A student I finally failed after seven months of trying ( don't ask) is sitting in the cubicle next to me. Because he failed the spring semester, he has to retake it. Because he recognizes that neither of us wants to see each other again, he has wisely sought out a different intstructor with whom to retake the semester. The professor he has sought out is the Mistake.

Because he missed the first week and a half of classes ( hoping that I could be bullied into changing the "F" that I finally put down), he is discussing with the Mistake the requirements of her course. They are laughing and chatting in an easy way. A way that makes me realize that deep down what I really want is for this student to fail again. On one level I want it because it would confirm that what went wrong the first time was not me BUT HIM. But the feeling of glee that is aroused by the idea of him failing again can not be accounted for in this manner. And it frightens me.

I suspect that if I had just been allowed to fail him the first time without the seven months of "Please just give him a (circle one second third fourth fifth sixth seventh) chance...You don't know what it's like to have his problems" from the department, I would be able to blithely tolerate his presence. As it is, haggling with him for several months for work that never appeared and somehow got blamed on MY demeanor, I want him to fail and fail hard. I want to be there with my camera when he receives the grades so I can forever preserve the look of horror on his face. And I want to make it my screensaver. I want it on a t-shirt so I can wear it to class and say "THIS was a former student. You don't want this to happen to you SO DO YOUR FREAKIN' READING."

And I know deep down inside it's wrong and it's bad and I should want him to learn and progress and grow and develop.

But somehow I just can't.

Hot for Teacher II

Last night considering that the radiator in my apartment isn't working properly, I sought heated refuge in my local Irish bar, F's. I had my work with me, and I set up camp at the bar. A young guy, he claimed to be 21, but looked closer to 18, saw me writing and began to ask me questions about what I was working on. Finally the question came, "So are you a teacher?"

Bunni: Well actually I'm a professor.

Jailbait: That is so hot. I bet your students are all over you. I mean I was a student not so long ago, and if I had you as a teacher, oh man.

Bunni: Please, I'd rather not think that my students think about me that way.

Jailbait: But how can they not? I mean, you're hot to begin with and that you're a teacher, oh my g-d, that makes it even more erotic.

Bunni: Oh lord.

Jailbait: So what are you working on?

Bunni: Well, I am preparing a text for tomorrow. And I'm also preparing a pop quiz in case they haven't done the reading.

Jailbait: A pop quiz? Are you one of those really harsh teachers?

Bunni: Well not REALLY harsh-I'm all about quid pro quo. If they make me miserable, I'll make them more miserable.

Jailbait: I can't tell you how much that turns me on.

Bunni: Please don't.

Jailbait: Alright, but I have to say there is something really sexy about a smart woman in control.

Bunni: You know, I know a professional dominatrix. It sounds to me like you two would get along well together.


How to Woo a Teacher: Mystery Guest Sign In Please

I was preparing a big speech to give my students because I am overwhelmingly disappointed in them, and I come to work and there sitting in my box are two Walt Whitman poems. Whoever left them did not simply copy them from the book, but typed the poems into microsoft word, selected a font, and printed them up. Both poems are from Leaves of Grass ( somewhat tarnished by the fact that Clinton gave a copy to Monica). The poems were carefully selected ( one is "To a Stranger" and the other is "Are You the New person, drawn toard Me?") and almost as arousing as a literate person attempting to woo me is the mystery of who it is.

But what is sad, is that what pleases me most is to know that somebody who has set foot on this floor knows who the hell Whitman is.

"But enough about me. I want to know about you. Like what did you think of me in the first act?
-Anne Bancroft talking to her soon to be lover Tim Matheson in the Mel Brooks remake of Jack Benny's film "To Be or Not To Be"

The Academy Award Nominations for this year are out and I've seen surprisingly few of them. Some of the nominations are surprising to me (that ANYTHING from Something's Gotta Give got nominated is beyond me), but most are fairly predictable.

Despite the fact that I have seen pathetically few of the films nominated, I will still be watching the Academy Awards this year, as I do every year. When I was young, I loved the awards, but now it something of a depressing evening. Most of my friends eschew the Academy Awards nevermind an awards party like we used to have back in the day when I was in TISCH. Occassionally there are moments that bring back to me what I loved most about the awards, Benini talking about making love to everyone in the firmament, Cuba Gooding Jr. jumping up and down when they tried to cut him off, Saradon crying after she FINALLY got her Oscar. But those moments are few these days. Still there is something about it, watching and hoping to catch one of those few moments when an actor is, however fleetingly, honestly and utterly himself.

But I don't even like it

What Classic Movie Are You?

courtesy of Where is your mind?

Sexual Etiquette

1. Don't drop your used condoms on the floor...or place them on the windowsill...or put them ANYWHERE really BUT the garbage-in college my roommate's boyfriend used to leave his condoms on the windowsill to petrify in the sun-I am still scarred by the experience

2. If you have to ask if I came, the answer is no.

3. If I say no to something the first time, I am not going to say yes after you harass me with the same question fifteen times like some kid in a supermarket trying to get his mom to buy two types of sugar bomb cereal. In fact, every time you ask me to do this thing, I will remove an item off the list of things I was willing to do with you.

4. Do not jump up immediately after sex. Much like the courtesy bumper between a law and order episode and a commercial, sex, even the very worst, deserves at least a moment of considered silence before making an escape.

5. Leaving marks is ok, but do it on places easy to cover. A giant hickey on the end of my nose is not appreciated.

6. You should not consider watching your dog drink out of the toilet a tutorial on how to perform oral sex.

7. You don't like teeth near your privates? Neither do I.

When I originally wrote this post I had three other rules, but then the post mysteriously disappeared unsaved and now I can't remember what those other three are. Maybe you all can help me out? What say you to the things a person absolutely should NEVER do in bed?

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