Here it is, the secret chart used by bachelors worldwide, because they don't have wives who can recognize on sight (and sometimes before) when the Big Mac has become one with the special sauce. FREEZER FOODS: ICE CREAM - If you can't tell the difference between your ice cubes and your ice cream, it's time to throw BOTH out. FROZEN FOODS - Frozen foods that have become an integral part of the defrosting problem in your freezer compartment will probably be spoiled (or wrecked anyway) by the time you pry them out with a kitchen knife. IN THE FRIDGE: EGGS - When something starts pecking its way out of the shell, the egg is probably past its prime. DAIRY PRODUCTS - Milk is spoiled when it starts to look like yogurt. Yogurt is spoiled when it starts to look like cottage cheese. Cottage cheese is spoiled when it starts to look like regular cheese. Regular cheese is nothing but spoiled milk anyway -- if you can dig down and still find something non-green, bon appetite! MEAT - If opening the refrigerator door causes stray animals from a three-block radius to congregate outside your house, toss the meat. UNMARKED ITEMS: You know it is well beyond prime when you're tempted to discard the Tupperware along with the food. EMPTY GENERAL RULE OF THUMB: - Most food cannot be kept longer than the average life span of a hamster. Keep a hamster in your refrigerator to gauge this. ON THE SHELF: CANNED GOODS - Any canned goods that have become the size or shape of a softball should be disposed of ... Very carefully. POTATOES - Fresh potatoes do not have roots, branches, or dense, leafy undergrowth. THE GAG TEST - Anything that makes you gag is spoiled (except for leftovers from what you cooked for yourself last night). BREAD: Sesame seeds and Poppy seeds are the only officially acceptable "spots" that should be seen on the surface of any loaf of bread. Fuzzy and hairy looking white or green growth areas are good indications that your bread has turned into a pharmaceutical laboratory experiment. You may wish to discard it at this time, depending on your interest in pharmaceuticals. CEREAL: It is generally a good rule of thumb that cereal should be discarded when it is two years or longer beyond the expiration date, or when it will no longer fall out of the box by itself. FLOUR: Flour is spoiled when it wiggles, or things fly out when you open it. PRETZELS: Normally eternal, pretzels may be discarded if they can no longer be picked up without falling apart. Otherwise, there's nothing to stop you from eating a pretzel that the Pharaoh put down only 4000 years ago. RAISINS: Raisins should not usually be harder than your teeth. SALT: It never spoils. However, if you can't chip off reasonable amounts from the block, maybe another box is in order, as fresh salt usually pours. SPICES: Most spices cannot die, they just fade away. They will be fine on your shelf, forever. Put them in your will. VINEGAR: If your grandmother made it, it is probably still good. EXPIRATION DATES: This is not a marketing ploy to encourage you to throw away perfectly good food so that you'll spend more on groceries. Even dry foods older than you are may be ready to replace. Perhaps you'd benefit by having a calendar in your kitchen

TOP TEN PROPOSED HILLARY CLINTON CAMPAIGN SLOGANS 10. "Read My Lips -- No New Interns" 9. "Reward Me For Putting Up With Bill's Crap For So Long" 8. "Isn't It Time You Were Disappointed By A Different Clinton?" 7. "Ask Not What Your Country Can Do For You, Ask How You Can Illegally Contribute To My Campaign" 6. "Vote For Me Or My Husband Will Nail Your Wife" 5. "You Give Me A Vote, I'll Get Vernon Jordan To Give You A Job" 4. "Still Not Indicted As Of Early '99!" 3. "From Perjury To Albany" 2. "Building a Bridge To The 21st Century, and Pushing My Husband Over It" 1. "Oh Lord, Please Don't Make Me Go Back To Arkansas!!!"

Good ones. I hear Hill isn't doing so great with her campaign. She just can't feel the pain I guess.

*lol* That must be it!

My source in New York says they have bumper stickers which say "Run Hillary Run." Democrats put them on their back bumpers, Republicans on the front!

