Words, words, words

My regular English II classes spent part of this week watching the Franco Zeffirelli version of Hamlet … which means that by eighth hour this afternoon, I was half-watching, half-listening to the DVD for the fourth time in three days.

Even when a young Mel Gibson* is involved, there is a limit to my attention span, and we had long since exceeded that limit this afternoon, so I quit watching the movie and began working on a letter of recommendation I’d promised to write for a friend, keeping one ear on the dialogue so I could pause the DVD as necessary to explain the confusing bits to my kids.

The outcome of this attempt at multitasking? An implausibly graceful, weirdly formal document with a distinct British-chick-lit vibe that sounded like what you’d get if you attempted to write a resume using nothing but phrases lifted from Jane Austen novels.

Only an English teacher….

Emily

* I refer, of course, to the pleasant-eye-candy incarnation of Gibson from the late ’80s and early ’90s, before the long-term effects of alcohol abuse destroyed both his sanity and his sex appeal.