Jul 03
I had some great professors in college, although even the best of them made me want to fashion voodoo dolls from old leg warmers (hey, it was the 80s) and spend afternoons slashing their little voodoo term papers with a thick red pen. One I remember quite vividly is my freshman English Lit. professor. I had spent tons of time on a paper that was returned to me with a pulsating “C” on it. “What gives?!” I thought and marched up to her desk, requesting an explanation for why she panned my 18-yea
