Hate is not a prison

First class, 9:00 am, student #1: "Do you have a spare pen I can borrow?" It's the first class on the first day and he's already lost his pen. And I don't know why he borrowed it because he didn't write anything down.

Mein Gott, and the inanity that I hear every day on every cell phone on every patch of space around campus ... I think I heard the word "like" about 423 times, but I think there were some that I missed when I was trying to drown it out with the pink pod. "Like, I'm sure, she, like, totally bought it at, like, Target." <--- actual quote, by the way. It's like, being, like, back in, like, the 7th grade. Other top moments: "One of my first assignments is to ask my students to write a short essay describing their high school classes." fah what? WE'RE NOT ALL KIDS!!!!! "Like, this is, like my notebook from last year. These doodles are from that English class, remember? That's where I drew your face. Yeah, like, we learned so much in that class, huh." Not only that, but I've nearly been hit 4 times while riding my bike. Twice from a-holes turning right and not looking, 1 who ran a stop sign, and 1 who stopped at the stop sign and then decided to go as I was crossing the intersection -- she was looking right at me and maybe trying to figure out if she could get out there ahead, but not sure, but thinking I'd stop because she's a car and could do more damage, regardless of the fact that she had a stop sign and I didn't. Three were on cell phones. All were under the age of 30.

I don't want to be a cranky old woman. I don't. I want to be a normal old woman, but I find that concepts of normality are apparently exclusive and specialized, and every second of every day I'm reminded that I don't fit into this society.

Cah, it really is like being in 7th grade again!