Well, my greatest relief from last night's debate is that, regardless of which candidate people perceived as winning the debate, ABC took loser of the night. Did they think that Stephanopoulos was the best man for the job as their most prominent journalist, or because his biases against both sides would cancel each other out? I honestly like the guy, but the man who owes his career to the Clinton administration, though strongly clashing with Hillary Clinton, probably was not the wisest pick. On top of all that, his questions shat the bed, if you excuse the borrowed phrase. He claims he asked about important issues that haven't been discussed in the debates before. The truth of the second part of that statement is due to the falsehood of the first: the questions had little play in previous debates because they are so incredibly unimportant to the American people, their lives, and their government.

I confess I wasn't able to see all of the debates, but felt fortunate that tonight I was able to view all of the Colbert Report. It was a better showing anyway.

Now enough rants. I'm too tired to even complain eloquently. Here's my amusing teacher tidbit for the night.
Mikhail (student): (Appearing in my office door, looking past me to the math teacher) Can I talk to him?
Me: Yeah, is this a guy thing? I can leave...
Mikhail: Oh no, it's a math thing.
Math Teacher: Well if you're asking if I think Ms. McC will marry you, I don't think so.
Mikhail: Oh, I know she won't. She's older than me and way out of my league.
Me: Automatic A.

Maybe I spoke too soon about my ability to conceal my dorkiness. (Insert glasses finger nudge here.)

And she's back

That's it. I have gone through all my methods of avoiding my paper. It is time for me to return to the blog. After all, what would the internet be like without sad and embarrassing stories of this awkward teacher? (Answer: It would more than survive on all the other sad and embarrassing teacher stories out there.)

Today's embarrassment: trying to pretend you're cooler than you really are. I never realized how much teaching in a high school would make me feel like Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed -- reliving painful memories and stereotypical cliques while taking that second chance to make a name for yourself. Of course, I'm not lying about my age, pretending to be a student, or seducing men 10 years younger than me, like Drew was. I also like to think I'm slightly better at this the second time around, unlike Ms. Barrymore's character.

That said, there are still those moments when I am acutely aware of just how dorky I am. Our school has a fashion elective, in which students design and make clothing. Students display their final products at the Spring Art Show in a fashion show, something I was not aware of until a few days ago. When asked by a student if I would be her "model," I could have felt so very Project Runway, but instead I felt so very panicked. "Uh...uh... would I have to take pictures? Because if that's the case you should reconsider for your own benefit. I'm the least photogenic person you'll ever meat." Upon learning that this was not some sort of school magazine spread, but rather a show where you walk down a small runway, I responded nervously, "Oh, walking. I can walk. I can totally walk. What day is this supposed to be?"

Turning for my planner, I swiftly tripped over my heals and collapsed (luckily) into my desk chair. Smiling at the student, I said, "Well, I wouldn't do that during the show. Really."