Hello Stranger

I know. I know. You probably forgot about me, and that's fair. I haven't called and it was unruly (sp?) of me. But I have been busy panicking.

It's the summer and while old Mallory would have been prepping for summer camp season (a moment of silence for my first summer not working with sweaty, smelly, kids for the first time in 5 years), the new graduate school Mallory is taking classes, and subbing (a moment of silence for my new job of working with sweaty, smelly, students). Only one of my classes is face-to-face and it meets for a dogged 3.5 hours, twice a week. I know. The class is both an undergraduate and graduate class, the grad students have to stay for an extra half hour and make a 10 minute presentation. I have the opportunity to take a look at the practices of undergraduate students which has been great. I would like to share some with you.

-The in-class texter: Puhlease. I know you are rotating between texting your boyfriend and playing the stirring game of Tetris on your super-tricked out cellphone. I am assuming that you changed your seat because you wanted to get the optimal angle for text-hiding, yet appear as though you are paying attention, congrats, it's probably done wonders. Also, vibrations aren't silent. Everytime your bf/gf/df? feels like they want you to have the latest breakdown of the relationship, it sounds like a wind-up toy is being released in your pants. Don't act surprised, you knew it was going happen.

-The oral responder: College is what you make of it, I give you that; but is it neccesary to give a verbal response to every rhetorical question posed? So the teachers asks the class if we would like to watch a clip of an opera. You take this as your cue to cry out, "Yes, Yes I would." Great. I am glad, now let's stop and ask THE REST OF THE CLASS. Also, you don't need to "uhuh" and "MMMMM" everytime you think something said is cool. You can just nod your head. It's the same goddamn thing.

-The Cliche-Claimer: This is my favorite. And there are quite a bit of these in my class. They will add to the discourse of class with statements that are general cliches that have been uttered by everyone. In studying the Odyssey one of these said "It's like my theory of travel: It's not the destination, it's how you get there." You are right, I think that this was first stated in AN AMERICAN EXPRESS COMMERICAL. Or hows about "It reminds me of the social theory that women who sleep with many people are sluts, but men are not." Thanks a lot, high school. Seriously.


So that's what it's like so far. I am sure I will have further stories, some about subbing too, a never-ending job of fun.

Observations

Recently I have had some encounters with the people of Albany and their license plates. I understand the appeal of vanity plates. My own grandfather has one. On a side note, if you see IdaAl 9 chugging down the road, say hello. I think it's become a bit overkill, however. These are the plates that I have recently scene:

-IBODADDY--> perhaps, "I be your daddy?" either a stirring confession from one man to his long lost son/or daughter or some guy who never got over the Whose Your Daddy era of jokes.

-MITUL--> someone who was unable to pronounce the name Mitchell maybe.


and then I spotted the ultimate vanity plate as I was walking through the parking lot at school.

-TMYPCKLS--> There is only one solution to this one. Tommy Pickels. of Rugrats fame someone was a diehard fan. So much so that they needed to make sure that everyone knew. How great.


I will update this as I see them! If you see them, let me know. I will add them.

The end of western civilization

Happy New Year Everyone.

It's been a bit since I have updated. My apologies. It's unfair that you look me up and then don't see an update. Which I know you are doing. EVERYDAY.

Currently, I am at home in Central New York for the break. It's been a little boring here, so far from the hustle and bustle that occurs everyday on the streets of Albany. In my head it's a lot like Bjork's "Oh So Quiet" video. Without the flying.

Being home has allowed me to do some different things. First, I can cook dinner for my family. Secondly I can get the best score on SSX World Tour. The last and subject of todays discussion: watch the new generation of children's television.
Now I am no stranger to the programming between 9 and 2 on weekdays. On sick days, I often got a lot more enjoyment out of watching Blues Clues and the Wiggles than the usual talk shows that were on the major networks, with the exception of America's Next Top Model Marathon. That shit is tiiiiight. As a kid I watched the usual. Muppet Babies, Fraggle Rock, Rugrats (apparently a lot of baby-based cartoons). These were unusual characters for the time and I enjoyed them.

Now I have seen this generations Gummi Bears and, ladies and gentleman, it is the apocolypse. It's called "Yo Gabba Gabba". The gibberish in the title says it all. The opening sequence has a man with a yellow jumpsuit and green wig on. He creeps across an all white screen, which is creepy and weird. He then opens a breifcase and puts 4 characters into a little diorama. These aren't just any characters they are horrific. One is a robot. A ROBOT. The next is a tall furry thing. Then there is a short furry thing with long arms and lastly a multiple armed thing. (Vishnu much?) I didn't watch much of it, because it made me afraid for my life. FOR REAL. If you want to, it's on Nickelodeon at 11:30. I would watch it on mute, because they maybe transmitting messages during the children's dance sequences. Where kids are just dancing. DANCING.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Good Luck