Quote:
Originally Posted by Halle
Woe is me I'm the mother of an English/Creative Writing/MIS major, he speaks two languages I don't understand. What ever happened to the sweet little boy I gave birth to? It is so disheartening to have your email corrected. 
Halle so not a English major. |
Ohhhh, Halle, it could be so much worse. Everything is relative, you know.
Sometimes those English major types turn into linguistics majors. Aaaaaaauuuuuugh!!!!!! Keep an eye on him. Remain alert. Watch for the telltale signs that he has changed his major to linguistics. You might need to do an intervention if he starts talking about structure-trees and looking around for blackboards to draw them on. It is a sad thing to watch. Linguistics majors still think there are blackboards somewhere.
But wait! I saw that you said, "MIS." I am not sure what that means. If it means Masters of Information Systems, it sounds like it will all work out fine.
But just in case, maybe you should try to get him interested in the world of advertising. And sometimes English majors go to law school.
It probably will work out just fine. Please do not worry too much about him.
But he really needs to rethink that email correcting thing. I have written before about a friend of mine who is not only an English major, but an English teacher. (The most besmirched of all the English majors.) Anyway, in our younger days, when she was still single, she would sometimes go with her friends to one of those meet markets -- aka a bar.
She was a clever English major because she knew exactly what to do when some guy started hitting on her by asking, "Hey, baby, what's your sign?"
If she thought he was kinda cute, she would tell him her sign. (A lot of English majors are Libras I bet.) And she would wait for the next question which was usually, "What do you do?"
And at that point, she would say, "I work for the phone company." (I don't know why she picked the phone company, but she always said that.)
Of course, if she thought he was a jerk or a loser, she would just say, "I am an English teacher." She knew that would guarantee that he would flee or at least move down a couple of barstools.
Later on, with the ones she liked, she could get them so lured in with her way with words that when she told them finally that she was, indeed, an English teacher, they were so hopelessly smitten that they understood and forgave her. (She eventually married a guy who came to fix her furnace. And fix it he did. And they lived happily ever after.)
But I digress and now must go work some more on the tax stuff.
Boomer