bugger all this colonialism, anyway
Thursday, 18 May 2006 11:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
freckles_and_doubtI'm sure the rain would have done nice things for my mushroom city, except in my absence yesterday the gardener pursued a scorched earth policy, levelling the whole outcrop. The garden is filled with notional ousted gnomes, wailing , shaking tiny fists and pushing their lives in hand barrows to refuges under handy leaves. I can find only a tiny sprouting of mushroom hovels in one corner, clearly a shantytown of stubborn gnomic squatters. Hopefully they'll spread over the next week. More Zimbabwe flashbacks. Sigh.
The dinner-invitation arms race with jo&stv is escalating again - we were there last night with my Friendly Psychologist, eating, as usual, too much, and drinking ditto. I feel impelled to record for posterity my last phone conversation with stv, which started with a cheery, "Hi, Docinatrix! 'Tis the Stevinator!" I hasten to add that our relationship is actually not nearly as dodgy as this form of salutation might suggest.
The usual result of yesterday's student-ejection has manifested, viz. (1) a perfect record in this morning's tut, with every single student defiantly clutching a copy of The Tempest and clearly daring me to comment, and (2) the sad, sweet, apologetic e-mail from one of said students registering guilt and sorrow about the original default. There's always one. Every time I do this, I get one apology. I think it's some kind of cosmic tokenism.
The dinner-invitation arms race with jo&stv is escalating again - we were there last night with my Friendly Psychologist, eating, as usual, too much, and drinking ditto. I feel impelled to record for posterity my last phone conversation with stv, which started with a cheery, "Hi, Docinatrix! 'Tis the Stevinator!" I hasten to add that our relationship is actually not nearly as dodgy as this form of salutation might suggest.
The usual result of yesterday's student-ejection has manifested, viz. (1) a perfect record in this morning's tut, with every single student defiantly clutching a copy of The Tempest and clearly daring me to comment, and (2) the sad, sweet, apologetic e-mail from one of said students registering guilt and sorrow about the original default. There's always one. Every time I do this, I get one apology. I think it's some kind of cosmic tokenism.
