First off, Sandy was a brilliant teacher. Instead of learning facts about the lives of the Romantic Poets and regurgitating them for a test, Sandy taught us each poet's unique style and content, so that our test consisted of poems we had never seen before. Based on the "style and content," we had to tell her WHO WROTE IT! You see, I didn't just learn in Sandy's class, I learned how to think.
And I learned how to write. Sandy critiqued our papers as if each one was our graduate thesis. If it wasn't for her, all the appeal letters and grant applications that I've found myself writing (with little or no idea what the Hell I was doing) would never have raised a cent.
And even though I know this little blog o' mine is not going to be graded by Mrs. Nesbitt at the end of the semeseter - - at least I hope it isn't - - it was EXTREMELY disconcerting to find out that a Blog Readability Test I found over at Seduced by the New... gave ARE YOU THERE, BLOG the following reading level...
Cash Advance LoansWhen I read that, I almost went all "Whitney Houston" on my laptop!!
However, since the answer I received from the Blog Readability Test attaches a "Cash Advance Loans" link when you embed it on your site, I'm considering the source.
Yes, that's bitchy of me, but trashing the test is keeping me from freaking out, going all "Jeri Blank" on everyone and re-entering high school in order to learn how to write again! Oy...
P.S. Sandy Nesbitt also kept her room as a safe haven for all of us could have easily have been trampled by life at our little Southern high school. And she was the first person to tell me to my face that she would love me no matter what I did or what I told her. It was her way of telling me she knew I was gay and it was ok to come out to her.
But since everyone I had told up to that point in my life either sent me straight into therapy to "fix me" (my father) or stopped talking to me for awhile (my best friend), I couldn't bring myself to tell Sandy I was gay. But she was there for me. And for so many other kids. She truly saved my life.
P.S.S. If your blog gets a higher score than mine on the Blog Readability Test, congratulations! But be kind and don't tell me.
The rating is making me feel as dumb as Britney and more bad news might cause me to hit a car with an umbrella... or flash my junk as I get out of a cab... or sing GIMME GIMME at karaoke. Either way, it won't be pretty...