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Can You Change My Grade?

I was not a perfect student.  I skipped the occasional class, coasted through a few others (hello Sociology 101), and barely passed my first-year biology class, mostly because I was distracted equally by the professor’s lisp (not a good thing for a man whose first name was Sidney) and by the huge studded leather watchband he wore, which made me wonder if in hith off hourth he didn’t cruithe around …

In A Word: March

I’m NaBloPoMo-ing again, in an effort to make good on a January intention, which was to write more and complain less.  I run the risk, of course, that creating a new post every day will make me complain even more (yes, I think it’s possible, but only barely). But hey, gotta break some eggs, right? Besides, isn’t complaining the meat-and-potatoes of all “mommy blogs?” That’s what a lot of the …