"Winterize your lawn," the big sign outside the garden store commanded. I've fed it, watered it, mowed it, raked it and watched a lot of it die anyway. Now I'm supposed to winterize it? I hope it's too late. Grass lawns have to be the stupidest thing we've come up with outside of thong swimsuits! We constantly battle dandelions, Queen Anne's lace, thistle, violets, chicory and clover that thrive naturally, so we can grow grass that must be nursed through an annual four-step chemical dependency. Imagine the conversation The Creator might have with St. Francis about this: "Frank you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there in the Midwest? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracted butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these green rectangles." "It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great extent to kill them and replace them with grass." "Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?" "Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn." "The spring rains and cool weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy." "Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it - sometimes twice a week." "They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?" "Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags." "They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?" "No, sir. Just the opposite. They pay to throw it away." "Now let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?" "Yes, sir." "These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work." "You aren't going believe this Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it." "What nonsense! At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life." "You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and have them hauled away." "No! What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and keep the soil moist and loose?" "After throwing away your leaves, they go out and buy something they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves." "And where do they get this mulch?" "They cut down trees and grind them up." "Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. Saint Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?" "Dumb and Dumber, Lord. It's a real stupid movie about..." "Never mind I think I just heard the whole story."

The Business World: When the body was first created, all the parts wanted to be Boss. The brain said, "I should be Boss because I control all of the body's responses and functions." The feet said, "We should be Boss since we carry the brain about and get him to where he wants to go." The hands said, "We should be the Boss because we do all the work and earn all the money." Finally, the asshole spoke up. All the parts laughed at the idea of the asshole being the Boss. So, the asshole went on strike, blocked itself up and refused to work. Within a short time, the eyes became crossed, the hands clenched, the feet twitched, the heart and lungs began to panic, and the brain fevered. Eventually, they all decided that the asshole should be the Boss, so the motion was passed. All the other parts did all the work while the Boss just sat and passed out the shit! Moral Of The Story: You don't need brains to be a Boss; any asshole will do.

Henry Ford dies and goes to heaven. At the Gates, St. Peter greets Ford, and tells him, "Well, you've been such a good guy, and your invention...the assembly line for the automobile...changed the world. "As a reward, you can hang out with anyone in Heaven you want." Ford thinks about it, and says, - "I want to hang out with God Himself." So, the befuddled St. Peter takes Ford to the Throne Room, and introduces him to God. Ford then asks God, - "When you invented Woman, what were You thinking?" God asks, "What do you mean?" "Well," says Ford, "You have some major design flaws in your invention: 1. There's too much front end protrusion. 2. It chatters way too much at high speeds. 3. Maintenance is extremely high. 4. It constantly needs repainting, and refinishing. 5. It is out of commission at least 5 or 6 of every 28 days. 6. The rear end wobbles too much. 7. The intake is placed too close to the exhaust. 8. The headlights are usually too small. 9. Fuel consumption is outrageous. Just to name a few." "Hmmm...," replies God, "Hold on a minute." God goes over to the Celestial Supercomputer, types in a few keystrokes, and waits for the results. In no time the computer prints out a report, and God reads it. God then turns to Ford, and says, "It may be that my invention is flawed, but according to these statistics, more men are riding my invention than yours.

Subject: y2k WARNING!!! Please take time out of your busy lives to check your toilet paper stockpile. Make sure it's Y2K compliant!!! Word has it, if it isn't, come Jan 1, 2000, it will roll back to 1900, then turn into a Sears Catalog!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

Time to run to Target and buy more. I'll check for the y2k compliant label.

A preacher wanted to raise money for his church and on being told that there was a fortune in horse racing, decided to purchase one and enter it in the races. However at the local auction, the going price for horses was so high that he ended up buying a donkey instead. He figured that since he had it, he might as well go ahead and enter it in the races. To his surprise, the donkey came in third! The next day the local paper carried this headline: "PREACHER'S ASS SHOWS" The preacher was so pleased with the donkey that he entered it in the race again, and this time it won. The paper read: "PREACHER'S ASS OUT IN FRONT" The Bishop was so upset with this kind of publicity that he ordered the preacher not to enter the donkey in another race. The paper headline read: "BISHOP SCRATCHES PREACHER'S ASS" This was too much for the Bishop, so he ordered the preacher to get rid of the donkey. The preacher decided to give it to a nun in a nearby convent. The paper headline the next day read: "NUN HAS BEST ASS IN TOWN" The Bishop fainted. He informed the nun that she would have to get rid of the donkey, so she sold it to a farmer for $10.00. Next day the headline read: "NUN SELLS ASS FOR $10.00" This was too much for the Bishop, so he ordered the nun to buy back the donkey, lead it to the plains where it could run wild and free. Next day, the headline in the paper read: "NUN ANNOUNCES HER ASS IS WILD AND FREE" The Bishop was buried the next day.

