Thursday, August 31, 2006


arrggghhhhh KIDS!
There are two sayings that I never thought would literally happen but has, due to kids
1) I saw red
2) my hair stood on end.

I saw red on a teaching round once. I was at a really rough school teaching grade 5/6. There was this kid in the class who was 14 and bigger than the rest. Everyone was scared shitless of him. He was definitely a "problem child" and he used his fists often enough to prove it. One day I asked him to come to the board to write something down and on the way to the board he punched a kid in the head. I was so mad I saw red. It flashed and blurred my vision for a second. I felt like running over and grabbing problem child by the jumper and throwing him out the window (second storey) then jumping out after him and kicking him. Of couse problem child was actually taller than me and would have kicked my arse for sure, and I never would have done it anyway, but I'm just sayin'... You can take it from me, seeing red can happen.

My hair standing on end however was a more recent phenomenon. I've been so overworked, rushed, stressed and manic this week that when I came home today I looked at my hair and just laughed my head off. I looked like a hybrid between Albert Einstein and pig pen from Peanuts. I have no idea how it got like that except maybe that the electricity from my brain did something to the roots in my hair.

We started filming our movie project this week and my god I just hope our editor can do something to make it look somewhat cohesive and you know..good. It's been a fair effort considering that the kids wrote the script, storyboarded the action, filmed it, prepared lighting, composed music, produced and directed it - they will also edit it and transfer it to DVfilm. Of course it's amaturish but well, they're kids!

Our actors have been a godsend. Truly they have been so professional and wonderful what with the constant cutting (2 hours to film one 30 second segment?!!) and 2nd, 3rd, 20 takes. Through all this they never lose momentum or focus and have for the most part added something special to their roles. It's been a lot of fun and laughs (with many bloopers).


Dawson Leary (named for his obnoxious, self centeredness - editor) and Ed Wood (named for his utter crappness - camera man) have driven me insane. Dawson has an opinion about everything - usually the opinion is "that looks really bad, why can't you do a better job [insert name here]?". If I have to listen to his pedantic nit picking for one more second I will commit homicide. Meanwhile, Ed Wood almost got fired for being a hyperactive nutcase who lost the camera half way through filming. I knew where it was but wanted to see how long it took him to realise it was gone. It took him a while. Then he kept cutting off heads while shooting even though he insisted they were in shot. DUDE that's what the bloody LCD screen is for. Maybe it was his shortness, I don't know but I could have drunk a bottle of Bach Rescue Remedy right then and there and it would have done nothing to deliver me from the pain of controlling myself around him.

On top of this we have a lighting person who missed the one course on "lighting" that we did so she has no idea. A sound person with a little mouse voice, so that when she said "quiet on set" noone could actually hear her. A storyboarder who would rather be sketching in his notepad and a script writer who is at the moment in China (though, did a brilliant job while she was here). Producer and Director I can't fault.

Hair standing on end?

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Australian Idol

You have no fashion sense. You're not funny. You're not as mean or smart as Dicko and you fucking WISH! That's all.

Once upon a time you were Mary Magdalene in Jesus Christ Superstar. Once upon a time you were cool. Once upon a time you had credibility. Now you are the worst excuse for a judge I've ever seen. GET AN OPINION, WOMAN!

Quote from tonight's episode "you're a ziggidy boo from xanadu". Yeah, we realise the 60s were psychadelic man but you need to get another dealer - he is selling you some fucked up shit. PS: Get a life.

Australian Idol is back folks, this means I get to spend an inordinate amount of time bitching at the television set while simultaneously not being able to miss an episode. Do they pump crack through the speakers? Because every year I come back for more; hating on the judges and then wishing an audience member would blow the whole stadium up on the finale so noone can win. But hey, I still watch. It's like train wreck - can't tear the eyes away.

One of the contestants tonight

sang Under the Milky Way - by The Church. Great fucking song. Not a classic in the way that khe Sahn is because duh it's actually good - so a great choice really. Despite the fact that it looked like his skull vomited up some hair Bobby did an okay job of it. Well, perhaps okay is an overstatement. He did a job of it that was no better or worse than any of the other tripe on offer.

