Friday, May 13, 2011

Wake Up! It's Sunday!

We have been incredibly busy little monkeys this last week or so.
Would you like me to tell you about it?
Reginald Kitty does not want to hear this.

Daddy waltzes into the office last Wednesday after work and says "what are you doing on Monday? How would you like to go to Denver for a couple of days?"
Well, I had the last of my finals available for only one day, and it just so happened to be Monday. "Don't worry about it," I said, "the teacher sent out an email saying she could make arrangements if you couldn't take it on that specific day; I'm sure we can work something out."
So, I write to her, saying how Monday was not the best day to take the exam, something had suddenly come up, and it would be incredibly easy for me to take it before that day. This was on Wednesday, mind.
Thursday comes around, and, after a full twenty-four hours with no reply, I wrote to her again; you must give the benefit of the doubt, and room for technical error when dealing with email. I didn't worry too much about it.
When Friday noon came around without a word from her, I decide to take more action. I called the college, got two different email addresses for her, and wrote her there. I, however, was not satisfied with just two email addresses. I tracked an associated telephone number at the college, which took me to a psychology adviser's answering machine. This did not make sense, as this is not a psychology class, nor is it in any way related to that subject.
I then tracked down her supervisor's telephone number, and called him. He was not in the office; however, I left a message with his secretary, who just so happened to tell me that the teacher I was trying to contact just so happened to not live in town, and it just so happened that she may have conveniently given me the name of said town by accident. With this in mind, I looked the teacher up in the telephone book, and called her home line. No one answered, and there was no answering machine. I left it there for the day, knowing I was not going to be getting a response before Monday. Did that fact keep me from writing her on Saturday and Sunday? Of course not!
My only other alternative was to stay up past midnight to see if the exam would automatically be available. Ordinarily, staying up past midnight is not a problem (or, depending on how you look at the situation, that's the problem... cheer up, insomniacs, only three more sleeps 'til Christmas!), but when you are going to be spending the entire day in a car starting five hours after that, you aren't too keen to be up. Thank our lucky stars, the exam was available at 12:15, so I took it. If you're curious, I made full marks.
The cheek of it all is that, at 7:23 AM Monday, I get an email from this teacher, who had obviously not checked into the course that day. Her pathetic excuse appeared in my inbox as follows:

I am sorry for your despair. I usually check email daily but had some issues myself. I will be glad to leave it open through tomorrow if you think you can take at midnight. I will try calling you also to discuss this.

The irony falls in two places here: I told her in each email (all six of them) that I couldn't take it after Monday, and wouldn't be available until Thursday - how the hell can she call and discuss the issue if I have told her previously that I WILL NOT BE IN TOWN? Try getting in touch with me when I'm not here, and we'll see how well you fare; that, and, if she had checked her gradebook, she could have seen that I had already taken the exam, and made 100% on it.
Way to go, morons, way to go.
Pete does not like morons.

I've been dealing with total idiocy like this the entire semester. That, dear reader, is why I have been MIA. You know what, though? I'M BACK! And I bring tales from afar (well, Denver, anyway).

Highlights from the trip? I thought you'd never ask!
Reginald Kitty is not amused.

*The Tattered Cover bookshop, in an area they call LoDo. I could have gone totally broke in there (you know, if a man by the name of Paul hadn't already pretty much emptied our collective bank accounts). Follow the link. Trust.

*Stumbling upon Union Station while on a photo excursion downtown.

*The photo excursion downtown. I couldn't help it; with my drainpipes, boots, and adventure hat, I was feeling avant garde.

*Getting snowed on.

*The waiter at the "Irish" pub asking if I wanted a kid's menu. Yes, because anyone able to order from the kid's menu is going to be wearing a "Talk Nerdy To Me" t-shirt. We later joked that it was a good thing I had decided against packing my Mister Rogers' Neighborhood t-shirt.

*Rosemount (no photos, sorry. We were lucky to have gone at all - they had already locked the doors!) Also, they don't tell you about it on the website, but there's a mummy in that house. I. Kid. You. Not.

Overall, it was a really nice, unexpected break! I got a chance to take some pretty gear photographs, and I discovered my Denver album. Yeah, I have albums I like to play when I'm in certain settings or places. Sue me. I've done it for years.

If you'd like, start the song and watch the slideshow.

Is It A Subscription Box, Or Something More Sinister? (It's A Subscription Box. Maybe.)