Confutatis maladictis!

Watchit there, Buddy...ladies may be reading this...*LOL*

Translated roughly from the Latin, it means "consigned to flames of woe." I was, of course, referring to the dearly departed Bishop.

According to my Latin dictionary it is more like "silencing abusive speech"

A woman was leaving a 7-11 with her morning coffee when she noticed a most unusual funeral procession approaching the nearby cemetery. A long black hearse was followed by a second long black hearse about 50 feet behind. Behind the second hearse was a solitary woman walking a pit bull on a leash. Behind her were 200 women walking single file. The woman couldn't stand her curiosity. She respectfully approached the woman walking the dog and said, "I am so sorry for your loss and I know now is a bad time to disturb you, but I've never seen a funeral like this. Whose funeral is it?" The woman replied, "Well, the first hearse is for my husband." "What happened to him?" The woman replied, "My dog attacked and killed him." She inquired further, "Well, who is in the second hearse?" The woman answered, "My mother-in-law. She was trying to help my husband when the dog turned on her." A poignant and thoughtful moment of silence passes between the two women. "Could I borrow that dog?" "Get in line."

Response 25 of 26: Wolf (wolf) * Fri, Oct 1, 1999 (19:26) * 2 lines well, just like some folks like math and others english, there are people people and animal people. i am of the latter, for sure. there are some things i condone that some of these radical protestors would be infuriated over. you know, stuff like eating meat! wearing fur coats if you can't get a synthetic coat (i.e., native peoples), hunting but only if you eat what you hunt, etc. everything in moderation, you know? people just want to belong to something and then lose their mind in the middle of a "herd" movement. for this reason, i am against greenpeace, who promote violence in their efforts to help animals, and abortion clinic protestors who kill the doctors. Topic 8 of 27 [SpringArk]: Captivity If you value Spring and the discussions herein (not to mention the venting going on), do you realize this is Terry's web site for which he pays all the bills? Please, it is time to help with any donation you can afford. He has some pretty big bills to pay and he needs your (and my) help to sustain all of the stuff we are posting. Think if he had to cut back and eliminate some of - or all of - the conferences?! Please! Send contributions to: Paul Terry Walhus The Spring 9011 Quail Creek Dr Austin, TX 78758

Addendum...if you would like to see the stats for Spring to check and see all that encompasses: Our stats, for anyone interested, are at http://www.spring.net/stats/stats.cgi Visto is supposed to pay quarterly, but we haven't seen our first check yet. We may be stepping up our shopping areas and going after more clickthrough revenue.

BRIGHT WOMEN..... We got off the Titanic first. We can scare male bosses with mysterious gynecological disorder excuses. We can be groupies. Male groupies are stalkers. We can cry and get off speeding fines. Taxis stop for us. We don't look like a frog in a blender when dancing. New lipstick gives us a whole new lease on life. No fashion faux pas we make could ever rival the Speedo. If we forget to shave, no one has to know. We can congratulate our teammate without ever touching her butt. We never have to reach down every so often to make sure our privates are still there. If we're dumb, some people will find it cute. We have the ability to dress ourselves. If we marry someone 20 yrs younger, we're aware that we look like an idiot. There are times when chocolate really can solve all your problems. We'll never regret piercing our ears. We can fully assess a person just by looking at their shoes.

Stacey sent this to me... Why Yelling at a Man Doesn't Work What a woman says: "This place is a mess! C'mon You and I need to clean up. Your stuff is lying on the floor, And you'll have no clothes to wear If we don't do laundry right now!" What a man hears: blah, blah, blah, blah, C'MON blah, blah, blah, blah, YOU AND I blah, blah, blah, blah, ON THE FLOOR blah, blah, blah, blah, NO CLOTHES blah, blah, blah, blah, RIGHT NOW

Hi Amy..we are safe in here and will not clutter up the other boards with out lamentations and pain...!

I am emboldening it so we can see what we are writing. Please don't close the tags unless you like to start them each time we write.

Okay, I'm here. I sent your email with the address so you can see him--I'm very anxiously waiting to see what you think! I don't care very much for that picture at all, but since I don't have a scanner, I can't send you one I do like. This is some background! Psychadelic!

