Law I. That’s right. I start Constitutional Law II on Monday but on Friday still don’t know if I swam, treaded water, or went swimming less that 30 minutes after eating a big meal in my first effort at this kind of important bit of my legal education. I’m pretty sure this is a violation of my 8th Amendment rights. And if you got that joke, shouldn’t you be checking your grades right now? I hear Payment Systems may have been posted. Suckers.
Other than that, all’s well. I am officiating at a law school friend’s wedding this weekend here in Mobile. Sunday I’ll try to figure out how to pack my brief-case-sized trunk with the crap I need to carry back to Birmingham. I need one of those Chinese guys who magically fit artificial Christmas trees into those little boxes and defy all laws of space, time, and physics by getting the strings of lights into those even tinier boxes. Maybe they could figure out how to get a suit, a week’s worth of clothes, a guitar, an amp, the Xbox (non-360), my computer, a cocktail shaker, a jar of olives, a few books, my shoes, and a semester’s worth of fear and loathing into the trunk of my S2K. Oh, and none of that can really go up front, cause that’s where Butters sits. Having a two seater forces one to embody the philosophy: “Live simply that others may simply live.” Or something like that.
See, this is the week that my school posts grades. I’d love to say that this is the “day” that my school posts grades. That would have been Wednesday. As it is, this is the week my school is SUPPOSED to post grades. And that means that for close to 72 hours, the Cumberland School of the Americas (if you get that joke, I’m very impressed) has trickled a grade here and there, careful never to completely disclose any one student’s complete slate of marks. Where does that leave me and the rest of the detainees? Oh, we live a shadow existence. Like a geriatric chain-smoking wheelchair-bound oxygen bottle toting blue-haired slot machine jockey, we sit, put in the password, and pray to come out a winner instead of pathetic grade obsessed approval junkies who know that checking the school web any more than every 15-20 seconds signals the advent of some very unhealthy neuroses. I only have one grade left to go: Constitutional Law I. That’s right. I start Constitutional Law II on Monday but on Friday still don’t know if I swam, treaded water, or went swimming less that 30 minutes after eating a big meal in my first effort at this kind of important bit of my legal education. I’m pretty sure this is a violation of my 8th Amendment rights. And if you got that joke, shouldn’t you be checking your grades right now? I hear Payment Systems may have been posted. Suckers.
Other than that, all’s well. I am officiating at a law school friend’s wedding this weekend here in Mobile. Sunday I’ll try to figure out how to pack my brief-case-sized trunk with the crap I need to carry back to Birmingham. I need one of those Chinese guys who magically fit artificial Christmas trees into those little boxes and defy all laws of space, time, and physics by getting the strings of lights into those even tinier boxes. Maybe they could figure out how to get a suit, a week’s worth of clothes, a guitar, an amp, the Xbox (non-360), my computer, a cocktail shaker, a jar of olives, a few books, my shoes, and a semester’s worth of fear and loathing into the trunk of my S2K. Oh, and none of that can really go up front, cause that’s where Butters sits. Having a two seater forces one to embody the philosophy: “Live simply that others may simply live.” Or something like that.
posted by graysandpeas | 2:34 PM
1 Comments:
How ironic that the teacher that posted a syllabus for Spring semester with two weeks left in Fall semester will wait until Spring semester has begun to post the grades for the Fall semester. AH, remember the good ol' days of H. bitching about not getting his CivPro grade due to the inconsiderate pregnancy of a certain AT hiker. (If you get that joke, what's up Section 1!)
See you on Monday.
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