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Dear Professors

29 Aug

Dear Professors,

I understand that you want us to look over the syllabus before the semester starts. I even understand that you want us to read some things, sometimes, before the semester starts— and look, two very very short stories is a totally acceptable amount of reading to do before class on Monday. 

And I get that you want us to have a hard copy of the syllabus! I do! Even in this technophile world, it’s nice to all sit there and stare at the same thing together on the first day, our little fingers following along as you read the whole thing out loud to us even though we are in the process of earning what might be considered, seen in a certain light, a very very advanced reading degree. We are extremely, totally literate people.

BUT GUYS. What’s this “find the syllabus online and print it out and bring it to class” business? The syllabus is the LAST thing you are responsible for providing for us (books: no, stories: online, each other’s work: we photocopy). Did the department put a ban on FACULTY using the photocopier? 

This is going to be a grim year, folks. When my professors ask us to bring potluck now, I’m going to wonder if the university has slashed their salaries so badly they’re trying to get themselves fed before they go home. 

xoxo,

MM

PS– It’s the first day of my supposedly last year of school ever! WAH re: first day. Summer is cool. I like it. It is mayor of my heartsville. I am totally that graduate student who is like, “But I get so much work done when I don’t have classes!” …I read a lot of books this summer. 

PPS– I say “supposedly last year” because let’s be honest. If I last two years without the academic calendar, we’ll all be shocked. I’m casting about for things to apply for now out of sheer fear of being released into the wild. Would you like to see my GRE scores? Can I get you a letter of recommendation with that muffin? Just please let me print my own syllabus and eat it for dinner.

Dear Doing Touristy Things

4 Aug

Dear Doing Touristy Things,

My family has something against doing tourist things. I haven’t identified what it is, but I offer the following evidence:

a) I’ve been to Hawaii almost every year of my life. Usually for about a ten day stretch. For the first 17 years, we went to Oahu almost every time. I didn’t see Pearl Harbor until I was 16.

b) I went to Paris with my mom. Instead of going up the Eiffel Tower, we took a nap under it.

c) I’ve been to about 4 US National/State Parks and most of those were by accident. Or school field trips. On one such trip I petted a tarantula. An odd amount of our science curriculum was devoted to arachnids.*

d) I don’t know what state the Grand Canyon is in. I keep looking it up and forgetting. Arizona? Utah? Montana? That state between Utah and Montana? (Ok, so this has more to do with my sketchy inability to retain geography.)

e) I’ve never been to Seafair. Well, ok, when I was 22 I went on my sister’s friend’s boat to watch the Blue Angels show. I spent the whole time feeling vaguely like I was going to throw up– there is an insane amount of boat traffic during Seafair– which wasn’t helped by the 3 people who were so hungover they were puking off the side.

f) I had to take myself to see the nation’s Capitol this year. We went once before and my parents swear that we saw the memorials and the reflecting pool and the mall— by saying “No really, I remember it very clearly. We drove by them. But it was too hard to find parking so we didn’t get out of the car.”

Anyway, the first time I can really remember touring was in Rome when I was eleven and the morning after we got off the plane, this very sweet woman named Francesca took us on a tour of the ruins. I hated her on sight. It only got worse as the day went on. She probably had a very slight accent but in my memory she sounds like a trash compactor with a retainer. I had no idea what she was saying, and that b**tch dragged us through the entire city to stare at piles of rocks while traffic whizzed by. Just when I thought we were going to get some relief she started in on the museums.

I was pretty sure that we’d been touring for about fifteen hours at that point, and I distinctly remember lying down on a bench in a museum that claimed to be air-conditioned and feeling my bones melt into a gelatinous heap. I was convinced my parents could not possibly have paid someone to torture us in such a way— although I’m not sure what alternative explanation I thought existed. She clearly hadn’t kidnapped us, and my mom and dad kept talking about how fantastic she was– so maybe I just thought the heat had brainwashed everyone.

