My own sunny beach.
I make margaritas
Then wake up in pain.
My friends are finished
But I have class tomorrow.
They can kiss my ass.
The term stretches on
And on and on forever.
My brain is melting.
I make margaritas
Then wake up in pain.
My friends are finished
But I have class tomorrow.
They can kiss my ass.
The term stretches on
And on and on forever.
My brain is melting.
9 comments:
September leisure.
Horrible class dies in March.
How I miss quarters.
Union, then Dartmouth
then UC San Diego.
Twenty-nine quarters.
Enjoy August and September!
I've been rethinking what the end of term feels like. I think it's like being backed over by a train. You don't get to see the light at the end of the tunnel until you've been under all the wheels.
AP, you could get that published. No, really. Send it to the Chronicle. They HAVE to publish it. It's a helluva lot more exciting and real than much of the junk they print.
And Sterna, your simile is PERFECT for what happens to us at the end of the quarter/semester.
Yes - great thread. I used to be against quarters - studied on them throughout most of undergraduate and graduate school, taught on them a lot, including as a professor, etc.
I thought at the time that they were too packed: you can't miss a beat, ever, and you can't really get into a subject. And they start so early after Christmas. And going through startup and finals three times instead of two is more work in some ways.
However, I currently feel that semesters are too long. And I have always missed that August and September leisure, the fact that when fall starts it really is fall, the coziness of the winter quarter where you have all your hardest courses but know it will end at the equinox, when you'll have fun courses for spring.
OK I have convinced myself. Quarters! Quarters!
Don't despair, A.P.!
Summer comes softly anon --
I'll buy you some scotch.
Warm fragrant breezes
The red setting sun beckons
Pass a cold 'rita.
I travel eastward.
How I love single malt scotch.
Cranky promised me.
I like the sun too.
In case you didn't notice,
I made it to class.
If you worked harder,
You wouldn't be begging
For a better grade.
If you knew how much
Your opinion means to me
Your head would explode.
closely she leaned in
all hair, eyes, skin, so young (sigh)
breathless, a tear, real?
I would do anything
(her long legs, oh) for an A
Would you, said I, study?
Be nice, first attempt by a history prof. And yes, I had a "I'll do anything to pass this class" comment once. I emphasized study habits and regular attendance and she never came back to class.
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