Carol
@butdiscourse
Teacher of things. ATL-ish. Politics, history, cycling, and stuff that happened a long time ago in a galaxy far, far way.
School starts on Monday. I'm ready-ish. Aside from making the usual copies, crawling under desks to wrangle cords, and revamping pacing guides, I also finally covered the outlet on the utility cabinet which hasn't worked in the 16 years I've been in the classroom. I think I'm hilarious.
Presenting: A terribly dysfunctional team that would never work in real life!
Also, apparently Tidal will judge your music tastes at the end of every calendar year, like that other place. But since I've only been using it for a month, this is all it has to go on:
Man, let me tell you, I know it's just an automated system that gets all the feedback on the "Why did you cancel your subscription" form, but damn if it didn't feel good to tear something to fucking pieces.
Like, remember that hug between Brasso and Andor in "Rix Road?" The way it's shot is straight out of a Rembrandt-- looks a hell of a lot like "The Prodigal Son," honestly, which also fits for the theme.
And then I had an errand to run. And whennI got back to my desk I found this:
I describe humans. All of them. I ask deeply annoying questions. I tell teenagers to put their phones away at least a dozen times a day and fight endlessly against AI because there is no substitute for reason. I decipher seventeen-year-old boy handwriting.
I'm especially pleased that I get to put out the print of the Rich's Pink Pig that I found at an estate sale this summer:
She's making good progress, though. I got this picture from her last night at 11:30.
To clarify, we'd also made her some of her favorite pumpkin soup and left it in the fridge so she's have something to eat when she got home. Thus the soup nonsequitor from Dad.
And here is my vase. It's signed-- still working on the signature-- and clearly handmade, bases on the imprints of fingers on the inside.
I don't know the maker of the lamp, but it's definitely vintage based on the wiring.