Late Obfuscation

Okay. I don't know why I didn't see this blog meme/stuff on Friday. But I was kinda busy, anyway, so I'm posting it today ANYWAY. I'll give you guys three days to guess and speculate, as though there were a weekend in between the stories. So the point is this, the game is called Obfuscation, and it comes to us via Debbie via Patricia. I'm going to tell two true stories and one lie, and you are supposed to guess which story is made up from what you've learned about me through reading my weblog.

I'll tell the truth on Thursday. If you're my mom, you can't give away these stories. Everyone else feel free to speculate in the comments.

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Story #1: When I was a little girl, I used to like to take off all my clothes and run naked and shrieking down the street. My parents would have to chase me, catch me, and apologize to the neighbors for my freckley white behind exposure. My dad's nickname for me because of this habit was "Toodles leTrix the Stripper."

Story #2: Once, during my senior year of college in Washington State, I wrote a paper on Virginia Woolf's Orlando and Doris Lessing's Memoirs of a Survivor while I had a very bad head cold, and heavily medicated on antihistimines. As I wrote the paper, sitting at my computer, I had several moments where I sort of dozed off as I wrote, not really even stopping typing as it happened. I found a couple of letters "typed" to the end of the sentences I had fallen asleep on, actually. I finally finished the paper and went to bed without really reading it. The next day, clearheaded again, I tried and tried to read the paper to edit and make sure it was good. Each time I tried to read it, my head fogged up and I fell asleep again. I turned it in without really ever reading it all the way through. I got an "A." The funny part of the story is that both books are about alternate reality, reality-bending, truth being possibly stretched, and the paper was about the shifting nature of time in those stories. I still don't really remember much about the paper, but I finally did read it once later and it was actually pretty good.

Story #3: One of my most embarrassing "teaching moments" was a few years ago when I was teaching one of my first classes at Southwest Texas State University. As I stood up to lecture in my first TA gig (a class on the novel into Film, taught by a guy named Mark Hansen and featuring Sci-Fi) my long flowy hippy skirt caught on the lecture thingy (what are those things called-- podium)and ripped audibly up the back. Split right down the middle. I was holding the microphone, standing in front of about 100 students who had heard the rip and could see by the horrified look on my face that something had happened, even if they couldn't tell exactly what. Mark Hansen (the professor, who was a hunky cute young prof who used to have young female students constantly sucking on lollypops while he was lecturing, true!), and later got a new job at some Ivy League school and was a great mentor) stood behind me, laughing. The other TA, a woman who is still a good friend (Emily) walked behind me as I fled the room to the bathroom, right across the hall, and helped me until I could get some safety pins to temporarily fix the skirt. Once I got the pins from the departmental secretary (Karen!) I went back to teaching. Several sarcastic little brats from the front row of the class clapped as I came back. I stuck my tongue out at them. :)

Okay. So which two are the true ones, and which the fakety fake faker?