Kyle breaks out the old gem "great performance but a shit song". SHIT SONG? Mate, shit? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! Then Marcia and Mark both sing the "you're so ...unique but" vibe and Marcia even adds the old patronising "I really, really ..hope.. people vote for you". What is that? A pat on the back for the autistic kid? pfft. Okay, he did look a little...err..strange - but let's not try to pretend we're pushing for talent here. It's all about the face and chops! I'm not even sure why they keep letting people with a hint of a voice even go through the audition process - it's such a tease. In the end the finale is all bout Ocker "real Aussie blokes" who can't sing or dwarfs who can but are too ridiculous to ever have a real career.

Yay, Australian Idol is back!

I knew something fishy was going on!

Monday, August 28, 2006

stress and other stories.

A while ago #1 came back from OS with the news that she is pregnant! It turns out that her missed period during the Coldplay concert really was a baby and not just an annoying blip on the menstrual calendar (do people actually keep these things?). It's all very exciting news and I can't wait for it to be born. However, already the horror stories have started with the news that an aquaintance of ours couldn't even get her baby out because it was too big. Jesus Christ, we must be eating way too much chicken or some shit.

I think I am destined to be honorary aunt about 50 billion times before I have my own sperm doner baby. This morning I woke to the 60 minutes tick tock but realised it was my biological clock reminding me what a loser I am. What if I can't ever have them or just don't? What if I'm destined to be a mother in the teacher kind of way only? Do single guys ever think of this kind of baby stuff? I don't actually ever want to think about it, but it just keeps popping up. For girls, at some stage the talk moves from good shags to babies and the biological clock. As E says "ugh..I guess I gotta start squeezing them out at some point don't I?" Am I just rambling? yes, just checking.

Anyway that aside, I'm doing a lot of running around lately. There's a lot of furniture movement in the art room so the place is a ridiculous mess, I'm trying to coordinate the mural being put up but there seems to be dead ends everywhere I go, the clay work needs to be glazed and fired and that bloody pathway that never seems to be getting up off it's feet is still hanging over my head. There's just too much going on at the school that has to come first. The whole place is a shambles. The most pressing of all my stressors is the movie project - which I fear will give me some sort of an ulcer before time is up. Filming begins this week and then editing has to happen next week. I can't wait until the whole thing is over and I get my life back. There is too much other stuff happening this year for me to give this project what it really needs plus my group is always busy with high school transition stuff, various tournaments, interschool sport and their yearly concert. Coordinating them alone is murder, let alone the actual creative element of the project. I really don't handle stress very well I tend to bottle everything up until my insides are a festering mess. Then I emerge with a sword in my hand, fighting. It's just a shame that it only ever happens when a flame is lit under my arse. I only ever seem to get it together when all the chips are down. I really need to bring it together this week. Send good vibes my way please.

Today, I was running around tearing my hair out when I was stopped by a parent who told me that she was in a meeting the other day with a whole bunch of other parents they all agreed that their children love art so much more this year with me than they did last year with the other teacher - and they hoped I'd stay on in the art room for a while longer (actually the words were "if you aren't in the AR next year you'll have a protest on your hands"). Right at that moment that was exactly what I needed to hear.

If you're a parent, go on and say something nice to your child's teacher tomorrow. I guarrantee it'll make their day.

with the ocean washing over...

I was floudering in the stress of VCE in high school when I discovered Jeff Buckley. My father had just died and I was quietly having a little nervous breakdown my corner before emerging each morning for roll call. Good times. That year the album Grace quickly became one of the most played discs in my collection. Perhaps there was something noteworthy in the heartbreak and sadness in Jeff Buckley's voice that was so relevant at the time for me as well. I'd just listen splayed out on my bedroom floor with my eyes closed willing everything else to melt away. Of course the album always comes to an end and there you are blinking into the oncoming high beams that is the stark reality of life. But Grace helped somehow. I love it when you come across an album that is magnificent from the first chord to the very last fading note. Consequently I think Grace is an album I think everyone should have in their collection. If you don't, you need to go and get it.

