I am death spiraling currently . . . looping on a line of text I read yesterday, which caused me to delete things and wait to return phone calls. Trust me, you didn't want me to return the phone call.
On a lighter note, it turns out that my haircut (at least when I stick it up) has a name. "Dyke Spikes" is what it is called by my students. Before you think I was offended in class or embarassed by a teenager, the teens were actually describing another student's hair, when I caught the word "dyke" which is not appropriate for my room. A conversation ensued about how they were really talking about "dikes", you know, the kind that hold back water and you stick your finger into . . . yeah, right. Anyhow, the boy's haircut is very similar to mine. (the students were so kind. they wouldn't admit that his hair was like mine . . . no, not at all)
So I have a dyke spike haircut . . . wonderful.
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