Dogs, Beer and Colorado

So I'm walking to the library,  the campus kind with no picture books,  and I'm strolling behind this lady.  Squatty, out of control curls, some grey streaks, new jeans, the kind that make your butt look flat. A t-shirt that reads:

Dogs

Beer

Colorado

What more could you ask for?

And I'm thinking:  Dogs? Meh.  Beer?  Nah.  Colorado?  The Rockies are nice...

But I'm also thinking...What the heck is this shirt even about? So I speed up.  Maybe I can pass her, wheel around, see the front of her shirt, and make sense of this nonsense.

But the faster I walk, the faster she walks.  She's turning her head back towards me with suspicious, "don't you dare" glances. (judging by her face she looks like the Terrier, Budweiser type).   This is her face:

I'm not going to do anything to you lady,  I just want to figure out your shirt. I pick up the pace.  She picks up the pace. And we were both power walking.

 And it's becoming a little too ridiculous.  
Cut it out. You're not going to jog just to read some random lady's shirt, I tell myself, You're scaring people.

So I slow down and resume my stroll to the library.  I puzzle out the shirt a bit more from behind...no conclusions.  Then my thoughts wander off to other things that make no sense in my life.  A semester's worth of course work, jammed into one week,  my head is spinning...

And it's not just the actual class material that I'm all disoriented about.  It's all of my classes in retrospect.

Drastic change of subject introduced by this picture:

You know those Dear Boys, posts?

(For evidence of such things click here here and here)

Not my thing.  No offense to those who participate, it's just not something I would never do. (Plus, I'm married.) But I think these folks are onto something. Calling out a series of chaotic relationships into cryptic, this-is-really-what-I-want-to-say-so-ha!, excerpts appears to be therapeutic. Boring to read if you have no clue what they're talking about, but hilarious if you do.

So---as a salute goodbye to a semester of whirlwind inexplicable choas, I present to you:  Dear Professor,

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Dear Professor Blue Jeans,

    You make me laugh.  Remember that one day I fell asleep in class and you called me out?  Yeah...embarrassing.  But then you let class out a half hour early because no one else could focus either.  A lot of respect there.  
    I wish I could take another class from you but sadly,  my minor electives are done-ski.  But more importantly,  I wish I didn't have to take your nasty final tomorrow.  Your tests stink.  But your lectures make it worth it.
   Thanks for being so understanding when I missed class for two whole weeks.

Good wishes,

2nd row, three seats from the door

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Dear Professor Sighs,

   Why did you wait until the last day to let me present my final piece in front of the class?!  Gah!  I waited a whole week in suspense.  When I finally got my turn,  I was shaking like a naked monkey in the snow.  Geez!
   And another thing--I appreciate your interest in my writing, but you don't understand that what I wrote about this semester is really all I have to say.  That's it.  End of the show.  No more deep, emotional flashback sagas to tinker with.
    At any rate,  I had a good time in your class.
------
 Back row up against the furnace


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Dear Professor Newbie,

    I like ya,  I really do.  But I think I talked a little too much in your class.  So my apologies for seeming bi-polar, not commenting at all one day and commenting on everything the next. I just had to keep my classmates from disowning me.
    I wish I had time to do a research contract under you, just because I could've made that seven page paper at least twenty pages.
    I think I learned more about life from you than about actual communication concepts.  And that was okee-day with me.  I hope you reach your tenure because you deserve it!

Best,

3rd row, 2nd seat from the back

P.S.  Sorry I was ten minutes late for the final.  Other deadlines, you understand. 

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Yo Shive!

At least that's how you told us to greet you.  I'm conflicted.
I hated your class.  Sometimes I hate you.
I loved the books.  I hated the reading assignments.
You tell me my writing is horrible.  And then give me a passing grade.
You think you're an easy grader. Your final was impossible.  Secretly, I didn't study.
You mocked me for getting married.  But also gave me the chance to do make up work.
You came to my research symposium last spring, so you know I try.
But you treat me like slacker.

We just left on awkward terms.  And I don't know if I look forward to the class I have with you next semester or not.

But in your defense,  there were four other girls by the name of Sarah in the class.

Have a good, long break!

4th row, next to the back window

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And now for your viewing pleasure:  (At least watch the first five minutes)

I don't agree with all of what this guy says, but he definitely has a valid point.