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While dining with the boy, we noticed the establishment's music playing softly in the background amidst the chatter of clientele and clinking of glasses and dishware. Not fabulous music, mind you, but muzak renditions of some classic hits of the 70's and 80's... easy listening if you will. But a few of the tunes reminded us of other times and places in our lives, most notably the music I heard growing up. My parents loved music, and it was always playing within the home. There was variety, no doubt, with my father's penchant for motown and my mother's Chinese and folk. Between "rainy days and Sundays" and "feeling the earth move under my feet," I grew up in a pretty wide range sound. A couple of years ago I returned to some of my favorites and bulked up the cd collection with a few: The Beatles - #1's. The late 60's especially. The Carpenters - Carpenters. Superstar. Best.song.ever. Know them all by heart. Jim Croce - Photographs and Memories. Operator still makes me sad. Carly Simon - No Secrets. I bet you think all these songs are about you. James Taylor - Sweet Baby James and James Taylor. Fire and Rain has gotten me through some bad shit. Carole King - Tapestry. This album played constantly throughout my childhood. Love it. Aretha Franklin - Aretha Now. The Queen of Soul. The Temptations - Ultimate Collection The Four Tops - Essential Collection Marvin Gaye - The Very Best of Marvin Gaye. You've "got to give it up!" Chinese Music Ensemble of New York - Beloved Chinese Songs Dolly Parton - Jolene. Jolene is my favorite, and Whitney can kiss her ass. Kenny Rogers - Gambler. "You never count your money when you're sitting at the table." Wisdom, I tell you.

2.9.2004 | Dear Students To my best and brightest, Composing entire paragraphs out of quotations (that you lifted off the internet and failed to cite properly) back-to-back and using them as sentences alone doesn't actually qualify as a paper written by you. Trust me. Yours Truly, Evil Prof

The boy and I had another great weekend together. We relaxed, enjoyed (too much) good food & drink, and even got in our first round of golf together. I was a bit nervous about the whole thing, though. I mean, athletics and men usually equates to competition, and I abhor competition. I find that the fun and leisure of such games is instantly forfeited once someone loses their mind if they have a few more strokes than you. I am open to constructive criticism of my swing, as long as you don't give me the "I told you so" if I don't perfect it by the time we leave the driving range. I am also capable of driving a golf cart, despite my lack of male genetalia. Plus (for those of you non-golfers), 18 holes takes approximately 4 hours if you go by regulation and don't dawdle. That's a long time to be with a competitive freak. But the boy did very well. We had a lot of fun, which was great because I didn't have my best game on. The weather was chilly, but sunny, and he did very well for the wind we were having. He is very cute when he counts yardage and scolds himself ever so slightly for choosing the wrong iron (too cute!). He thinks it's cute when I skip around the green and use emoticons to keep my score. I even got to give my my new, snazzy granny shoes a spin. All in all, it was a success. We even discussed my recurring fantasy about being, um, amorous, on a golf course one evening. *To decipher golf terms go here.

During the evil class last night, this prof developed a migraine. Coincidence? I think snot. I let them out early and ventured over to L & J's to meet them and the boy to watch the Duke/ UNC game. I tried to put on a pretty face, but between the poor effort on UNC's part and the migraine, the pain soon overcame me. So I bailed at half time and made my way home. My current favorite remedy of choice for this ailment? Diet Coke, prescription painkiller, ice pack, pure darkness, and lots of pillows to bury my head under. When I woke up this morning, I was still a bit foggy but pleasantly pain-free. The boy called to check up on me. I then looked over to the pup, who had sweetly placed her head on the bed and was licking me. Or, should I say, licking my hair. I soon found evidence of something crusty in my hair that she was nibbling on. I looked over to the nightstand, where there was an empty glass with a handprint made by the same crusty stuff. I walked into the kitchen and found smears of the same stuff and crumbs on the counter. WTF? Apparently in my drug and pain induced haze last night, I ventured into the kitchen to make a snack. A snack that consisted of me taking a piece of bread, swiping it on the inside of the jar of peanut butter, and proceeding to get peanut butter all over the place, including myself. I never said I was pretty.

Things that blow: 1. No soy milk at Starbucks. Are they trying to kill me? 2. A one hour meeting lasted two. 3. The meeting was about my health insurance premium going up 40%. 4. I miss the boy and won't see him until 9 pm. 5. That's because I teach the evil class. 6. They stare at me like deer in headlights, don't ask questions, and don't follow directions. Things that rock: 1. A free Caramel Apple Cider (no whip, thankyouverymuch). And I'm having beers with the entire Starbucks crew on Saturday because they love me. 2. I won solitaire on my Tungsten. Twice. 3. I can decrease my health insurance plan needs since I am not expecting a bambino any time soon and I vow to be extra careful crossing the street. 4. I love the boy. And he called. 5. My Monday students are awesome. 6. And the evil class gets a video tonight.