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the state of me
In my CKR-induced daze last night I forgot to mention the best part of the evening, which was that ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stars_like_dust was in town being teacherly and we got to go out for dinner at my favourite Chinese place, which was lovely. And it is testament to the terrifyingly pervasive nature of those bloody cat macros that my fingers were poised over the keyboard and about to type I HAZ A CLAIRZA!! before sanity and grammar restored themselves.
Speaking of grammar, I had an utterly surreal visit to my old high school this morning, to talk to the English HOD about one of my tutoring students. She was lovely and loaded me down with helpful books, and then I ran into one of my favourite English teachers of all time, the one I had for Origins Of English and Elizabethan & Jacobean Drama in Yr 12. The one who let me do a fifteen-minute oral on the new vocabulary of fanfic and fandom (Me: "So by writing HAMLET/HORATIO, you are implying...") and who let me write glorified fanfic for a creative assignment, and then gave me full marks for both. Anyway, this is her last semester! She told me that she intends to become one of those irritating old ladies who owns a single share in a company and then turns up at the AGM to ask awkward questions. HAH.
Sometimes I really miss English. But this tutoring job is a great excuse to dig out The Merchant of Venice, which I haven't looked at since Yr 9.
Aaand now I'm off to print some articles on tick paralysis, get ready for a lecture on the vascular system, and attempt to restrain myself from crushing this computer's mouse beneath my fist in a fit of annoyance. THE SCROLL WHEEL. IT SQUEAKS. I am not in the mood to appreciate the irony inherent in a squeaking mouse, I just want some peace and quiet, thank you.
stars_like_dust was in town being teacherly and we got to go out for dinner at my favourite Chinese place, which was lovely. And it is testament to the terrifyingly pervasive nature of those bloody cat macros that my fingers were poised over the keyboard and about to type I HAZ A CLAIRZA!! before sanity and grammar restored themselves.Speaking of grammar, I had an utterly surreal visit to my old high school this morning, to talk to the English HOD about one of my tutoring students. She was lovely and loaded me down with helpful books, and then I ran into one of my favourite English teachers of all time, the one I had for Origins Of English and Elizabethan & Jacobean Drama in Yr 12. The one who let me do a fifteen-minute oral on the new vocabulary of fanfic and fandom (Me: "So by writing HAMLET/HORATIO, you are implying...") and who let me write glorified fanfic for a creative assignment, and then gave me full marks for both. Anyway, this is her last semester! She told me that she intends to become one of those irritating old ladies who owns a single share in a company and then turns up at the AGM to ask awkward questions. HAH.
Sometimes I really miss English. But this tutoring job is a great excuse to dig out The Merchant of Venice, which I haven't looked at since Yr 9.
Aaand now I'm off to print some articles on tick paralysis, get ready for a lecture on the vascular system, and attempt to restrain myself from crushing this computer's mouse beneath my fist in a fit of annoyance. THE SCROLL WHEEL. IT SQUEAKS. I am not in the mood to appreciate the irony inherent in a squeaking mouse, I just want some peace and quiet, thank you.