That is something we chose together before he had to become scarse. I think when he gets back from his hiatus I will encourage him to change it back to something less wild. BTW, is this not the best title for a topic discussing our "problems?!" *lol* There are some pretty funny files in here - it is where I put the ones I deem worthy of a larger audience than my email list.

So, did you see him? Some time in the near future, my picture is going to be there too. All teachers get their pix on there, so you can see mine whenever it goes up. I'll let you know when it does.

OK! Excellent! (I gather you got my Email about the man in question.) My photograph is http://www.spring.net/yapp-bin/restricted/read/porch/35.162 My geologist son is http://www.spring.net/yapp-bin/public/read/porch/35.197

Sorry I sort of disappeared for a while--things got a little hectic around here! I read your email, and it was very sweet. I'll write you a proper response when I get a chance! I'm going right now to look at your picture!

Saw the pix--man, I wish I had a scanner! My sister walked by as your picture came up and said, "Boy, she looks real happy!" *giggle* Surprisingly enough, you look quite like I imagined you. Your son is very handsome--he bears a slight resemblance to Alan Rickman, I think. And geology is my lost career!

ok, i'm here too....btw, i liked all the antedotes, marcia!! really laughed at the oxymorons. have you heard "awfully good"? (oh, marcia, when you posted my quip from springark, were you hinting that i should send money?? *grin*)

Moi...Wolfie? No...not unless you can afford to - but I have concentrated on Drool all of the other times, and I thought perhaps other conferences could help Terry, too. Nothing personal meant, whatsoever!!! *hugs* Happy you enjoyed the humor (yup...awfully good!) Geology is my lost career, as well. Please visit my conference and post from time to time - It gets lonely in there!!! http://www.spring.net/yapp-bin/restricted/browse/geo/all/

and please visit: http://www.spring.net/yapp-bin/restricted/browse/springark/all/ http://www.spring.net/yapp-bin/restricted/browse/paraspring/all/ had to put in a plug or two! and marcia, no offense taken, my dear! *hugs*

Everybody ready to launch into a conversation about hopeless romances?

Sheesh...does this mean we can call ourselves The Academia Nuts?!

Vent, my dear!!! The older but not a whole lot wiser are here with their velvet gloves at the ready to rub down all that anguish...

Yes, we shall be the Academia Nuts! Very clever! I don't know if I have anything else to say right now--somebody give me an idea!

First a little levity thanks to John: The crumbling, old church building needed remodeling, so the preacher made an impassioned appeal, looking directly at the richest man in town. At the end of the message, the rich man stood up and announced, "Pastor, I will gladly contribute $1,000." Just then, plaster fell from the ceiling and struck the rich man on the shoulder. He promptly stood again and shouted, "Pastor, I will increase my donation to $5,000." Before he could sit back down, plaster fell on him again, and again he virtually screamed, "Pastor, I will double my last pledge." He sat down, and an larger chunk of plaster fell hitting him on the head. He stood once more and hollered, "Pastor, I will give $20,000!" This prompted a deacon to shout, "Hit him again, Lord! Hit him again!"

Perhaps we have cried ourselves out for the present...does not mean we will not have a fresh flood of anguish in the near future...we are just regrouping. I found it very comforting talking about it with someone who knew exactly and acutely what I was feeling...and I still love him...!

If you really want to read some funny posts that I considered to risque for here, read John's screwed site at 169. Very funny, indeed.

Okay, since I think we have the weepy business out of the way for the moment, I believe this calls for a poem which I find highly appropriate. Sonnet xli by Edna St. Vincent Millay I, being born a woman and distressed By all the needs and notions of my kind, Am urged by your propinquity to find Your person fair, and feel a certain zest To bear your body's weight upon my breast: So subtly is the fume of life designed, To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind, And leave me once again undone, possessed. Think not for this, however, the poor treason Of my stout blood against my staggering brain, I shall remember you with love, or season My scorn with pity,--let me make it plain: I find this frenzy insufficient reason For conversation when we meet again. (If we were brave, we would each send this to our exes!)

Oh yes! But I have not that venom in my heart nor the courage to back it up. 'tis wonderful, though, and I would encourage YOU to send it to yours!!!