My best friend at the time S was also into Jeff Buckley. Our musical tastes are actually quite different (still) so it was interesting that we both were caught in the Jeff Buckley web. We decided together that we were going to go see him in concert the next year, even though it was an over 18 event and we were both still going to be 17.

There was a slight anxiety about doing this. Neither of us had fake ID and a year earlier we had been thrown out of a pub for being underage. Okay, perhaps we could have planned it better than just walking past and deciding to 'give it a go'. In our doc martins and casuals we stuck out like sore thumbs. It also happened to be biker night that night at the pub which didn't do us any favours - 40 or 50 leather clad men with bushy mos and tattoos of snakes up their arms. Together we must have given the bouncers a real laugh as we looked for the "drink menus". I distinctly remember turning to S and saying um, how do they expect us to know what we want??!. She answered with a shrug uh, I dunno!. It was about then that a biker came over to us smiling (not so sweetly) and saying "hey supergirl" to S (who was wearing a superman T) and winking at me and before we could blush a hand came down on both our shoulders and we were told to get our arses out of there. Denied! We walked home laughing so hard we almost peed in our jeans.

It turns out our fears over being carded at the concert were exaggerated. We took our spots in the hall and waited for Jeff to come out. That concert that night was one of the best I have ever seen. I remember thinking to myself that I must have died because the experience was just that good. I had to keep reminding myself to breathe - just breathe while Jeff on stage stood caught with a halo of light shining around his head, and a voice like a hypnotic dream vibrating out into the crowd. Magic, really.

A year later Jeff Buckley drowned. A good friend and JB fan who took a creative writing class at uni with me hadn't yet heard. I whispered the news to her and she started crying and we hugged. Our lecturer, a rather underwealming published author, was unimpressed with our emotional outburst in the middle of one of his dreary monologues and told us to leave. We stood in the hallway for a bit feeling sad.

I hadn't really listened to Grace in a while until a couple of years ago. The whole album is so melancholy and stictly only for those willing and able to go on the mind trip it takes to get there and then to bring yourself back. It takes a gifted musician who is able to do that to his audience.

I think almost all the songs on the album have been my "favourites" at some point or another - from the hopeful sounds of the title track Grace to the gut wrenching Leonard Cohen cover of Hallelujah. All have got me at some point and tugged at my thoughts or soul or whatever it is that music touches so ...rightly.

The song I pick today is a relatively new favourite - I discovered it's beauty quite late - (probably about 2 years into listening the album). Sometimes songs get you only when you're ready for them. I hope you are - it's really a lovely one.

Dream Brother - Jeff Buckley

Powered by Castpost


Saturday, August 26, 2006

rant #7554

I've said it before so it's really no surprise when I say that I have little time for private schools and their shenanigans regarding 'extra funding' and the like. I'm a big supporter of state schools. I don't believe in paying through your teeth for an education. In fact I hate it. I believe education should be a right that everyone enjoys regardless of socio economic status. Not something that is held up like a carrot and dangled over the heads of families who can only just afford to make the ends meet after paying off their mortgage and bills every month (read: most of the population). Maybe it's because I went to a state school and so did most of my friends. We all got into university and/or the work force by working our arses off. I don't support buying your way into university and I will never support the boys club (or the sorority mothers club) shaking hands under the business table in order to give little Joey a go in big business. Fuck yas. I say.

So with that in mind you can imagine me so eloquently puking my guts out when I heard this little piece of news. It seems that Haileybury College, an elite (or so they say) school located in the outskirts of Melbourne has been poaching a number of high flying students from surrounding schools and offering them scholarships to study Haileybury. This, of course gives the school an instant chance when it comes to the much coveted top 20 position in those "best schools" lists. Not only that: If a school can afford to poach a whole volleyball team for an $18,000 a year scholarship then they have waaaay too much money to burn. Either they are not using their tuition as they should (on their students) or they are being given too much government funding (don't even get me started). It's also a slap in the face of those parents who scrimp and save and go without other things in order to send their children to these private schools, on a full tuition. Meanwhile teachers in government schools are oft found in the local stationary shop buying up pencils so their students have something to write with.

