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« And Here's to the Silver Sea | Main | Upsetting »

Switching Off the Targeting Computer

I have not posted in a week, which, in blog terms, is four and a half geologic ages.  Entire species of dinosaurs have been created, flourished, and wiped out by a meteor, all since this little white box and I did battle.  Because the Internet doesn't have quite enough of people flinging electrons about in a desperate attempt to make their personal lives relevant.

I haven't been here because there has been a great e-stack and two night classes to teach; also, for the past seven days in a row, total strangers have been stomping through my home, noting the uneven door jamb and looking sorrowfully at the toothpaste-flecked bathroom faucets.  They will not lay down three hundred large for a home containing a suspicious varnish stain by the pantry and a thirtysomething freelance writer curled in the fetal position in the walk-in closet (carpeted!  shows well!)

Perhaps I will run away.

Maybe one of those singles holidays.  Nothing against Josh The Pilot, you understand.  It's just, at the moment, I require a great deal of alcohol, and for the next two nights at exactly class time I'd quite rather be in Really Really Far Away From Here Singles Holidays World.  Don't care where.  Don't care how.  Josh The Pilot can stay here to let the total strangers in, and eat Taco Bell fourteen times a week.

I'm focusing on a UK site here because it will perhaps make me more difficult to track.  I'll have booked reservations.... by a person who drives on the left side of the road.  The only caps-locks sentences will be on my airline ticket:  THIS PERSON IS GOING ON A SINGLES HOLIDAY, AND DESERVES A GREAT DEAL OF ALCOHOL.  Maybe I'll even book offshore. (Oh, look, a walking tour of Nepal!  And you can do it online!  Oh crap... they need your full legal name.)

midnight flight at:  mbe@drinktothelasses.com

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Reader Comments (9)

"For the money I pay, I shouldn't have to put up with this"? So, if you pay enough money for your schooling, I guess you'll get all As? Do you get a personal butler and limo ride to school, too?

September 29, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterj.s.

As a newly-returned-to-college adult old enough to have birthed her classmates, I say Hit 'Em Again! These chillun's truly cannot complete a thought... let alone a sentence. Keep up the good work!

September 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterCathy Bell

You, my dear, are a wonderful teacher. As a matter of fact, it was your postings regarding teaching that first made me a fan of yours many years ago. I teach college classes as well and have needed to know that there is a kindred spirit out there. Please don't forget that you rock.

September 29, 2009 | Unregistered Commentervnaumann

Kids these days can't wipe their own butts without their parents' help. Helicopter parents are ruining the world along with their children.

September 29, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterMaryClare

Too much trouble, all that running away to Nepal.

It would be far easier to send them whacked.

BTW, have I told you I been looking for extra free-lance jobs? :-P

September 29, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterred pill junkie

That is most kind of you to say,and I thank you.

September 30, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterMB

Don't run to Nepal. San Tropez.

September 30, 2009 | Unregistered Commenterstarnarcosis

Students suck. If you want I'll come down there and punch them in the knees for you.

Also, with the house sale, is it now confirmed that you will be moving to the land of the derby? When? Will I actually have a chance to get you a new housewarming gift in a reasonable amount of time this time around? (And by house gift I mean more wine.)

Don't go where they drive on the left side of the road, it is too confusing. Go on a big yacht. They don't have passport checks in the middle of the ocean.

October 1, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterKelle Belle

As a fellow teacher, I hear you. Hell hath no fury like a student with a mediocre paper who gets a completely fair grade.

Chin up. They'll see you were right one of these years.

October 2, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterGinny
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