Boy, do I feel like an idiot.

So, last night I was all cocky because I had finished most of my grading and just had a few ginormous papers (3 papers that were roughly 25 pages each) and a bunch of brief essays (23, 1-page papers) left. My grades were due at 4:00 today. No problem. Plenty of time.

At 1:30, I was getting ready to go to the office to do the final calculations and grade entry, which would take me an hour and a half or so. I would have time to spare. I basked in the glory of my efficiency.

Then Mr. Banality called and asked me to pick him up from the rec center. He had walked there to play basketball and had "messed up" his knee at the end of the final game. I got out some Tylenol and an ice pack and got the Viva ready for him (it was covered in exams at the time). No problem. I had time to spare.

I sat in the car near the entrance for a while, and when it became clear he wasn't going to come out, I parked and went to wait near the information desk. When it became clear he wasn't going to meet me there, I went to the basketball court, where he was sitting on the floor looking woozy. He was on the phone with the doctor's office.

I drove him to the doctor, finished my grading while waiting for him to get X-rays, and then ended up turning in my grades more than two hours late. The registrar was very nice about it, but I really hate inconveniencing her. I hate it a lot.

I'm an ass.

Edited to add: I'm such an ass that I didn't bother to provide information about Mr. Banality's condition. He might have torn a ligament (LCL) in his right knee.

I'm Uncreative with Post Titles

FANCY RESTAURANT REVIEW

This week, the Mr. and I spent some quality time with two delightful friends at one of the "nicer" restaurants in the area. I don't frequent the hoity toity joints all that often, so answer me this question: Is it customary to have the server replace your utensil as soon as you've so much as licked it? Because our server was constantly giving us new flatware, and it was a bit much.


Desserts in fancy-type restaurants must be decadent. And at this place, decadent = one dessert stacked on top of another dessert. There was the chocolate mousse topped with a cappuccino mousse, the brownie filled with hot fudge and topped with cream cheese frosting (I chose this one because the last time I had a brownie filled with hot fudge, I thought to myself, "This is good and all, but what it could really use is another layer of sugar and fat."), and the vanilla bean cheesecake topped with red velvet cake. O.K., I just made that last one up. NO I DIDN'T. I would have liked to have ordered that cheesecake just for the ridiculousness of it, but I'm allergic to vanilla bean, and it didn't seem worth the two weeks of Prednisone-related bloated irritability.


THOUGHTS DURING ONE OF MY FINAL EXAMS

• There are 43 people in this room. I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm the only one of those 43 people who has showered today.

• Why, yes, you may leave to get a drink of water, especially if it will prevent you from continuing to hack sputum all over that exam that I'll be touching later.

• Dude, you are, of course, welcome to take the full two hours allotted for the exam, but can't you speed things up a bit? I've had a lot of coffee this morning, and I really have to pee.
  

NO, I CAN'T TELL YOU WHAT YOUR CURRENT GRADE IS

But guess what? You can calculate it yourself! It's easy! Just (1) add together the points you have in the class so far, and (b) divide that by the total number of points available in the class so far! TA DA! It's not rocket science! Hell, it barely qualifies as math.

IT'S THAT TIME OF YEAR AGAIN!

The time of year when I like to point out to people that "Baby, It's Cold Outside" is a date rape song. (Say, what's in this drink?)


WHAT TO DO WHEN STUDENTS HAND IN THE EXAM

(Click to enlarge)
(Of course, it's much more complicated than this, but come on! I have to turn in grades tomorrow! I don't have time to make fancy flow charts just to entertain you people!)


YOU KNOW WHAT'S KIND OF FUN?
Instead of reading term papers, sing them in vocalese style, à la Lambert, Hendricks, & Ross. Thanks to Mr. Banality for the great tip!

End of the Term Misc

• The fancy exercise machines at the gym feature media centers with touch screens, but I can't get the touch screens to work. The other day I couldn't get the TV off of C-SPAN2's coverage of Chairman Bernanke talking about housing finance, which mostly made me want to lie down and take a nap. There's also a feature on these machines that allows you to hook your iPod up to the system so that you can use the touch screen to control your iPod. That didn't work out so well for me either because it was taking an eternity to scroll through the artist menu. I got fed up around the "J" portion of the list and ended up listening to Justin Timberlake for the duration of my run. The slow jams are not so great for running to (or for listening to for that matter), but it's pretty awesome to imagine that when JT says, "Damn, Girl!" he's referring to my incredible speed. But then will.i.am (who is featured on the "Damn, Girl" song) says something about "feminine gelatin," and suddenly I am wondering if there is any possible way to construe that as a sexy thing to say, and I conclude that it's not because ew. Then all I can think of is a certain aisle at Walgreens, and by the time I process all that, it's almost time for me to stop running.
  

