You know the jokes that go around about weather in the Midwest? They're not jokes, y'all; the weatherman just said there's going to be a coldfront slithering its nasty, scaly way through tomorrow afternoon, taking the temp down from 60-ish to 40-something. Talk about a buzzkill, man. And here, I just broke out the short-sleeved PDP (as in Poi Dog Pondering, one of the best-ever live bands I've seen) t-shirt to sleep in. Booooooooooo.
So I covered this event tonight where a bunch of people had bestowed upon them lifetime achievement awards for working toward a better NWI, and I ran into a former professor of mine. A lovely woman -- certainly one of the sharpest dressed I've ever encountered in academia -- and a tough, but fair, professor. And tough, but I mentioned that already. When I first noticed her, I tried to get her attention, but she didn't see me. So then later, I was holding court with one of our photographers and this dude I know, laughing about how I just called Dude by the wrong name, she walks up and was all happy to see me, as I was her. I introduced her by telling my cohorts that I was one of her worst students, which truth be told, I absolutely was. I mean, my college career? Pretty much a waste of the money my parents didn't have, except for the newspaper experience, which took place out of the classroom. Attention deficit sucks sometimes, but I digress. Anyway, she says, "Oh no, you were one of my best students. I mean, look at what you've made of yourself!"
My first thought to that was, "Sure, if you call a free-lancer who doesn't have her own health insurance and has to scrape up rent each month most of the time and who's packed on an extra 50 pounds in the past 2-1/2 years
making something of yourself. I don't know that
I necessarily would, but ..."
But then as I was thinking about it as I came home, I kinda thought yeah, I what I do does look kinda cool. And I reveled in that. But not after turning in a disjointed piece-of-shit story.
Oh, whatEVER.