I want to take a sick day tomorrow. I really really need to take a sick day tomorrow. I caught a monster of a cold, and I really need to stay in bed, drink hot liquids, and get better.
Every time when I try to take a sick day, though, it’s always “well, let me run this little errand and fire off a couple of emails and do a bunch of things for work and then I’ll be ready to stay in bed.” And then the day is over and I was too busy even to take some cold medicine.
I’m trying to promise myself not to do this tomorrow.
I can just imagine what it would look like if students adopted the media-approved excuses for ignorance.
“The Spanish Civil War started in 1492! In Chile! And Australia won!”
“Well, I might not be factually right about every detail, professor, but I’m morally right. Will I get credit for this assignment? Don’t you care about morality? Or would you rather nitpick these insignificant little factual inaccuracies? Besides, the world will end before the end of the semester, so why do you want me to care about something so unimportant in the face of the impending apocalypse as the Spanish Civil War?”
AOC just announced that the world “will like end in 12 years. Like?”
She’s a cartoon character. But at least she’s not blonde, so one can go, “Hah! There are brunettes who are a lot dumber than blondes! Let’s roll out the brunette jokes now!”
It bugs me, though, that people excuse her Valley Girl act as stemming from her youth. My students are a decade younger, and I’ve never seen anybody among them so. . . how do I put it. . . unspoiled by intellect. I watch her for two minutes and feel a deep need to go give hugs to my students for not being like this.
It’s so sad she can’t run for president now. Imagine her debating Trump on stage. It would be a total “who’s on first, circa 2020.”
“Mommy, I want to watch cartoons.”
“Here, honey, sit next to mommy and watch the presidential debate. See all the funny characters?”
In 2005, Mexico was producing 8 metric tons of heroin per year. A ton is 2,205 lbs.
By 2009, the amount grew to 50 metric tons per year. That’s 110,250 lbs per year. We all know where all this heroin went. By 2011, the number of tons of heroin produced per year climbed to triple digits. So it’s from single to triple digits within 6 years. Mexico easily surpassed the entire Golden Triangle in the production of heroin in these years and now is exceeded only by Afghanistan.
But who knows what happened since 2005 to increase the production so dramatically? Obviously the demand grew but not in this insane way. The demand was fed by production with cartels using aggressive marketing techniques to hook more users.
I know the answer but I want to have a discussion.
At least 20 thousand Central Americans every year become victims of kidnapping, extortion, torture, rape, and murder in Mexico as they try to reach the US border. As drug wars in Mexico are getting worse, these numbers grow every year.
But it’s super important to preserve the attachment of asylum claims to “ports of entry” and keep dangling the hope of illegal entry because. . . I don’t know why. Probably because we are so humane and care so bloody much.
I don’t even know what to say:
The conversation spun from rifts in the leadership of the Women’s March to the war in Yemen to how one woman at the bar had to take the day off after Ocasio-Cortez was elected because she had been overcome with emotion.
It’s not even important if she did or didn’t take a day off. What’s worrisome is that she thinks it’s perfectly ok to pose as such a mega snowflake to others.
And yeah, what a victory for feminism. “I can’t work because I’m too emotional over something I saw on teevee.”
I considered doing the whole Marie Kondo thing but it’s useless. “Throw away everything that doesn’t give you joy”?
I grew up in the USSR. We had shortages of shoe laces. And food. And clothes. And toilet paper. And books. And scrunchies. Actually, scrunchies didn’t exist at all.
Everything gives me joy! You should have seen me when I bought a toilet paper roll stand. I was literally going nuts with joy. It was years ago, and I still get a warm and fuzzy feeling about the stand every day. Marie Kondo can’t help me. It will take a couple more generations for us to get ready to be Mariekondoed.
In the photo is my sparkly scrunchie collection. And yes, it gives me joy.