Generation Worst.

As much as I dislike teacher kitsch, such as crafty holiday sweaters, or the keychain I found in my mailbox today ("5 Reasons Why I Became a Teacher: 1. weekends; 2. snow days; 3. Easter vacation; 4. Christmas vacation; 5. summer vacation"), two facepalm-inducing events today have forced me to consider purchasing one of those ceramic jars labelled Ashes of former students.

Colleagues: drink the pain away.

1. The huge number of female 11th graders who thought it was a good idea to turn in a final portfolio with a picture of themselves posed semi-provocatively on the cover page astounds and disturbs me. To be fair, I never said not to do this. To be fairer, it ought to go without saying that the world is not Myspace; your English teacher knows what you look like, and she would prefer not to be saddled with 90 softcore child pornfolios.

2. And then there's "Cloud 9," a haiku homage not written for Caryl Churchill:

Cloud 9

High up in the sky

Sitting on cloud 9 is fly

I am really high

This author did not include a picture of himself (because I'll see him again next year), but he did title his project "A Poem to Share is a Poem that Cares." I hesitate to even assume he used personification intentionally, but at least he gets rhyming. And it's not like the only thing he consistently excelled in this year was being a huge waste of time and space -- he also inspired me to write a haiku of my own.

Cloudy, With a Chance of FAIL

This is why you got
ninety out of two-forty.
How fly is that, bitch?