I realise campaining for students is a symptom of a larger problem of our schools trying to compete for funding and uni places - especially now that there are so many fee paying places (grr!!!). In order to be more attractive to prospective parents schools find themselves under pressure to offer an impressive (ridiculous) range of extra curricula activities, present an image of high academic success and show they have wide arms that reach right into the job market - that will ensure that John/Jane will have a little leg up should s/he need it. Life has never been fair, and money makes money and you may argue "if you got it, flaunt it" but that just pisses me off when it comes to something so important as education. What else do we have to give us a lift out of poverty but education (and health, mind you)? I prefer the playing field in these cases to be a little more fair. I find the whole mess sickening, really.

Friday, August 25, 2006

analyse THIS!

I always know I've had a decent sleep if I have vivid dreams. Of course the more vivid they are the harder I find it to wake up the next morning.. Last night was a doozy.

I was on a holiday by the seaside with some teachers from school and my good friends; E and L. All was well and good until Joe Pesci showed up. Now, any movie goer will tell you if Joe Pesci comes into scene it either means:

a) he's totally going to fuck someone's shit up.
b) he's going to crack a joke then fuck someone's shit up.

So, Joe walks in and targets me as his bitch (biatch??). He wasn't holding a crowbar but he started berrating me about how crap I was until I started sobbing. Then, standing behind me, he leans over and whispers something in my ear. I usually find this kind of thing really sexy but it was JP and he was about to fuck my shit up - so, no. He tells me that I have to hold up a bank for him and that all the money comes back to him. If it doesn't he's going to be "not very nice". Ohhh kay. I ask what the money is for and he eludes to the fact that it's going towards some sort of world take over plan involving planes. I do the only thing I know how to under pressue - I:

avoid, avoid, avoid.

So, I go sit down and watch a crappy performance of the prep children dancing to "Let's get it Started" by The Black Eyed Peas (?? yeah, I have no idea either) - except they didn't have music so the audience had to sing that "and the bass keeps runnin' runnin' and runnin' etc". And half way through I'm looking around the audotorium and JP is there doing that "I'm watching you" thing that DeNiro does in Meet the Parents. So I turn to the stage again and the preps are all rolling around on the floor (as they do) and all the teachers are trying to get them to behave.

I see one of my teacher friends so I go over to her and I'm trying to tell her that JP is psychotic but she kept bringing the conversation back to the crappy prep performance. I start getting all frustrated because noone is listening to me about my extremely important JP news and how he's trying to take over the world and use me as a pawn doing it! Then, I look behind me and JP's coming and this time he's holding the crowbar (in order to fuck my shit up no doubt) and then I wake up.

I guess I'm a little stressed out (and actually now I'm rocking in my chair and getting a little hysterical...and listening to Boney M - I blame YOU,phil)

Thursday, August 24, 2006

take 5.

It's not the caffeine, or lack thereof. You've found yourself awake at 3am or 4am or 5am, tossing under the covers and driving you from bed for months now. Most of the time you glance at the blinking display, roll over and fall back into dreams. Other times you are not so lucky, sighing into the pillow and fighting with Dream. This particular morn you wonder if the rain woke you or whether it was something else more sinister. Either could be true. Regardless, here you are once again, listening to the rain hit the roof. It begins as the kind of light shower where you can hear each individual droplet, the light pin pricks and the heavy thuds dancing against the buildings and road. You lay back you close your eyes to the shadows of the room and hear how each sound distinguishes itself from the next until suddenly it all changes and the rain comes together to form a consistent rolling sound. A parade of heeled footsteps. A clapping audience. A drum beat in a jazz tune. You can't be bothered thinking anymore. Wouldn't it be nice to just turn it off? You will the tune in your head to send you to sleep.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006


I haven't been feeling the best lately - not so much physically (though no coffee + period is not exactly the best way to live it up), but emotionally. I'm going through a bit of a self doubt phase. I feel like all my decisions are the wrong ones and there are few people in my life at the moment who are enjoying being emotionally manipulative about it. I don't really want to go into the details of it, but I don't believe you can be emotionally manipulated unless there's some truth in the matter. When does it become okay to just say fuck you all I'm going to do what I want! Is it ever okay? Is our first responsibility to ourselves or to the people who we love/love us?

