All I wanted was to be rich and famous.
What is the toughest question you’ve ever been asked?
For me, “Fries – large or medium?” and “Are you out of your mind?” are top contenders. But they aren’t the toughest questions I’ve ever been asked – not by a long shot.
No, the undoubted winner is “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
I like to call this question the ‘How It All Began’ question. I’ll explain.
Imagine this: You’re three years old and your parents have guests over. You’re busy playing with your ‘Barney-the-dinosaur’ soft toy. All of a sudden, there’s a lull in the conversation. Nobody knows what to say, so all eyes slowly turn towards you. You’re too young and innocent to know that you are the next victim. “Aww, what a sweet child,” one lady croons. She looks straight at you and asks, “So, what do you want to be when you…
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Thank God For This Toothache.
1,200 bucks? I’d rather suffer eternally.
It’s been kind of a shitty few weeks here at Trudge Inc. By that, I mean not my version of Heaven on Earth. Which I realize is a tall order. But this version didn’t even come close. Not to what I’d prefer to orchestrate. As my version. Which, although perhaps a little complicated to arrange, wouldn’t cost very much. Except maybe in hurt feelings.
Anyway, this was something very else.
Some low-grade depression, some ass-kicking physical pain, and a sprinkling of mid-ranged irritants. All culminating with an ill-timed blow-up with my mom. The day before her birthday. Yeah I know. I’m the worst son ever. But I don’t want to brag about my ranking. Fact is we fired at each other at point blank range with armor-piercing rounds. And that seems to have brought up all these unpleasant feelings. For both of us. Go…
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I Need To Talk To The Person In Charge Of Changing Humans Into Dogs
I went out with my roommates last night and drank too much wine. Story of my life.
Earlier this morning, I watched this video to help cure my hangover and take my mind off the fact that I have to sit in a rolly chair for the next eight hours and stare at my computer screen.
And then I realized… I’m so jealous of dogs.
Forget girls with nice hair, girls who can plow through three bacon cheeseburgers and not gain a pound, girls who have their dream job before age twenty-five, girls (and boys) with independently wealthy families that get to exclusively shop at Whole Foods. Forget all of them.
I want to be a dog.
Aside from the fact that they get to know one another by smelling butts, being a dog is pretty awesome. I guess I could also do without the whole eating bark flavored…
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What Students Really Need to Hear
It’s 4 a.m. I’ve struggled for the last hour to go to sleep. But, I can’t. Yet again, I am tossing and turning, unable to shut down my brain. Why? Because I am stressed about my students. Really stressed. I’m so stressed that I can only think to write down what I really want to say — the real truth I’ve been needing to say — and vow to myself that I will let my students hear what I really think tomorrow.
This is what students really need to hear:
First, you need to know right now that I care about you. In fact, I care about you more than you may care about yourself. And I care not just about your grades or your test scores, but about you as a person. And, because I care, I need to be honest with you. Do I have permission to be…
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Camp Coachella
Can you spot me? I’m the drunk one.
So, I’m back. Cue the party poppers and the loud reverie of all my adoring fans. If you just hear crickets, don’t worry, that IS the reverie, those ARE my fans. I do very well on the insect circuit.
Anyway. I’m writing this because you asked me to make a post about my Coachella experiences. This is me doing just that. It’s funny. When you initially asked me to write about it, I balked pretty hard. I was already self conscious about going to (what I perceived to be) an event people attend solely so they can say they were there, now I had to become what I hate most by actually blogging about it. But then we got to Palm Springs and we all started drinking and I quickly forgot notions of propriety and my stupid high horse (I’ve since…
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World’s Best Mom
That’s a lofty title, I know. And believe it or not, I know her. Even more amazing (to me) is that I’m married to her.
One might think the world’s best mom would be someone with years of motherly experience and a number of kids — someone who has been doing it for a long time. My wife, Katie, doesn’t come close to qualifying under those terms. You see, we’re new parents. Our first son, Randol Thomas, was born on Thursday at 12:56 a.m. at the incredibly young gestational age of 25 weeks and 4 days. That happy moment had a sad ending when our baby boy lost his life later that morning at 5:20 a.m. after struggling for hours to try and breathe with what we knew were severely underdeveloped lungs — something we knew would be an issue after my wife’s water broke at just 18 weeks.
So how could…
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Party Like it’s 1925
Here at Classically Educated, we think that everyone takes themselves much too seriously. Hell, we’ll probably be accused of taking ourselves too seriously. In fact, the very name “Classically Educated” reeks of pretentious big-headedness. So we are officially declaring this week the “Week of Not Taking Ourselves or the Week of Easter Seriously”, also known by its simple acronym, WONT OOT WOES. Our article on Thursday will probably poke some sort of fun at something around Easter, but we had no article for today.
So, in the time-honored tradition of blogs everywhere, we asked a vampire to send us an article about how to party to run on Easter week. I imagine all the other blogs are doing the same thing. Well, at least those that recognize the universal truth that vampires haven’t been overdone. Anyway, H’s post is below. You may have read it before, but we don’t care.
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idealistrant 