The very idea of texting your mother…
tweet thisFiled under: Deep South, education, Everyday, language, life, writing
You tell me if you get this: a student gets up to leave at the end of this morning's class, and casually turns back to me and says, “Well teetle, I guess! Have a good weekend!” Teetle? Do you know what that means? I didn’t either. I asked her to repeat it. “I said ‘teetle.’” “Do you mean like toodle-loo? Is that what you’re trying to say? As in, See you later, toodle-loo?” “I would never say that. That sounds dumb.” There was a lull as we tried to figure out how to communicate what, at first glance, appeared to be nothing but a simple, closing remark as she...
I know how to get a blame Diet Coke, thank you.
I'm trying to steer myself clear of Diet Coke. I'm not sure when I began to drink it, actually. Now, I can't get through a day without several. I don't even particularly like the taste of it, to be honest. I guess it's just "what I do" before I teach class, to get in the "zone," with today's youth. I think that's what I tell myself: it's caffeine; you'll need that. These students have never lived without computer access. Email was "old-hat" by the time they were born. You've got to keep up with them. Caffeine is your friend. But, I rarely get the kick I need...
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