Clearly I was the only one responding in a rational manner by wilting dramatically and demanding more gelato. (I stand by this stance. Whenever it’s over 90 degrees the only sensible thing to do is lie on the floor in front of a fan. I don’t care if you’re in Italy. And that faint push of warm air they call air conditioning? Yeah. And they say Mussolini was a bad era. It’s shocking to me that the oils don’t melt right off the canvases.)

Ok, now it sounds like my family doesn’t do tourist things because I’m a whiny pain in the ass. I assure you that isn’t true. I mean, the part about that being why we don’t do tourist things. I can’t really dispute the whiny pain in the ass status after that story. Although I have gotten comparatively better at not dripping gelato on my shirt. Comparatively being the key word.

In other news, Pearl Harbor was a really moving experience.

Hope your summer touring is all sunny-side-up. And free of throw-up.

MM

*Edit: that was Discovery Park. That’s part of the Seattle Parks and Recreation system. Huh.

Dear Packing

16 May

Dear Packing,

Does packing for a long trip make anyone else want to set fire to everything they own and go live in the woods with one pair of jeans and one flannel shirt?

Or, alternatively, buy a whole new wardrobe when you get wherever you’re going if such a thing were economically and ecologically feasible?

No? Just me? Ok. Carry on, then.

Love,

MM

PS– The trip in question is me, going to Seattle, for a month, where apparently it is still winter even though the calendar belies such views. And yes, I plan on packing the sun in my carry-on if God and TSA will let me.

Dear Ambulance

11 May

Dear Ambulance,

It makes me really nervous when you park outside my house.

So maybe next time, when you go get Subway, you could keep that in mind?

Love,

MM

PS. I really want a cookie now. Thanks a lot.

Dear Osama bin Laden on Facebook

2 May

Dear Osama bin Laden on Facebook,

As Mark Twain said, “I’ve never wished a man dead, but I have read some obituaries with great pleasure.”

I loved Obama’s speech— loved that he took credit for the mission and made it clear that it was not only under his watch, but also was completely controlled by him and the result of his good decision-making, loved that he reminded us peace with Parkistan was integral to the success of the mission, loved that he drew firm distinctions between Osama bin Laden and the rest of the Islamic world. I loved the silent, still walk-away down the hallway. It’s about time the Democrats figured out how to talk about their achievements in clear-cut ways with bold statements and dramatic visual rhetoric (nerd alert).

But I don’t particularly like jingoism. Ever. It makes me nervous. I hate chants of “America, fuck yeah!” I always feel like the tar and feathers can’t be far behind.

But I also don’t like this quote from a Salon article that’s all over FB: “When we lose the sadness part — when all we do is happily scream ‘USA! USA! USA!’ at news of yet more killing in a now unending back-and-forth war — it’s a sign we may be inadvertently letting the monsters win.” I mean…anyone else see something spectacularly wrong with using the word “monsters” in the middle of this lesson about compassion?

Anyway. It’s important to acknowledge the significance of completing something we thought was important enough to dedicate the efforts of two presidents and countless soldiers to. I’m just not sure Facebook is meant to be all things at all times, you know?

I do like this friend’s FB post: “Phew, now I can get back to living my life to its fullest, without fear or compromise, head down and charging through the world with my medium sized American cock swinging between my legs!”

….Thanks, Shane, for saying all that needs saying.

So. I’ll see you in two days, Facebook, when you’re back to information about relationship statuses, the weather, sports, and what people are eating. And by the way— can you make a page that’s solely relationship status updates? Because that– that I think we can all get behind.

MM

P.S. Shoutout to the fact that Obama’s special report cut into the Celebrity Apprentice! Oh, The Donald. You’ve had a hard week, haven’t you? Maybe take a vacation. Someplace without internet or telephones. Maybe you should just go stand next to these guys. You just *might* look better in comparison. No promises.

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