Besides, every time I learn something new, it pushes some old stuff out of my brain.

As I try to use an LCD projector for the first time in three years . . .

Me (muttering to myself): . . . so this plug goes here, and then I have to . . .

Elizabeth: Miss Huth?

Me (on my knees under a table): Uh huh? Hang on. I have to plug this in.

Katherine: Um . . . Miss?

Blanche: Are you sure that goes there?

Me: Yes. Absolutely. Of course.

Katherine: But the light isn't on, and the computer monitor is blinking.

Me: Yup. S'posed to do that.

Katherine: Hmmm. I don't think so.

Me (tightening connections): There. Right?

Katherine: Oh. Yup. It's stopped blinking.

Elizabeth: So why isn't the projector light coming on?

Blanche: I mean, the light is supposed to be on.

Me: Um, I know.

Blanche: I'm just sayin'.

Sara: She's fine! She'll get it!

Me: Thank you, Sara. I appreciate your support. And may I just say that if I had had access to an LCD projector during the last three years, I would have this new one set up in no time. It's lack of practice.

Katherine: Do you want me to get Mr. G.?

Me: Mr. G.? Ha! I can do this myself!

Elizabeth (under her breath): Yeah, maybe by the end of the class . . .

Me: Hey! I'm right here!

Elizabeth: I mean, I have great faith in your ability to make this thing project onto the screen.

Me: That's better. Thank you. And look, that's the little button to turn it on.

Thomas: So . . . there's no light.

Me: And your point?

Thomas: Well, there's supposed to be light.

Me: Thank you. Yes. I know.

(Elizabeth, Blanche, Sara, Katherine and several others posit theories on why there is no light.)

Katherine (cautiously, after several minutes): Um, did you turn on the main switch?

Me: What?

Katherine: The main switch on the side of the cart.

Me: What swi . . . ? Man. No. Jeez.

(Blanche flips the switch and the projector shoots out a beam of light partly onto the wall but mostly onto the ceiling.)

Me: May I just say that I do know how to use technology? I mean, I do have an iPhone . . .

Sara: It's okay, Miss Huth. We know it's been a while.

Blanche (patiently): So now we have to lower the projector so it projects onto the screen, not the ceiling. See? You have to unscrew these little legs in front . . .

Me (heavy sigh): Oy. So this is what I've become. . . Look, I at least know how to do that.

Katherine: It's okay. We know. Now let's look at that SUNY Plattsburgh website, okay?

Whoa, slow down there maestro. There's a "New" Mexico?

I've found myself with an unhealthy interest in my site meter. In particular, I enjoy checking the search words visitors have googled or yahooed to end up at my site. Unfortunately for them, this little blog never helps them with their search.

The most popular search by far is for "the noise next door," a punkish group from England, apparently. Little did I know. My blog's name refers merely to the occasional noise emanating from classrooms surrounding my very quiet one. If the visitor is British, Canadian or Indian, he is probably searching for this musical group. I suppose I should listen to them sometime.

The second most popular search is a fairly new phenomenon. If the visitor is from Florida, Texas, Tennessee, Georgia, New Mexico or Arizona, I can be pretty sure that he is looking for information about "tractor tattoos." Oy. Really? Hmmm.

Another popular search is for "fish scale purses." Those searching for "Mary Poppins spoons" end up at the same entry.

While it's easy enough for me to question why someone might be interested in learning about "fish scale underwear," "what black people smell like," "tattoo texting" or (most disturbing) "paying to be shot," I have to accept this fact: I'm the one writing about these topics. Okay, I may not even be aware that this is what I'm writing about, but nevertheless, search engines send people to me looking for information about things that are very strange, possibly illegal and certainly, at the least, in questionable taste.

It's enough to make me read my entries with an eye to potential search phrases. An entry I wrote on 16 June for my father mentions "wool skirt," "knee socks" and "Camelot" from Monty Python. I eagerly await the possibilities.