bouncy OB/GYNs on a plane

Among the list of the many irrational fears I harbor (including getting killed by a serial murderer, thanks a lot CSI), flying is somewhere in the top half.

I was never afraid of it when I was little. As long as I had some Jolly Ranchers to help with the change in ear pressure, I was a happy camper. I loved to sit in the window seat and stare out the window – I thought it was marvelous that we were so high above the clouds.

Nowadays I think it's basically insane. To be sealed up in a large metal craft and hurtle through the air at a very fast speed tens of thousands of feet in the air? No thank you ma'am. I think it's because there is some part of my mind that simply cannot fathom how a giant metal box doesn't just fall out of the air. Yeah, yeah, I know its got physics and aerodynamics and all that in play, but this is an irrational fear, remember?

Regardless, I get pretty anxious, which I have learned to combat two ways. 1) Drinking (the preferred method), or 2) Keeping my mind firmly planted on something else so I don't freak myself out.

Flying home from Jackson last weekend, I had homework to do on the plane/once I got home, so option #1 was out. Instead Brian helped distract me by playing Mad Libs. Last year on an all-day train from England to Scotland we fought boredom by writing and playing our own Mad Libs. Trust me, they so much better than the ones you buy.

See for yourself. This one, a touching wedding story, was written by me with words provided by Brian:

And here we have an expose about where Penny goes after we're asleep, written by Brian and words provided by me:

Millsaps vs. BU

Since I've been here in Boston, I've spent a lot of time admiring the huge beautiful school buildings with what I imagine are state-of-the-art classrooms and photoshop labs and other delicious things inside. But today I was reminded why Millsaps is still superior to big fancy schools with endowments and multiple majors and buildings that aren't falling down and such luxuries. Please compare with me.

My professor/boss introduced herself to her TAs today with the following:

"You should always call me Dean Smith*, Dr. Smith (as I do have a PHD), Professor Smith (as I am the main lecturer for this course), or some combination of those. What matters is that the freshman should never, ever think it is acceptable to call me Jane. There is a hierarchy that must be maintained."

And she's probably right. With 425 little pain-in-the-ass freshman under her tutelage, she needs some respectful distance. But at Millsaps things are different. Millsaps professors don’t give a rip about such “hierarchy.” They would never blink an eye at being called Anne, Sandra or Curtis. Or, for that matter, MacMac or the Griffster or some other ridiculous nickname.

I also can’t quite imagine Dean Dr. Professor Smith carrying on this conversation:

Me: (as I alphabetize daily Heritage response papers) “Hey Griff, do you actually read these things?”
Dr. Griffin: “Sometimes I do. One time a student wrote, ‘Fuck you, Griff, I know you don’t read these!’ and I took it into class, showed it to all the students and said “FUCK YOU YES I DO!’”

*names have been changed in the hopes that I don't lose my job