Instead, I will tell you a story about what happened at work today. As many of you know, I grade papers for my middle school math teacher (henceforth known as Fibonacci, since she loves that sequence). Additionally, there is a lot of snow on the ground still. These are related, I promise.
So today I walked into the school for work. As I trudged down the hallway, I heard Fibonacci loudly explaining the relationship between this theorem and that postulate. And I thought, "Oh shit. She has a student."
You see, dear readers, Fibonacci tutors students during after-school hours. There are a select few of her students that I like, but this one had to be new, since she usually didn't teach at this time.
As I am walking down the hallway pondering all of this, I realize that my wet boots are emitting the LOUDEST SQUEAKING NOISE I have ever heard boots make. Step, SQUELCH. Step, SQUELCH. No matter how I walked, it made the most god-awful racket.
As I walked funnily up to her door (trying to make as little noise as possible, and therefore making more than I had been before), I saw a classroom FULL of 8th grade students.
Can I just say that I hate 8th graders? Especially the boys. They are rude, crass, and downright disrespectful. And I just squelched into a room FULL of eighth grade boys.
I'm sure I looked like a deer in headlights. I waited, frozen, for Fibonacci to turn from the board and see me. When she finally did, she just said, "Could you wait a moment, please?" and then turned back to the board.
For a split second I didn't know what to do. The students were clearly more interested in me than they were in the insipid numbers on the board, and I didn't like some of the looks I was getting. So I
Soon, Fibonacci brought out the papers I was supposed to grade, and I stork-walked to a table at the end of the hall, all but refraining from shushing my boots.**
After I sat down and breathed a sigh of relief, I noticed that Fibonacci had not given me the answer keys. For a moment I sat, wondering what the hell I was going to do. I didn't exactly want to squeak my way back down the hall and to her room. So I decided to go to the bathroom and try to wipe all the water from my shoes, so they wouldn't squeak.
Of course that didn't work, so I went back and sat down again. After a moment of deliberation, I decided to just take off my boots. In my socks I could quietly slip into the room, grab the answer keys from their shelf toward the back of the room, and sneak back out. Like a ninja!
But of COURSE I didn't see the folder with the answer keys. And of COURSE Fibonacci saw me and asked if I needed something. "Um, yeah. I need the answer keys..."
"Oh, of course! They're here on my desk." On her desk. At the front of the room. Dear lord.
All of those stupid, judgmental eighth grade eyes followed me as I scurried over to grab the folder. As I turned back, I noticed they were ALL focused on my feet. One girl looked at my bright red striped socks, then up to my face and gave me a look that said, "Did you honestly think you could trick us?" YES I THOUGHT I COULD.
I finally went to sit at my table and quietly got to work. AFTER I updated my Twitter followers, that is. "I have a knack of making uncomfortable situations all the more uncomfortable for myself. *facepalm*"
With more than my fair share of awkwardness,
For everyone (Rachel, Whimsy, Nick, and Hannah): Editing videos is fun, but stressful. It's one of THOSE things for me, that I both love and hate. Also, thanks for your well wishes, and thanks for watching, if you did. I'm honestly not heartbroken in the slightest that we didn't win. And I'm still glad to have made a video that I can be proud of.
And just for kicks, here are links for The Music Video and the Behind the Scenes (which I find hysterical, but I'm probably biased).
*The State of the Union is on in 45 minutes, and I want to shower before, so this is just a quick blog. Not that I love you any less because of it!
**Seriously, they were SO LOUD.