A bit of Dorothy Parker for a lesson tonight: The Lady's Reward Lady, lady, never start Conversation toward your heart; Keep your pretty words serene; Never murmur what you mean. Show yourself, by word and look, Swift and shallow as a brook. Be as cool and quick to go As a drop of April snow; Be as delicate and gay As a cherry flower in May. Lady, lady, never speak Of the tears that burn your cheek- She will never win him, whose Words had shown she feared to lose. Be you wise and never sad, You will get your lovely lad. Never serious be, nor true, And your wish will come to you- And if that makes you happy, kid, You'll be the first it ever did.

Oh no--I could never, never send that to him! I'm not supposed to be angry with him at all, considering that I told him I'd forgiven him for what he did. I hate feeling that I'm at a state of war with him, but it seems that way sometimes because we are both so dad-blasted proud and stubborn that we'll never let the other have the "one-up" on us. That is a marvelous poem. It rather reminds me of something Mammy told Scarlett in "Gone With the Wind," remember?

BTW, there's an email waiting for you!

...and now there is one waiting for you...*smile* ...going to post a poem at loss...

Another email for you, Marcia!

and one back to you *smile*

Here's another goodie from Edna St. Vincent Millay (whom I think deserves her own topic:) Sonnet xcv Women have loved before as I love now; At least, in lively chronicles of the past-- Of Irish waters by a Cornish prow Of Trojan waters by a Spartan mast Much to their cost invaded--here and there, Hunting the amorous line, skimming the rest, I find some woman bearing as I bear Love like a burning city in the breast. I think however that of all alive I only in such utter, ancient way Do suffer love; in me alone survive The unregenerate passions of a day When treacherous queens, with death upon the tread, Heedless and willful, took their knights to bed. (Oh, my Chevalier!)

We know that feeling, do we not?! Oh my! And for so long I thought I was the only one since time began who ached like that and yearned so acutely...

we must get a list together for Wolfie for her conference (poetry) so she can make Millay and D Parker Topics...! Or one called Sardonic verses perhaps?

What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now forever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering; In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind. from William Wordsworth "Ode: Intimations of Immortality", stanza 10. I love Millay's and Parker's sardonic wit, but being male (and yes, one who has had my heart crushed as well...), thought I might bring another perspective (albeit, at the risk of it--and me--being unwelcome).

No no, you're not unwelcome at all! Being a Romanticist, I think that poem is highly appropriate. As a matter of fact, when I started scrolling down the page, I was reciting along with it! Wordsworth talks about finding "strength in what remains behind," but what if you have nothing? I find your perspective very interesting, John--I'm curious to see how men handle the same situation when faced with it.

I just remember this variation of "The Serenity Prayer": Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I cannot accept, and the wisdom to forever hide the bodies of the people I had to kill today because they pissed me off. But seriously, Amy, call me hopelessly "Romantic." I don't believe that one is ever left with nothing, as long as one has not sold his or her soul. And yours is the soul of a poet. I go through anger, denial, grief, and then somewhere down the road, acceptance. It took me a long time with my last one, who I was not with for long, but loved intensely (she was my Muse). I think the old cliche "Women fall faster; men fall harder" is true.

John, I feel immensely guilty for having ever been nasty to you. You are a kind and gentle soul! Do you really think I have the soul of a poet? Wow! I don't think anyone has ever said that about me before. No, I don't think I sold my soul--Good God, I hope not! I only feel like I was left with nothing because I spent ten months of my life consumed with him--he was everything that meant anything to me--and now I have nothing to show for it except for a box of momentoes under my bed. A book he gave me. Some department newsletters with stories about him in them. A letter he wrote to me. My reading journal from his class. Nothing that amounts to much of anything for all of the time and effort I put into p easing him.

I am searching for evidence that men fall harder than women. If I had fallen any harder I'd be splat on the windshield of life. I did fall sooner. If nothing else, you take away experience...this is what I kept telling my son as he sobbed out the anguish of a broken heart. It made him more compassionate toward the next young lady who came into his life. He agreed with me, but still wishes he could have avoided learning such a painful lesson. So do I...! As far as I know, I have been forgotten...but I hope not...I am pretty hard to forget.

This is a really bizarre thing for him to say, but my ex (I can't think of anything else to call him,) said that I "shouldn't have any regrets about it,"(probably because he doesn't,) and that I should "chalk it up as a learning experience." And if there were such a thing as dying of a broken heart, I would have already done it. Just as Rosalind said in As You Like It: "But these are all lies: men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love."

