Thursday, October 18, 2007

Happy girl

SUNNY GIRL was particularly peevish this morning as I prepared for work. She gets very quiet and still just before I leave. She sits in the middle of the floor and stares upward.

It maximizes guilt and such. Very effective.

As I left, I said, "Try to be good, Sunny Girl." She continued to stare—motionless, silent. "And try not to be such a weasel." The remarks are almost ritualistic.

My morning class seemed to go well. The last time I saw this particular bunch—that was Tuesday morning—they got surly and difficult on me, which can happen when the topic is the Existence of God and the feeble arguments that have been adduced in support of that notion.

"I'm sorry, but this argument just doesn't cut it," I finally said two days ago, as any self-respecting logician or philosopher would do. I mean, the matter was pretty cut and dried, logically speaking.

Snarkitude was thus unleashed. Usually, I manage to avoid that. Not this time.

The trick is to return to such classes as though things couldn't be lovelier! "Hello everybody! Have you ever seen so fine a day?" Chirp, chirp, chirp.

That's what I did. Works every time.

Rebel Girl has a cold. When she shuffled miserably into the office, she was even more peevish than Sunny Girl. At one point, she instructed me to take a picture of all the medications and cough drops she had assembled on her desk. Don't know why, but here's the pic.

Looks pretty good, I guess. Impressive.

Later in the day, when I had returned home, she sent me an email that said simply,

It's Thursday at 5:20 and the copy machine in A-200 is already out of paper! Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

It was nice to see that her mood had improved.

The dean of Humanities and Languages—who is also the dean of Fine Arts!—is moving on to better things over at Long Beach City College. She's pretty special, and she's made many friends in the two or so years she's been at IVC.

So she was given a farewell party. That was at noon today. I do believe it was the best sendoff party for an administrator I've ever seen at this college.

Glenn spoke. He said that when he first met Karima, he couldn't place her accent. Then it hit him: Arabic and Texan.

Well, I'll leave it at that, 'ceptin' for these pictures. But it's nice to know that somebody can leave such a fine mark in so short a time.

A former student dropped by to say hello. I've been advising her on some important career decisions, and it does look like she's on her way. I expect great things from this young person.

My second class turned out well, too. I didn't have to feign chirpiness for this group.

I did some grading for an hour or two. But that was just about it for me today at Irvine Valley College. Not bad, eh?

When I got home, Sunny Girl was especially glad to see me, 'cause I had groceries, which somehow augurs well in the Sunster's walnut-sized brain. She commenced rolling around on her back on the carpet and then zipping around like a lunatic. It's her special greeting ritual.

I gave her some of her favorite food. After a while, she settled down on a pillow I've got near my Mac. She watched me type.

She's a happy girl, she is.


6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Nice pics!

Anonymous said...

You're a good person, Chunk. Truly.

Anonymous said...

Great gal, that Karima. We'll miss her bigtime.

Anonymous said...

Yes, we'll miss her but the move is better for her in so many ways. Once again, a great person driven off (in part) by being given an undoable job - managing TWO schools. My god. Who runs this place?

Anonymous said...

Why do we always lose great people. What about our district that turns so many people off. Could it be Mathur, the board or just the lack of integrity by so many people. What ashame.

Anonymous said...

I think that image of Susan Corum gazing adoringly at Dennis is ripe for a caption contest.

Let's do it!

Roy's obituary in LA Times and Register: "we were lucky to have you while we did"

  This ran in the Sunday December 24, 2023 edition of the Los Angeles Times and the Orange County Register : July 14, 1955 - November 20, 2...