• Dear Sweatpants, Please break up with Uggs. You guys do not make a good looking couple.
  

• The automated prescription refill lady always sounds so surprised to hear from me when I call her. And each time, I reflexively respond to the surprise in her voice by checking my prescription label to make sure I'm not trying to refill it too early. Last time I was.

• There is something about the Death Cab for Cutie song "Transatlanticism" that just gets me. I would have a huge crush on Ben Gibbard, but I can't get past his resemblance to Corey Feldman.

Ben Gibbard:

Corey Feldman:

• Mr. Banality and I are terrible at grocery shopping, and the consequences are not pretty. The other night, we needed to have some dinner tout de suite because Mr. Banality only had about 30 minutes before he was scheduled to meet his homies at the gym. This happens frequently, so you'd think we'd buy some foods that can be prepared quickly, but we don't. So, the other night we ate leftover cranberry sauce, an apple, and frozen spring rolls that had been cooked in a microwave until lukewarm and flaccid, served with the sauce that comes along with the frozen spring rolls, which had the consistency of rubber cement. If we get a horrible winter storm, we will be trapped in our home with nothing to eat but a box of hummus mix and a nearly petrified baby carrot. Wanna come over for dinner?

Music Meme

I wasn't directly tagged for this, but that's never stopped me before.

First five songs when shuffling the iPod:

"Dig for Fire" (Pixies)
"Shambhala" (Beastie Boys)
"One Sweet World (Live)" Dave Matthews & Tim Reynolds
"Breathing Meditation" Thich Nhat Hanh
"Miss Teen Wordpower" The New Pornographers

More stuff soon.

Another Lame YouTube Video Post

But I can't help it. You'll see what I mean.

I have discovered my winter alternative to running.

Hott.

By "Popular" Demand (sort of)

Warning (a poem by Jenny Joseph)

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple

With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me . . .

Screw that. When I am an old woman I shall wear silver leggings and a matching silver bustier thingy.

But, Banality, you are no Tina Turner.

Duly noted. However, since we're on the topic of thighs, can we discuss the thighs belonging to Beyoncé? Apparently, Ms. Knowles' thighs are a significant source of controversy, with some people believing that she should "cover those things up." SRSLY? If anything, Beyoncé should show her thighs more frequently. She should wear a leotard and boots all the time. Everywhere. You can't argue that it would be worse than those hideous outfits she feels compelled to wear just because her mother designed them. (Did you see the thing she wore on Saturday Night Live this past week? Blech!) Plus, she supposedly wants to play Wonder Woman at some point, so why not get used to the costume now? She lives in California, right? Where it's warm? I think this is a brilliant plan.

Yesterday I had lunch with Anne Fadiman, author of The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down, Ex Libris, and At Large and At Small. I am now her BFF, and she is trying to convince me to write my memoirs.

Oh, all right, that's not true. The truth is I had class right before lunch, so I didn't get to the fancy room with its fancy china in time to get a spot at Anne Fadiman's table. I did butt into a conversation between Ms. Fadiman and the college president to awkwardly introduce myself, and then I spent the rest of the lunch hour at a different table, chatting with my colleagues about yurts and morticians. We also discussed the problem with teaching a first-year seminar on the scholarly examination of some aspect of popular culture, which is that the students most likely to sign up for a course on some aspect of popular culture will be the ones least likely to have an interest in the scholarly examination of anything.

That final conversation, coupled with a late-night, post-research-meeting viewing of the SNL digital short classic, "D*ck in a Box," contributed to the dream I had last night that I was teaching a first-year seminar titled, The Cultural Relevance of Justin Timberlake. My students were angry that I wouldn't allow them to use Wikipedia as a scholarly source. Even in my dreams, I demand academic excellence.

And speaking of the first-year seminar, here is my favorite title of the recent batch of papers I'm grading:

There is No Psychiatrist in the World Like a Puppy Licking Your Face