It is easy to put one's anguish before all others. I wonder how it is quantified...not an easy thing to measure. Thanks for quoting Rosalind...it is one of my favorite lines. (Your ex sounds very cold-hearted...not even an "I'm sorry" ??? Has he done this to anyone else?)

I think we should form a lit circle with John at the center and we could revolve around him and satisfy his need for discourse with the feminine gender on an intellectual level...! What say you?

Oh, he did say he was sorry--sorry that he hurt my feelings and that things had to turn out the way they did. I think he just didn't know of any other way to break the relationship off. Although I am hesitant to "revolve" around any man, even one as enlightened as John, I think it would be a great idea. So says I. Oh, I got the email from TFB--I knew she'd get around to it eventually!

As soon as TFB's email came through it went out to you...too amazing especially when I had spent the last 24 hours with an SO of her SO...so to speak. Whew! I meant to revolve in the manner of taking turns rather than inflict just one of us on him...as in my case, I am sure he would feel it would be. Variety and all that.

An SO of her SO? Hmm, I don't think I was ever his SO, not by a long shot. I think I could maybe warrant being called "a dalliance," or "a fancy," or "a pretty plaything," or something to that effect, but not an SO.

AhSo...screwed indeed, but in John's sense of the word...the worst possible way. You are far more worthy of better than plaything dalliance than just about anyone I can think of - shame on him for taking advantage of your vulnerability! (Didn't work, did it? Still carrying that flaming torch, as I am...!)

Ah yes, I know...but I can't throw ten good months out the window just because it ended badly! Up until that point, he was absolutely angelic to me and did anything I asked, and if he hadn't come along, I don't know where I would be right now. Probably not in graduate school and certainly not teaching--all of that was his idea!

Ok, you redeemed him in my eyes...he has done a great service to you. He should have completed it =) One day a group of scientists got together and decided that man had come a long way and no longer needed God. So they picked one scientist to go and tell Him that they were done with Him. The scientist walked up to God and said, "God, we've decided that we no longer need you. We're to the point that we can clone people and do many miraculous things, so why don't you just go on and get lost." God listened very patiently and kindly to the man. After the scientist was done talking, God said, "Very well, how about this? Let's say we have a man-making contest." To which the scientist replied, "Okay, great!" But God added, "Now, we're going to do this just like I did back in the old days with Adam." The scientist said, "Sure, no problem" and bent down and grabbed himself a handful of dirt. God looked at him and said, "No, no, no. You go get your own dirt!"

German scientists dug 50 meters underground and discovered small pieces of copper. After studying these pieces for a long time, Germany announced that the ancient Germans 25,000 years ago had a nationwide telephone network. Naturally, the British government was not that easily impressed. They ordered their own scientists to dig even deeper. 100 meters down, they found small pieces of glass, and they soon announced that the ancient Brits 35,000 years ago already had a nationwide fibre net. Israeli scientists were outraged. They dug 50, 100 and 200 meters underground, but found absolutely nothing... They concluded that the ancient Hebrews 55,000 years ago had cellular telephones.

I don't need anyone to revolve around me (lord knows that's a year-long trip anyhow). But I am enjoying the poetry in the posts, and am glad that my Masters advisors are male. Who knows what will happen when and if I attempt a doctorate. Amy, despite the fact that teaching is indeed a noble profession, if you get into teaching full-time at the university level, watch your back! I teach high school and I don't really trust some of my administrators and colleagues, but I am politically active and a u ion activist, so they don't dare pull nasty stuff with me. My poetry professor as an undergrad, who is one of the finest young poets out there today, although not well known, was denied tenure by a committee containing a couple of jealous colleagues--just as his first novel got a Pushcart award. Marcia knows his work, although I don't think she's met him. Unfortunately, he's having to cobble a meager existence as a freelance writer. But use your heart wrenching experience to your creative best. You d have the soul of a poet. I am seldom wrong about these things. And when you are the powerful prof and there is some young grad student who worships the very lectern you lean on, please be kind.

Somehow, I can't imagine my students worshipping me--right now, they don't even have enough respect to pay attention, stop talking when I tell them to, read aloud when asked, or turn in their papers on time (if at all.) They told me that I'm not a "real teacher," whatever that means--but they'll be getting real Fs on their grade reports! Thank God I haven't the slightest interest in younger men!