If I look at it, I am typically selfish in some areas. For instance, my time is my time. If I don't want to do something I pretty much don't do it unless I feel like I *should*. On the other hand, sometimes when things I want to do inconvenience others I'll always be the one to step down and not do it even if it's something important to me. I tend to put other people's needs before my own and I do this to my own detriment. Unfortunately due to ..well a lot of different factors it can be damn easy to manipulate me into doing so. I've gotten better at being more kick arse but I've got a long way to go yet. Anyway, this general little fault about myself has been playing on my mind. I'm stressed. I'm sad. I'm stuck.

Also, I was talking to my mum the other day and she has sprung a little health concern of her own on me. It's stressing me out. I hate it when I can't fix things so that they work perfectly again. Why can't that happen?

Anyway, in order to take my mind off things I shamelessly stole this from enny.

Have you ever.....
Gotten stuck in an elevator? No - but I've always fantasised about being stuck in an elevator with some God of a man and then getting it on. Is that bad?

Egged a person? Yeah - muck up day was a good one for that. I was egged a plenty too. I remember when I was in year 9 at school and on their muck up day the year 12s got on the bus and blocked the doors so that they could get out first and egg us when we got off. I don't know how I escaped but I remember that feeling of terror really well.

Stalked someone to find out where they work or live? Nope. I never understand these people who can actually be bothered doing all that stuff. I mean, who cares? I have googled people though. Does that count?

Spent an entire day in nothing but your underwear? Yep!

Read some friends mail or other personal papers without them knowing? Not really. Oh okay, here's the confession. Quite a few years ago now, when I was in late high school. My cousin MT stored an old chest of hers in our garage. I went through that chest one summer and read all her teenage diaries. She wasn't that melodramatic. Mine however are full of woe and horror and bad depressive poetry.

Gone skinny dipping? Apart from as a kid? no.

Been in a fist fight? never! Lord, I wouldn't even know how excecute a fist fight. I've never been in a scrag fight - I'm more your "violence never solved anything" kind of girl. Though, if I was really angry, let me tell you none of those petty "not below the belt" rules would apply. I'm going for the family jewels!

Time you tripped? I pretty much go for a little trip every other day. I'm always carrying a coffee or something that spills delightfully all over me so that anyone who's watching gets a real good laugh. :/

Time you cleaned up the base of your toilet? Um...doesn't it just clean itself? eww. I dunno, but quite a while ago.

Gum you had? Extra apple flavour...before the dredded detox.

Pair of socks? I rarely wear sneakers so I rarely wear socks. I can't remember the last time. I think they were white ankle ones with pink on the heel and toe - how lala of me.

Beverage you had? ....green tea :(

Spur of the moment decision you made? This morning's lesson. lol.

Movie you watched? Thank you For Smoking It was a really good satire.

What would you.....
Say if your best friend told you they love you? As in romantic love? I'd say: I love you too hon but not in the naked way.

Right now.....
What are you wearing? oh god, great day for doing this. Little slip on shoes with ribbon bow (told you I like cute shoes), pants (um, sort of a cross between jeans and cargo I guess), a black 3/4 length sleeve top. Hair up with crocodile clips that prin said looked very beautiful and arty (read: shit).

What are you thinking? ...so much stuff yet to do *hyperventilate*.

What are you listening to? Sound of the heater blowing the oil pastel pictures to and fro on the wire in the AR.

What would you like to be listening to? You know, I'm actually quite content with that at the moment.

