Monthly Archive for June, 2006

open letter to microsoft excel

Dear Microsoft Excel,

I realize you and I don’t know each other that well.  More properly, you don’t know me at all, do you?  I know you don’t, but I have to say, Excel, I think you will love me.  This may be  a bit forward, and I hope you don’t object, but I think I may be your new best friend and/or lover.

What, I’ve never come round before, you say?  I have had you installed on my mac for months, but never have I intentionally opened you? Well, Excel, that may be true.  I have opened you, accidentally, when a wayward student or two sent me a weird file that should have opened in Word, but opened in you instead.  You just weren’t the right man for the job, then, Excel.  I was forced to close you and open the file elsewhere.  I hope you won’t take it too hard.  I know you have your purpose–a purpose I fully plan to exploit starting first thing tomorrow morning.

I am not sure exactly what it is you do, Excel, but it apparently has to do with me whoring myself out to Summer Office Jobs, and if it is Excel they need then it is Excel I will learn and use.  You’re not very glamorous, it’s true, but Excel!  Excel! How famous you are! You feature in every Office Job Advert, and you apparently compose the substance of a Very Important Test I will be taking soon to register with an Office Job Firm. 

Please, Excel, don’t take my lack of attention too seriously.  I plan to devote my day! My week! My summer! to nothing but you.  You, and, apparently, office switchboard phones.  It’s a tough job, and apparently lots of people have to do it.  All the people in this county looking for work outside the construction sector, in fact.  That’s a lot of people, and that’s why I plan to learn you like no one has ever done before.  I will learn you up one side and down the other, inside and out, all intimate-like.  When I am done with you, Excel, you will need a cigarette.  Lube up, Excel; I am coming your way.

Inappropriate Smooches,

AV

year’s-end student round-up

I. Greatest Student Emails

To: Alfina the Vague
From: Student #1
Subject: IMPORTANT

hi this is sally from your class.  i was not able to make it to class today due to reasons.  can you please tell me what i missed. RESPOND ASAP.

— — — — —

To: Alfina the Vague
From: Student #2
Subject: ?
Attachment: [none]

attached is my essay

— — — — —

To: Alfina the Vague
From: Student #3
Subject: PLEASE READ

Hi this is Jane from your class.  I am genuine concerned about passing this class or not.  Please I will do anything to pass can you tell me what my grade will be.  I know I have not turned in my assignments it is due to some stresses I am having and I will have to find the USB wher they are.  Tell me if I will pass.

II. Greatest Student Paper Titles

Not a Blanc Noir at All

Women: Lesser Beings no More

The Truth Behind it All

In Todays’ Society and Culture

Prejudice: I am Tired of It!

III. Greatest Examples of Student Syntax and Logic

"This quote taken from the book shows another example of what I am talking about in the book."

"Interpreting a text is reading too much into it.  No way would a author intend us that."

"On page 242 he even says so."

"In my opinion, as it seems to me, that is what is happening but that is just my opinion and I am not a expert."

IV. Greatest Student Comments in Class

"Well, I just didn’t like it because there was, like, no action.  I mean, there was no guns or shoot-outs and that’s what the audience wants."

"Do you think he uses words again and again like that because he don’t have a good vocabulary?"

"I don’t like those long sentences.  I don’t even know what he’s talking about."

"I don’t know about  you guys, but I think that the character of Sam Fathers might be, like, a father-type figure to Ike.  Like, you know?"

Thank god it is summer.

i’m delegating

Egon_grading
The Dachshund assists me in grading essays. He says, “This paper blows! She so
totally needs to learn what a transition is, and also not to, like,
suck so much. I mean, damn, girl, you just typed out some words,
didn’t you? All words and no ideas. Kids these days.”

BLACKLISTED! neighborhood installment

Since I can’t actually punch every person who annoys me in the neck (I mean, my friends would get tired of bailing me out of the clink, you know?), I have decided to start a semi-regular, recurring-type installment thing (vague!) where I simply list the people who have annoyed me of late. A blacklist, if you will. I have no authority or connections to make this list in any way effective, but I can say with utmost certainty that none of these schlubs will be invited to my next all-night breakdancing party. OH, no.