Life can be a bitch for TAs. They're the student-teachers of the college food chain. But one day, it will be your turn...and I'm not asking you to be interested (other than in a professorly way)...just to be kind. There will be some student (either male or female, it doesn't matter in affairs of the heart) who feels about you the way you feel about this (obviously married) prof. I am pushing 50, quite overweight, but I can see that even considering that, there is the occasional high school girl who has more than a teacherly interest in me. Quite obviously, nothing can come from that, but I have no choice but to be flattered and to be as humanly considerate of the poor girl's feelings as I can. There is a slim, sultry, 17-year-old, Tahitian hula dancing young woman who makes it a point to visit me every recess and lunch (and I have mastered the art of grading papers while talking to her, so she doesn't interfere withmy work). Even though she has a boyfriend, she has thoughts of me beyond a teacher y way--and they will disappear the minute she graduates! (Forbidden fruit). That's all it could be. I'm not the least bit physically attractive. I am, however, a good teacher and somewhat of a local celebrity (Marcia has probably told you that).

I don't think I have the personality to do to someone what my professor did to me--I'm terribly shy, very withdrawn, and I don't generally let people get too close to me, which I've found is a bit off-putting for those who don't know me that well (like my students.) I don't have the charisma that he has, either. I just don't think, after what has happened, that I could even dream of doing that to a student.

I'm glad you couldn't do what he did to you. I just hope that when the inevitable happens--and someday some student will be attracted to you (if one isn't already)--that you recognize it.

If one isn't already--what a riot! You can't imagine how rotten these little buggers are. I don't know how most of them even got into college. And if one is attracted to me, I certainly haven't noticed it. One person has come to my office all semester, and that's because she wanted to try to talk me in to letter her rewrite her paper!

Oops, that should have been "letting her"--I'm trying to catalogue shop and write at the same time!

If one isn't already--what a riot! You can't imagine how rotten these little buggers are. I don't know how most of them even got into college. And if one is attracted to me, I certainly haven't noticed it. One person has come to my office all semester, and that's because she wanted to try to talk me in to letter her rewrite her paper!

Oh Splendid - a worthy unscrewed conversation going on in here. John makes a good point about being careful with the adoration of your students...sometimes it is difficult to tell the career brown-nosers at first from the smitten, but it comes with time and experience. John, dear, you are far too hard on yourself. You are seeing yourself through the eyes of a man who is attracted to the external and is all visual. Women are not like that...*grin* Alas, I have never met your worthy poet. I was in a l rge group of faculty schmoozing with the Chancellor (who happened to enjoy my company)...but I never actually personally met or talked to him. My loss. for certain!

I'm tired of this "teacher/student romances" topic. Can we go on to something else? This has stirred up the pond of my heart, bringing up silt that had been left on the bottom for some time, and I haven't slept in two nights thinking about it.

Be my guest - something healthy - like what do you like to do when they let you escape from that ivory tower prison???

An Oldie, but still good: Two college seniors had a week of exams coming up. However, they decided to party instead. Well, as you might have guessed, they didn't get any studying done. When they went to the test, they decided to tell the professor that their car had broken down the night before due to a very flat tire and they needed a bit more time to study. The professor told them that they could have another day to study. That evening, both of the boys crammed all night until they were sure that they knew just about everything. Arriving to class the next morning, each boy was told to go to separate classrooms to take the exam. Each shrugged and went to two different parts of the building. As each sat down, they read the first question. "For 5 points, explain the contents of an atom." At this point, they both thought that this was going to be a piece of cake, and answered the question with ease. Then, the test continued... "For 95 points, tell me which tire it was."

I assume you're talking about school being my ivory tower prison? Well, it does so happen that I have many other interests besides just literature--I really enjoy studying historical costume (I considered going to art school to become a costume designer for the theatre,) I collect paper dolls and Irish porcelain dolls, I like to draw, I like foreign films, I like studying caves (I live in a karst valley, Marcia--I shall have to tell you about it some time,) I cross-stitch and embroider on occasion, I lov to shop, I listen to Irish and Renaissance music, I write lots of letters to my friends and family, I'm on a mission to find a) the best nachos in town and b) the best Irish Cream Latt� in town, I like creating desktop themes for my computer, I do calligraphy...how's that?

