Bam!

Okay, I'm back! The Blogholiday is over! I think. Anyway, here's the news.

First, I got harassed by a student who was doing poorly my class. Among other things, he wrote this little gem on his final:

Roses are red
Violets are blue
You're a horrible mean teacher who smells like poo-poo

Pretty mature for a senior, huh? I thought so. In fact, I thought some of the things he wrote on his final were so choice that I decided should pass them on to my Department Chair. She was none too amused. We'll see how that turns out.

Also, I moved offices. I didn't want to, but sometimes you just have to be a good sport. Now I'm in an older building. I and two others (one of whom was Tom) got moved. We have private offices. We are also privvy to the knowledge that several others will have to move at summertime, and boo-hoo for them, they'll be moving into shared offices. Yikes. So in a way, we got lucky. It doesn't look like that right now, to the other lower-ranking faculty, but really--we got lucky. They'll find out at summertime.

There is a good thing about this move; it's to a building with private faculty restrooms. So you can go in there, lock the door, and be all alone in there. And, you know, not to be graphic or anything, but a private bathroom is always better than a stall, especially if you're like me and you hate to conduct any substantial business in a bathroom stall. So now, I can stay at work for, oh, I don't know, 15 hours without having to worry about needing to conduct business in a stall. Whew. Ahem. Moving on.

My surgery scars are healing. They're still pretty purple and ugly, but I can barely remember what my body used to look like pre-surgery. And the other neato thing? The rack has made me so much less self-conscious about my body that I've been gaining weight. I know weight gain is not something to be lauded, but thinking about your weight shouldn't rule your life, either. So I've gained up to a big 8/small 10 which is larger than I ever believed I'd be in my life, but I'm still under 130 and I'm happy, dangit, so I'm not going to sweat it. Until I hit 12. I don't think I should let myself go up to 12. I mean, just last year at this time I was a 6, so with that in mind, 12 is too much for me. It's double.

Oh, yeah, I'm writing a book. Yeah, I know, I'm always "writing a book", getting a few pages in, and then forgetting about it. But I'm trying again. This time I have 28 double-spaced pages and I'm going to try for twice that by Christmas. We'll see what happens.

I've also learned to do photo touch-up with PhotoShop. It's really easy once you read a well-written article on how to do it. Pretty cool. If you want, send me a really hideous picture of yourself and I'll try to fix it. I'm getting tired of fixing pictures of myself. I'm really tired of looking at my own zits, wrinkles, and nose hairs. I'd like to see yours!

Love you guys. Sorry I've been a hermit.