Wooley’s Weekly Wisdom
Undergraduate core classes wasted my time
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Undergraduate core classes wasted my time
Hey there, grammatically inclined-readers. I just did something wrong in that last sentence. Do you know what it is?
Editor’s Note; Amy Dicketss is a columnist from England. What follows are her exploits in America.
When I moved to Albuquerque from the great state of New Jersey nearly three years ago, I welcomed the addition of spicy chile sauces to fill the void left in my stomach after I discovered edible pizza and bagels were nowhere to be found. I happily embraced the dry climate and wide, open spaces, both of which were also new to me.
I think almost all the TAs I know get the same expression when a student asks why they can’t use a random website as a source for a paper. It’s somewhere between a horrified cringe and frustration.
Dear Dr. Peg,
What do atheists do for Christmas? Now that Thanksgiving is over, I’ve heard this question several times couched in the insulting manner that an atheist couldn’t possibly have fun on a Christian holiday.
Down in Denver daunted due to defunct romance
My name is Craig Dubyk, and I want you to take my job.
My wife and I have been married for about 30 years, and we are childless by choice.
Thanksgiving traditionally kicks off a season of feasting. At least for some of us, there will be plenty of opportunities to overindulge in the next month.
I heard a lot of scathing comments from fans Sunday night regarding Mohamed Ibrahim, the center referee for Sunday night’s NCAA men’s soccer tournament second round match-up between 10th seed UNM and unseeded Duke.
A few semesters ago, in the name of cutting costs, several departments lost their telephones. The rationale was that most communication between professors, students and administrators these days is done by email and phones can be eliminated altogether. Along with hiring freezes and budget cuts, these were touted as efficient ways to save money.
To get into college, ask
I wanted to change things up a little bit and write a column for those of you who aren’t having sex and want to keep it that way.
You can do any number of things to make some material a work of art. You can burn it, erase it, fill it, hang it, stretch it, cut it, tape it, paint it, lick it, glaze it, draw it, break it, find it, publish it, hide it, make a series…
There is a big problem on campus. You have probably noticed this yourself, but skateboards abound on campus. They’re positively profligate. Some days it seems as if UNM has opened up a breeding program for these wooden monstrosities and their twisted slang-slinging masters.
The lighter side of grading papers is always the Freudian slips, where students write stuff that makes some sort of sense but is obviously not what they meant. Well, Freudian slips and rather serious misunderstandings of the material; occasional hyperbole is to be expected.
Readers,
I got injured playing defense in recreational soccer last weekend. Fell on my ribs trying — unsuccessfully — to prevent a goal. It got me thinking about pain. Hey, I figured it was better than dwelling on our defeat.