Today in class I barely managed to deliver 20% of the material I had planned. Students were participating so eagerly that every time I turned around from the blackboard, there was a forest of raised hands.

It’s a dream come true for a literature prof in a foreign language. It’s all in Spanish, by the way, and the readings are serious literature.

I’m bubbling over with delight. Only a teacher knows what a teaching high feels like. It’s intense.

This is a fascinating story about who the famous “COVID whistleblower” really is.

It is unfortunately not even shocking any more that a stalker and sexual harasser would be lionized because she helps to make such ridiculous political point.

Yes, it’s juvenile but I found this on FB and I feel like doing something cheesy.

As Valentine’s Day approaches, share your story

Where you met: We met at a Starbucks in New Haven. N was a great fan of my online writing and wanted to meet his favorite online author. What’s really funny is that he doesn’t read my blog, and I’m grateful for that.

First date: our first date was actually our last date. The rest of the relationship was us living together in a variety of states and housing situations.

Age difference: I’m two weeks older. His birthday was actually my due date. But I just had to get there first.

Who was interested first: N liked my texts before I knew he existed. He reads all my article and books. I try to read his but I don’t understand them.

Who is taller: He’s a lot taller.

Who said I love you first: I have no idea. I don’t think it mattered. I knew from the first second that he was it for me.

Worst temper: I have a temper but I don’t bring it home. When House, MD came out, everybody I knew reached out to say there’s a new TV show about me and I need to watch it. We watched it, and N said he had no idea why anybody would say House is me when I’m so sweet and gentle.

Most sensitive: Him. He’s so sensitive, he never watched SVU with me. It gives him nightmares.

Loudest: me, of course. But it’s not because I yell. I never yell unless somebody throws a hundred-pound mirror on my head (true story). I have a teacher’s voice that comes out super loud if I forget to control it. I also have a hearing problem caused by childhood ear infections so I don’t notice how loud I am.

Most stubborn: Totally him. People see how quiet and gentle he is and how loud and overwhelming I am and assume he’s a total rollover. But it couldn’t be farther from the truth. The guy has balls of tungsten. I can’t make him do absolutely anything. I wouldn’t be able to live with anybody else because I’d just break him.

Falls asleep first: everybody falls asleep before me. I have gigantic sleep issues.

Better driver: N has 20 years of driving experience on me, and he’s the person who taught me to drive, so obviously him.

Most competitive: I am but we don’t compete with each other.

Best cook: we all know the answer.

I discovered this “poet” (and actually a brilliant comedian) Amanda Gorman today. Obviously, I didn’t watch the Superbowl but somebody posted her performance on Twitter, and it’s extremely funny.

Do look her up. She’s a perfect illustration for our discussion of postmodernism. It’s all completely meaningless but you can’t deny that it’s funny. Whether it’s meant to be funny is unimportant. Is anything ever meant to be anything? What’s more important intention or perception? Or is the only point of existence to have a good laugh? These are very postmodern questions.

It’s like Seinfeld. It was truly a show about nothing but everybody watched. The characters constantly discussed how it was a show about nothing. And that was the joke.

Gorman and Seinfeld had the same audience, too. It’s kind of heart-warming to see that nothing changed in 30 years.

As for the Superbowl, I hope your team won. 🥳🎊🎉🏈🔴