Your Personal Introduction To Plagiarism

, , , , , | Learning | June 29, 2018

My middle school has two periods dedicated to English: reading and writing. Both are taught by the same teacher. She is not very popular with my class, for many reasons.

One assignment in our writing class is to research and write an essay on a current event. We start out by writing a rough draft. I compile a decent enough body for the paper, filled with lots of quotes about the event I chose, but the part I am particularly proud of is the original introduction I wrote for the paper. I spent a good amount of time on it until I was finally happy with it.

The day after we print off and turn in our rough drafts, out teacher starts the class by lecturing us on plagiarism, stating that she received an obviously plagiarized paper. She then reads this “plagiarized” paper in the most condescending voice I have ever heard, and by the first sentence, I realized that she is reading my paper.

She finishes mockingly reading my introduction, and says that she knows it is plagiarized because no middle-schooler could write that well. She passes back the papers and we are sent to revise our drafts, but she doesn’t say anything else to me. I am quite obviously upset, and not really working on my paper, since my heart isn’t in it.

I later learn that she didn’t even run it through a plagiarism checker before deeming it plagiarized. Later, after a private confrontation, she did accept that I had written the introduction, and had not taken it from another source, but I despised her for the rest of my middle school career.

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Time… For A Break

, , , , | Working | June 29, 2018

Our department is horribly understaffed, and has been all day. My coworker and only coverage comes up and asks me if he can leave ten minutes early to catch his bus; I haven’t yet had my first break and need to go before he leaves.

As I turn to check the computer at our desk for the time, I spot a couple obviously waiting for help. I try to do three things at once: let my coworker know I need a break before he can go, greet the customer, and check the time.

What I end up doing is turning to the customer with a giant smile on my face and proclaiming in my cheeriest customer service voice, “Hi, what time is it?”

Fortunately, they thought it was funny.

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A Marriage Of Inconvenience

, , , , , | Friendly | June 29, 2018

My husband had a best friend since school. I happened to meet them together at a festival, and my husband and I fell in love at first sight. We kissed before we knew each other’s ages and surnames. We moved in together a year later and have been happy ever since.

That was 2003. Life changes, and for thirteen years I’ve been his girlfriend, but basically we are living the married life. Childhood friendships drift apart, but we traditionally invite everybody at least once a year for a very nice Christmas party.

At 30, I decide kids are now or never, and we are soon expecting twins. As we are very unceremonial, but want to avoid legal annoyances, we want to marry before the kids are born. As I am not christened and never missed anything, we do a simple legal wedding at the town house with only our parents and the future godparents for the twins.

We don’t tell anybody, as we feel it unnecessary; I’m pregnant-brained as f*** and don’t want to deal with a big party. We also don’t want people to feel obligated to gift us stuff or money.

Cut to a year later. The twins are born and are a lovely handful. We are stressed beyond belief, but want to celebrate the occasion with friends. We invite everybody and celebrate the kid’s birthday, revealing at the party that we got married. Everybody is happy, we party, and again, life goes on. The kids grow and we are fully occupied with them.

They have just turned three. At their birthday party, one of the godparents asks us what we are doing about the wedding of my husband’s childhood best friend, mentioned earlier. We didn’t even know he was engaged, but we say, “How nice! No, we did not get the card yet! Do tell, when is the wedding?”

He pauses and then very carefully tells us the invite came six months ago, and the wedding is next month. The friend was being childish and wanted to pay us back for not telling him personally about our wedding before we married.

He seriously planned to have the wedding and just tell his wife, sister, and our whole circle of mutual friends that he gave us the invite personally while he just threw it away. He, and I quote him here, wanted to have his wedding and send us a picture afterwards to “see how it feels.”

As our godparent-friend was close with the friend’s sister and future wife, he got a very stern talking to and now we are invited. As we want to make his day special — as he values his wedding day more than we did ours — I am painting something for their special day and we will give some money for their honeymoon.

Still, amazing how petty a man in his forties can be.

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Wisdom Teeth Require The Wise To Remove Them

, , , , | Healthy | June 28, 2018

I go to the dentist to get my wisdom teeth out. I have had two shots already and the laughing gas on, no big problem. 

He starts trying to pull one tooth out that grew in crooked and I tell him that it is hurting. He gives me another shot, which should deaden it right then. He tells me not to be such a baby. Then, instead of being gentle and rocking it back and forth to loosen it before pulling it, he grabs a pair of pliers and snatches the tooth straight out of the gum!

He starts doing that with my other one on the same side. I bite the fire out of him. He has the nerve to tell my mom that I “need to be more prepared for a dental visit.” Not when one almost snatches your gums out of your mouth!  

I go straight from that dentist to one that treated me when I was a child. He is super nice, and he helps straighten out what the other one did to me. He takes one look in my mouth and says, “When was the last time you went to a dentist?” I reply, “I just came from one.”

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Don’t Be So Draft

, , , , , | Friendly | June 26, 2018

I go to a colonial fair at a working 18th-century living history farm in Northern Virginia about once or twice a year. The fairs, which are pretty popular, run once a season except in the winter. Because the fairs are popular, the farm tends not to have enough costumed interpreters for each station of the farm.

Once, I went with my family and there weren’t any living history interpreters at the old tobacco barn station. The tobacco barns of the 18th century looked pretty much like modern barns. However, there were roughly six-inch (15-centimeter) gaps between the boards that made up the siding of the barn. This was to allow air to pass through so the tobacco, hanging up above, could dry out properly.

My mom and I went inside the barn to check it out. A lady and her young daughter were looking around as well. It looked like a typical barn with just the barn doors, no windows, and the tobacco hanging up above our heads.

The young girl asked her mom why the boards were so far apart. The mom stated she didn’t know. What got me was what came out of her mouth next. She spoke to a man I’m pretty sure was her husband and stated, “No wonder they always complained that these old houses were so drafty! You can stick your hand between the boards!”

I really wanted to follow her to the actual house, a half-mile away from the barn, to see what she thought that was.

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