That is better than I dared hope. I have known so many narrow visioned intellectuals that I had given up hope that "normal" ones still existed! You are my kind of a lady. Much diverse interest. Want me to open a cave topic in Geo for you? I'd be delighted to do so. I need to attract people into there to see how fun it really is - not all cut and dried and everyone must think it is. Even my best bud, John, does not go there...! He never gave it a chance, I think...! Costume design sounds marvelous.. I think you would be splendid in the theater where all of your creative outlets could be put to use. There is surely a Theater department at SMSU?! Btw, where are you located?

I was looking for a cave topic in Geo, and I was very surprised not to find one. If you open one, I would be most happy to post there. I have considered theatre, and I really wanted to be in a play in high school, but I have always been too shy to try out. I certainly can't write plays (mine was a disaster--a real closet drama,) and theatre people just really aren't my types, so I've never done anything with it. Yes, there is a theatre department at SMSU--John Goodman, Kathleen Turner, and Tess Harper all got their degrees here! I live in Springfield, the third largest city in the state, located in the southwest corner of Missouri. Look me up in the atlas!

I'm on my way!!! Meet ya there!! Yippee!!!

Oh, I forgot to mention that I'm also an Irish dancer, although I stopped taking lessons in May because the teacher and I had a disagreement about tuitions!

Oooh! You have leg muscles that don't quit! My nephew's wife is a long-time Irish dancer, also. Lovely stuff, that! Stirring, too!

ok, i had to rush through the last few posts because i wanted to invite john to invite the poet and get him to post some pieces of his work for us. this way, we can all read his stuff and with our connections, maybe help him out a bit. at least get him some attention in the cyber world (e-zines, e-zines, e-zines!!)

Wolf, he says he's considering e-zines, but he has no problems getting published in good old hard copy, so I don't think he's ready to make the transition yet. I think he's also trying to stay as far away as possible from "academics" and "intellectuals." Although I can invite, I think the reality of the Spring would probably not be good for him. Amy, so you're at Southwest Missouri State. My dad (deceased) got his B.A. in English at SE Missouri State in Cape Girardeau. He did his graduate work at M Gill University in Montreal.

What was your father's field of interest? I have never heard you speak of him.

check your email, john

The Five "Bs" of middle age Baldness, bifocals, bridgework, bunions and bay windows. ********* Getiing old is just a matter of feeling your corns more than your oats ******** You can tell when you hit middle age by the way it hits back. *********** Youth looks ahead, old age looks back, and middle age looks worried. ********* By the time we get to greener pastures we're not able to climb the fence. ******** Of all the things I've ever lost I think I miss my mind the most.

The really idle man gets nowhere. The perpetually busy man does not get much further. - Sir Heneage Ogilvie (thanks for the invite, Marcia! My eyeballs are still in recovery. ;)

Sorry I ever suggested it(the background, that is..!) Welcome to the wilder side of Spring, Nan !B Beware of posting too profound of a lament. I used an event from my past and brought it into the present for purposes of lamenting with Amy...it was read and misinterpreted and caused grief all over the place. Lament as you wish - I shall be a shoulder to cry on, but not one to speak of her past as though it were the present. Sorry for the problems it caused. I am lots older this evening...and, I hope, a lot wiser.

OH, OUCH!!! I'm sorry to hear that. Hope the bruises are better quickly.

Thanks! *hugs* They will be with ladies like you for friends.

I just want to say that NO ONE is going to ruin my good time in the Spring! I'm going to post what I want, when I want, and anyone who doesn't like it can KISS MY IRISH A**!!!! If anyone misunderstands me, tough noogies!

Bless you for your straightforwardness, Amy. Your comments are always welcome here =) (I think I might be a little picky about who gets to kiss any part of me...let alone where I can not watch what else they might be doing ;)

Ohh, Marcia, you're baaaad!

*grin* ...but apparently I am pretty good at it...! Loved your comment, Dear!!! Right on the mark!

Amy I certainly wouldn't want to deny your right to free speech, and although I may misunderstand you from time to time, be assured that it's not out of malice. May I pucker now????

used wrong HTML tag and am now closing it *embarrassed blush*

See, Amy! I told you to be specific! You don't know who is going to show up back there when you are not watching your backside...*lol*

My mama said there's always one snake in the garden!

Your Mama was right...(and a clever one, at that!)