The net comes and goes today. Mike is still in bed with a wrenched neck. (12 hours and counting, except for those 10 minutes he spent trying to get Snorri to eat tofu off my belly. Or maybe it's Snorre. I guess we'll know which whenever he's properly introduced.)
Paris is very, very far away from here, and never more so than when I'm watching Showtime run a 30-second trailer for Sleeping with the Enemy, which will be on ALL month. Yes, the movie with Julia Roberts. From 1991. All month.
To: Ms. D. Goddard, 43 Dale Avenue, Hassocks, West Sussex
Postmark: 28 June 1987 (when your top movie options would've been Beverly Hills Cop II, The Untouchables, and The Witches of Eastwick)
"Had a great time write more in a letter MAYBE. You know how it is with me. Love, Ly."
Does Miss D. know? Probably all too well. Perhaps this card was introduced as Exhibit K on the therapist's couch the next week.
This card would've been a great journal topic for students. (The original purpose of all these cards, right?) Consider the following appearing on the board for tomorrow's bellwork:
- "How is it with Ly? Where will this lead?"
- "Is Ly male or female? Explain."
- "Why does Ly capitalize 'MAYBE'? Is she thinking specifically of how it is with Miss D. when she does that?"
- "What do you think is the origin of the name 'Hassocks'? Was it originally a hamlet with a population of people who were proud of their footwear?"
The problem with such prompts is manifold, though:
- A prompt with two questions, are you nuts? Everyone knows the second question is invisible. (See also: "Do we have to do the back, too?")
- Literal minds abound. "Miss, how should I know if Ly is male or female? How should I know where the town's name came from? I'm not doing this. No, forget it."
- Any opportunity to go gangsta cannot be passed up. "Ly's a PLAYA! YEAH!" (High fives all around.) "MAYBE he'll write her! MAYBE!" (Jump up and run a lap around the desks.)
Ugh, it's another one of those nights where all I do is grind the same axes. (I stop typing here to watch the "jojoba" scene from Proof and laugh, though. However, I don't know if I can like this movie. I feel like I have to ration my mopey Gwyneths. Sliding Doors? Sylvia? The Royal Tenenbaums? Yes. Duets? Bounce? No.)
For what it's worth, according to our controversial global professor: "its name is believed to derive from the tufts of grass found in the surrounding fields."
Okay. I'm going to go shake this crappy attitude. I need an art project for tomorrow that involves Greek roots. Or, maybe one hell of a long slideshow with many, many pretty and funny photos. Option one means going out, but out is also where the chocolate lives. Option two means making something that will take hours and can only be used once (this year).
Either way, I think the kids just need something new and shiny and also, of course, useful, and I need for them to be... I need a single, one-syllable word for "speechless, bombarded, not overwhelmed, and surprised when the bell rings."
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