Transcript Shenanigans

I needed a copy of my undergraduate transcript to mail out with some other documents this weekend. On Monday I requested the transcript from my Old University, and asked for "rush service," which supposedly took one day of processing. The Registrar's city was close enough to my home that mailing should have taken 1-2 days.

On Friday, when it had not arrived, I decided to go in person and pay even more for "same day service," since I needed to mail it Saturday, and would be out of town Monday.

The tricky bit was that the Registrar closed at 4 PM Friday, and until 2:15 PM I still had obligations at New University, which was 1.5 hours away.

Do you see a problem here?

Luckily, The Sister works at Old University. That morning, I told her where to find my undergraduate ID card at my parents' house, and keep it just in case.

There was traffic, and by 3:30 PM that Friday, I knew I wasn't going to make it to Old University before the Registrar closed.

I called The Sister, and told her to impersonate me. I told her the necessary information to fill out the transcript request form, and reminded her how to forge my signature:

"Yes, that letter is looped and connected to the next one. The middle one has a very long downward stroke . . ."

The Sister then ran to the Registrar, gave them the ID and form, avoided eye contact, and was careful not to use the word "I."

As she handed over the ID card, she noticed her own ID card sticking out the top of her wallet, and furtively shoved it in. Later, she told me that if she had been asked about it, she would have claimed it was her staff ID. "You had me thinking like a criminal!"

The Sister Operative got the transcript. When I finally arrived, she pretended to slip it furtively out of her non-existent trenchcoat, and I pretended to slip it into mine. Mission accomplished.

New Blogroll

I've updated my links to other blogs/sites to more accurately reflect what I'm reading nowadays.

Sadly, some of my favorite blogs retired. However, I found some new things to giggle over.

Slackjawed Idiot

Remember Horny Boy? This post is about why I think his college nickname should have been Slackjawed Idiot.

In one of my history classes the professor decided to assign large (17-person) groups for a presentation and paper. He called it "an exercise in bureaucracy." I think he was secretly amused at the prospect of throwing together a gaggle of strangers and making them cooperate. I decided to "cooperate" by scoping out the most competent-looking right-hand-man, launching a coup, and then running the group as a joint dictatorship. (Don't look at me like that. We were the only group to get an A).

As you might have guessed, Slackjawed Idiot was assigned to my group. We parceled out the portions of the project based on skill. (Those who could draw worked on posters, the computer guys made the Powerpoint slides, people with writing skills wrote the paper, etc.) When we tried to assign Slackjawed Idiot a task we had very limited options.

"Well, we need speakers," said someone in the group.
"Hey, I can speak!" said Slackjawed Idiot.
This was not met with enthusiasm, but we decided that if we wrote the script for him there should not be a problem.

Hah.

My confidence in him plummeted when I ran into him on campus the next week.

"Hey," he said. "You look familiar."
"Yeah, I do."
"Are you in the ____ club?"
"No. I'm in your class."
"Which class?"
"____ Studies __."
"Really?"
"Yeah, and we're in the same group."
"Wow."
"We had a meeting yesterday. Which you missed."
"Aw, my bad."

He did show up to the next meeting to stare open-mouthed at us. Throughout, he continued to exhibit a conspicuous lack of input on the project, but everyone privately understood it was probably better that way.

On presentation day it became painfully obvious that he had not looked over the material for our project, and probably not even the assigned reading for the class.

I did not expect him to be an engaging speech-maker, but at the very least I thought anyone who claimed to have public speaking skills would be able to refrain from reading directly from the paper, and be able to PRONOUNCE THE FREAKING WORDS CORRECTLY.

He resembled a deer caught in headlights, with the intonation of Ben Stein and the charm of a clam. He was human Nyquil.

Now that I think about it, maybe Stoned Idiot would work, too.

Scrabble Confession

I have a confession to make. I helped my sister cheat at Scrabble. She was playing against someone else online, and I was giving her vocabulary help.

One of my suggestions was ghee (Indian clarified butter). After my sister used it the other player sent her an instant message yelling, "What the hell is a GHEE?"

After she explained, she taunted him with "Ghee ghee gheeee! Mmmm, creamy points."

Today, she left him a message that said, "yum yum . . creamy victory. . OH so clarified!"

I've created a monster.

A Poorly Thought-Out Invitation

In college I met a guy whose nickname was H.B. (which stood for Horny Boy). It should have been Slackjawed Idiot (but that's going to be another post).

He once tried to convince me to go to a party that frankly, sounded like a gathering of losers. His main selling point was, "We're going to do stupid stuff, like play spin the bottle."

"Sorry," I said, "that doesn't appeal to me. (Spin the bottle? What are you, like 12?)

When I expressed reluctance he grew desperate.

"There's going to be strippers there!" he exclaimed.

"Um, no thank you please." (I don't want to see that).

"I'm one of them!"

For a moment I thought he was joking, then I realized he was in absolute earnest.

"No, I'm not going to the party." (Are you serious? You look like the offspring of Drew Carey and a manatee! I do NOT want to see you in a thong!)

Male strippers are supposed to wiggle, not jiggle.

Wrestling Magazines

My boss is not very good at buying presents. (Some poorly-received past gifts have included lime green and pink oven mitts for her daughter's male friend, orange socks with pockets for her husband, a "Best of Korn" album for her 30-year-old son to listen to during a roadtrip, a cardboard school bus filled with peach tea for her daughter-in-law, and a fabric-covered wallet printed with playing cards and poker chips for her mother. I've been told to hide all mail-order catalogs from her to prevent her from buying more junk).

I think the best present story is when she decided to buy her daughter's high school boyfriend a small gift for Christmas. She knew he was into wrestling, so she decided that a wrestling magazine would make a good stocking stuffer.

She went to the store and bought a magazine that said "Co-ed wrestling" on the cover. It did not occur to her that something was wrong. The plastic wrapper around the magazine did not tip her off either.

Later, the boyfriend unwrapped the magazine in front of his grandmother at a family gathering. He was greatly amused, but his horrified mother confiscated the soft-core porn mag.

When my boss told the office this story she said, "You laugh, but I was so embarrassed! I had to go and apologize to his entire family. His grandmother still won't speak to me!"

On the upside, the boyfriend thinks she's the coolest mom ever.

Edit: I forgot to add, her daughter said, "Mom, all the guys want to date me now."