So I aided in giving an interview to our school’s president this afternoon on behalf of the Thorn. I’ve been working on this tribute to Dr. H, but had yet to actually meet the man. Bob, Brandon (the Opinions Ed. of the paper), and I went to his house with film equipment and taped about an hour and a half of interview on everything from his fight to bring coeducation to Rose (articles that me and another writer are working on) to things students indicated they wanted to know in a survey we sent around. Such as whether he wears boxers or briefs. Ugh.
At any rate, Dr. H is an interesting guy. Very… sharp. I was the only one of the three of us we hadn’t met, and he very clearly (but not in a dirty manner) sized me up the entire time I was there. Every time I turned around, his eyes were on me, measuring my reactions, my competence, my comfort level, everything. It’s very easy to underestimate him–he’s elderly, suffered a stroke, talks softly, and has a “sweet old man” persona that has thoroughly fooled Bridget, and, to some extent, Bob. But he watches. I hate that type of scrutiny, so I’m very aware of when I’m being subjected to it. Which is damned hypocritical of me, since I totally love to give that type of scrutiny. I should get over that–I’m aware enough of my own body language and (less so) speech patterns to be able to hold my own against that type of watchfulness, and there was no need to let him think I was some hyper-shy, soft-spoken and subservient computer science geek.
As we were leaving, Dr. H pulled a classic move of his as asked if Bob and I were going to dinner before we went to work tonight. Bob’s a doofus for not catching on to where this was going, but I let him shrug it off and answer it as though it were a casual request. He finally got direct and asked if we were dating, but made it friendly by joking that maybe this was what Bob thought of as a date. Tee hee, uh, no. Dr. H is always trying to hook students up, apparently.
Continue reading Meeting the Prez
I’m not a big fan of quizzes and the like, but I thought this one was cute, particularly the “we are vicicously beating those responsible for your insecurity” bit. (Quiz found via Hannah.)
Continue reading Tres cute.
See the end for added question sets.
1.) What would it take to get you to hop on one foot and pat your head and rub your tummy?
It would probably take more alcohol than I would be willing to consume. Since I don’t drink at all, I can’t give you a more exact figure than that. Maybe a few whiffs of that permanent marker could do it, though.
2.) So, where would you (and I want the truth) like to have the Thorn banquet?
Continue reading And then there were a couple of answers…
It’s been another long week, but it’s over, and the less said on it, the better. Except for the fact that Mae is sick and didn’t get the Sophomore Advisor spot, which means she’s feeling miserable and second-guessing herself left and right. She’s also avoiding me, because I threatened to straight-jacket her ass into a hospital if she’s still sick today. Or to call her mother. I’m just trying to pass chemistry, understand Calculus, run my three pages of the newspaper, and get a little sleep–and in that order, it seems.
Mae and I didn’t go to the formal last night. Her stomach virus was still hitting her full force, and I was just tired and turning my frustrations with the newspaper around and around in my head, mentally trying different solutions and ultimately rejecting them. I made sure she was in bed with phone numbers for my cell and the Thorn office, then headed down to the Thorn office to do chemistry and brainstorm ways to fix my current dilemma with the newspaper.
I was woken up this morning by my mother calling me. This was good, since it was 08:30, and I’d wanted to get up at 05:00. Few hours difference there. She expressed worry over my mental state, but who the hell sounds any kind of decent right out of bed? Morning breath, full bladder, hunger, fatigue, and worry over the rapidly disappearing weekend hours do not make for good morning chatter. I love her anyway, though, because she and the Old Man sent money. (Yeah, yeah, I know I complain when they send money normally, but we’re talking “bank accounts about to be suspended” kind of broke here, lately.)
Continue reading A bland update on a bland weekend.
This “Three Questions” bit that’s been going around is interesting. I’m not sure how much response I’ll get, but I’ll open it here. Three questions, anything you want. I reserve the right to not answer if the question could get me or someone else in a world of hurt or trouble, but other than that, it’s all fair game. Whatever you want to know.
And don’t be afeared to stick your name on the comments. I don’t bite.
Continue reading So I’m probably the caboose of this train, but…