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::sighs::
I'm not sure what I regret more... the shot about the grammar, or that I spelt something wrong in it. (And before anyone bitches about the word "spelt", it's an acceptable alternative in British and Canadian English. If you object to the use of non-American English, sod off, this is not the blog for you.)
Yes, the shot about the grammar was petty. And in retrospect, I probably would choose not to make it again. But damn that bugs me. It's not that hard a rule to memorize. And it's so common.
My problem is that I often have problems holding myself back from aiming at a moving target. Especially ones who paint the bulls-eye on themselves with fluorescent paint.
I was in at Seneca in the second in-class semester of my tech writing certificate when Bernie died. It was an incredibly difficult period of time in my life. I'd rather re-live the horrible months between realizing that my marriage was suffocating me and the day my ex told me he'd given up than go through that few months again.
I completely lost track of the semester. I managed to get myself together before it got critical, and still managed to get my certificate, with Honours. However, there was one class that, while I didn't fail it, I tanked fairly badly on. And that was a consequence of my choices about that class.
It was an ill-conceived class, or at least it had potential it never reached because of the way the concept was interpreted. The teacher was a very sweet woman who was completely ineffectual. I missed the first class because of car trouble, and the second class because of the funerals. At the third class, I was not in good shape emotionally. The subject matter and the method of instruction were both ridiculous. And I have a tragically well-honed sense of the ridiculous. I felt very very guilty after that class, because the woman was very nice (I don't think she was aware of what was happening) - just not at all capable of teaching the class. And we really weren't kind or at all merciful.
I decided to opt out of most of the rest of the semester. I didn't feel I'd be able to hold back in her class, especially since it wasn't a solitary sport. And I was so down about Bernie that I knew I couldn't add more negative emotion - like the guilt - to that.
I don't feel especially bad about my original post (spelling snark aside). It was well deserved and, IMHO, well-aimed. Perhaps, though, the last one, in response to hers, wasn't well done of me -- especially since there was nothing of substance in it.
However, thinking back about that class four years ago, and my responses today, I think I've made some progress. I thought about everything I said, and I did have limits that I tried (successfully I hope) to not cross. So maybe there's hope for me.
Yes, the shot about the grammar was petty. And in retrospect, I probably would choose not to make it again. But damn that bugs me. It's not that hard a rule to memorize. And it's so common.
My problem is that I often have problems holding myself back from aiming at a moving target. Especially ones who paint the bulls-eye on themselves with fluorescent paint.
I was in at Seneca in the second in-class semester of my tech writing certificate when Bernie died. It was an incredibly difficult period of time in my life. I'd rather re-live the horrible months between realizing that my marriage was suffocating me and the day my ex told me he'd given up than go through that few months again.
I completely lost track of the semester. I managed to get myself together before it got critical, and still managed to get my certificate, with Honours. However, there was one class that, while I didn't fail it, I tanked fairly badly on. And that was a consequence of my choices about that class.
It was an ill-conceived class, or at least it had potential it never reached because of the way the concept was interpreted. The teacher was a very sweet woman who was completely ineffectual. I missed the first class because of car trouble, and the second class because of the funerals. At the third class, I was not in good shape emotionally. The subject matter and the method of instruction were both ridiculous. And I have a tragically well-honed sense of the ridiculous. I felt very very guilty after that class, because the woman was very nice (I don't think she was aware of what was happening) - just not at all capable of teaching the class. And we really weren't kind or at all merciful.
I decided to opt out of most of the rest of the semester. I didn't feel I'd be able to hold back in her class, especially since it wasn't a solitary sport. And I was so down about Bernie that I knew I couldn't add more negative emotion - like the guilt - to that.
I don't feel especially bad about my original post (spelling snark aside). It was well deserved and, IMHO, well-aimed. Perhaps, though, the last one, in response to hers, wasn't well done of me -- especially since there was nothing of substance in it.
However, thinking back about that class four years ago, and my responses today, I think I've made some progress. I thought about everything I said, and I did have limits that I tried (successfully I hope) to not cross. So maybe there's hope for me.