For the first installment of the list, I have chosen to present to you the annoying figures The Dachshund and I meet on our frequent walks. You may recognize some of these characters, and should you, I humbly ask that you consider their inclusion on this list in any of your interactions. Do not hire these people! Do not lend them change for the payphone! Do not go to bed with them! They have been BLACKLISTED!

The shadowy figure who allows his black poodle to crap beneath a certain fir tree and never cleans it up. This dude is always stealthy, lurking just around the corner, ready to zip off, poodle in tow, as soon as the frizzy beast is done depositing his loose, stank stools at the foot of the tree. I get that he may not always have a doggy bag with him, but clean-up duty is required by the terms of the apartments’ pet policy. That’s not all, though: the particular appearance of his poodle’s poo leads me to harbor vile paranoid fantasies that it is riddled with highly contagious viruses fatal to my Little Dog. The particularly strong poop odor makes the sloppy piles irresistible to the poor puppy. Damn you, shadowy figure! Clean up your stupid poodle’s festering disease-turds! You have been BLACKLISTED!

The nosy, sticky little child who always demands, in hard-to-decipher child language, pettapuppy! pettapuppy! Is the wee sticky one asking me? Shouldn’t he be asking someone like, oh, say, his dad? I mean, surely his parents have instilled in him a deep and abiding fear of strangers and their strange dogs. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to be sticking his little child hand in front of the gaping, beastly maw of every puppy to come down the sidewalk. Does he? Because my dog might well eat him. He does not look especially delicious to me, not being either deep-fried or covered in a blend of five cheeses, but you never know about dogs, do you? My dog seems rather to enjoy eating (or at least chewing on) things like other dogs’ turds, rotten peanut shells, cigarette butts, dead slugs, greasy french-fry containers, and used kleenex. Seen alongside that dubious doggy buffet, the sticky child just might be delicious indeed. Stay away from us, kid; you have been BLACKLISTED!

The crazy lady who got out of her car just to say hello to me. Damn, when this lady appeared I thought it was something out of a French farce. I’m all happily walking down the sidewalk, as is the custom of the times, and she runs up to me all “HELLO I STOPPED JUST TO SAY HELLO TO YOU HELLO HELLO.” It took me a couple of seconds to realize that the white station wagon abandoned some fifteen yards up the street, driver’s-side door still open, was hers. She had stopped, left her car, gotten out, and chased me down just to say hello to me and my irresistibly adorable dog. I know, I know. He is cute. And then she had to tell me all about her dachshund and how he was old and how he has epilepsy and how he used to be this little one time and how his father was a wire-hair and so his coat isn’t as smooth, and then she asked me my dog’s name and ignored me when I said “ee-gone” because those two syllables didn’t seem to mean anything to her, and then she started in on the interrogation: how old was he, how long had I had him, did I get him from a breeder locally? And I had to quietly scoop up the excited puppy and just walk away. Thanks for ruining my walk, you crazy, crazy, insane lady. You have been BLACKLISTED!

The creepy old dude with the knee brace who walks around all slowly, smiling. I understand that maybe he walks around slowly because of his knee injury and maybe he smiles because he is friendly, but let me tell you one thing: there is nothing more like the very definition of creepy than an old dude, walking around slowly, and smiling. (Shudder!) Also, one time he told me “you look strangely like your little dog.” Well, fine. Actually I guess that wasn’t exactly what he said, but it sounded like it. I guess actually what he said was “you look strange without your little dog,” but whatever, creepy dude; you have been BLACKLISTED!

The nutria who lurks beside the bank of the creek. Nutria are the single ugliest, nastiest mammal ever, of all time. They look like a giant rat with bright orange fangs and dorsal nipples. They disgust me. Their skanky creek bed is dangerously close to the sidewalk where I like to walk (it being the custom of the times and all). Stay away from the sidewalk, nutria, you giant rat-thing that is bigger than my dog! You may not be as creepy as the lady who got out of her car just to say hello to me–not by a long shot–but, nonetheless, you have been BLACKLISTED!