Are you annoyed by the length of this survey? Nah I'm procrastinating.

Are you tired? Dude, I've had no coffee or chocolate in the last 4.5 days, whaddya reckon?

How many people in the room? only me.

Any cuts or bruises on your body? surprisingly no.

Are there any animals in the room? no the kids left half an hour ago.

Are you eating anything? chocolate. no sorry, that was just in my DREAMS!

Monday, August 21, 2006

And the Ass saw...

When I was about 15 going on 21 I discovered Nick Cave. When I say discovered I mean, I knew of him and that he was around, but I'd never really contemplated him as anything more than an artist other people listened to. It wasn't until the summer of my mid teen years that I started realising that there was a big wide world of music around me outside the mainstream and this conscious shift all started with Nick Cave. I think you'll agree if a preppy girl is going to go dark, then Nick is about as dark as you're doing to get.

I remember clearly the first moment I really noticed him. It was in seeing the video clip to the terrifying Loverman. If you know the clip then you know why it would have made such an impact to a young teenage mind. Basically we have a near naked man crawling along the a shadowed floor, grimacing and screaming as if posessed. And there was I, a young thing just staring at Rage (TV) with my mouth hanging open and thinking it was so amazing and theatrical. From memory (and perhaps it wasn't like this but it's how I remember it anyway), that night they played three video clips in a row on Rage:

Black Hole Sun - Soundgarden
Loverman - Nick Cave
Violently Happy - Bjork.

That was the moment right there folks - the moment I changed. All songs and clips got me for different reasons but it was Loverman that I played over and over and over again until my parents got really...worried. I went through Nick Cave's back catalogue with gusto but really it was his Live Seeds album that did it for me. I couldn't believe that someone could be so raw and passionate and still be able to function as human - you could hear it resounding in the crowd and you could hear it in his voice, this primal language resonating that didn't even need words. I was so attracted. He totally got me.

It wasn't until a couple of years later that I got to see him live. It was one of the best live music experiences I've ever had. Before the set even started I remember looking at the man in front of me. He had his shirt off revealing raw finger nail welts bleeding right down into his pants and it was then before the show even started that I knew I wasn't in "Kansas" anymore. Nick Cave walked out with a champagne bottle in one hand, a glass in the other. He put them down on top of his piano, lit a cigarette and started to tell us a story about a girl. It was sublime. Unashamedly - right then, should a NC harem have existed then I would have joined it.

Let's face it. I'd still join it - the man gets better with age. He is one of those multi talented artists that not only dips his hand in at everything but is also good at it. I have loved his work it seems since forever, but you wouldn't really be a Melbournian if you didn't. He's become an institution without even meaning to.

I tossed and turned all night over which song to pick. In the end almost any song is as good as any other. But today, I think this is the kind of mood I'm in. Take from that what you will.

The Mercy Seat - Nick Cave

Powered by Castpost


Sunday, August 20, 2006

not miami..

Sunday should be reserved soley for leisurley dozing right up until mid morning while drooling into your pillow, followed by a long breakfast then back to bed with the paper and a pen to do the crossword. Maybe you'll emerge from the warm embrace of the doona in the early PM, go do a few things; shop, drop in on friends. Maybe you'll just sit around playing with your remote control or other noteworthy stiff objects for the rest of the day. All done with a smile on your face, because it's Sunday, it's almost spring, the sky is a deep blue, the day is yours and life is good.

Or, how's this? You get up at the crack of dawn because without caffine you have been yawning at people by 7pm. This means that when you finally get to say hello to your bedsheets there's no time for cuddling your pillow and pretending it's Alan Rickman; oh no, you have already fallen asleep! A good night's sleep means you get to hear the birds twittering in the trees the next morning, a rather foreign sound to untrained ear. You pop the kettle automatically but before you can reach for the coffee you realise it's not there anymore. It's been cleverly replaced by tea. Bloody peppermint tea. You try to go back to bed with the paper but all you can think about is what you don't have..

Last night someone casually mentioned fantales (the lolly) and you have not stopped thinking about them since. One mention has made your nether regions contract in food lust. You have already gone through the fantasy of being naked in a pool of caramelly ambrosia. Surely this is a joke, how can someone be this addicted to yummy goodness featuring chocolate and caffine? Two weeks isn't that long is it? Chriiiiist.

Do you have a vice? Does it rule you?

Friday, August 18, 2006

Random Schmandom

What is the world coming to when a belief you have held close to your heart for 10 years is shattered? I'm not quite sure how to take the news - should I be elated about the closure or dissapointed that I wasn't right? Of course I'm talking about the JonBenet Ramsey murder, commited by primary school teacher: John Mark Karr. He said that he loved her so much and although he wasn't "innocent" of the crime, she died accidentally. Yeah, kids just die accidentally after they've been raped, beaten and strangled! Oops. I love it how he's trying to rationalise it all by claiming that it was a kidnapping gone wrong. Ohhhhhh, just a kidnapping then. phew! At least it wasn't anything too serious.

Anyway, despite the fact that the guy has been arrested and confessed to the murder I still think the parents had something to do with it (what can I say? #47). Is this just a reaction to the fact that I was wrong or is there something in it? Maybe letting go of the belief that the parents were involved is sort of like trying to rid yourself of Catholicism. You know it ain't true but you still pray to God, Jesus and the holy virgin when things go down the poop chute (you know..just in case). Maybe the parents are just guilty of treating their child like an object instead of like a human and not of murder at all. I don't know.

Other news; I saw pictures of my perfect little house. It's all nestled in amoungst the trees and has a cute little crooked pathway leading up to the front door. It looks like a place that will hold many dusty bookshelves and a painting on the wall. It looks like it has many nooks and crannys in order for someone to hide in and stab me to death one night as I'm standing at the door ruffling through my too messy bag for my house keys. The big problem (apart from that)? It's in the sticks. I mean 40-50 minutes from the city. So, no that's not going to happen. But this brings up a certain question: what the hell do I really want? I'm extremely torn between cottage and modern apartment. How can someone be this contrary? They have nothing in common! Personality wise I am constantly torn between being in amoungst it and being left totally alone! I guess maybe I just want somewhere cosy - whatever the fuck that means.

Further non-news: I was reading over that 100 list and came to that point about giving up coffee. There are two things I live by in my pathetic little life and that's chocolate and coffee. Everything else can just slip away. But that's not normal is it? A girl should have more interests than legal stimulants like darning socks and perhaps pole dancing. I began thinking about all the headaches I've been getting and how my tummy hurts and how I feel tired just after waking up..and how yesterday I fell back asleep after I got up and had breakfast and didn't make it to school until the bell was going. This is the most unprofessional moment I've had in my teaching history (including that skirt incident with the grade 3s and 4s). I have decided then to go on a detox to cleanse my body of impurities and get back to...well I don't know what but I hear it's supposed to be good or something. Let me tell you how I'm going. It's day 1 9.36am (obviously working very hard here) and I feel like I'm going to DIE!!!! All information has said that the worst effects will be felt on day 2 and 3! Jesus christ, I don't think I can hack it! Furthermore, this morning, I walk into the staff room and what do I see in the biscuit jar? MONTE CARLOS! I work in a state school (are great schools!), if you think we EVER have goodies in the biscuit jar you're dreaming! We pay for our own instant coffee, mate! So you can imagine the horror on my face when I saw one of my all time favourites from the Arnott's Assorted pack just sitting there beckoning to me - eat me, eat me! I made myself a cup of bloomin' green tea and got the heck out. It's like God is punishing me for being good! I am not happy.

Other crap: This morn I was listening to Hughsey and Kate on the radio as I was shivering it up in my ultra furry pink dessing gown, sexy bed hair (haha) and having my porridge (without milk and sugar - for fucks sake). They had this guy nige54 (yeah, if you have written a book and you STILL have to go by a sobriquet because you don't want prospective employers to find out who you really are then you have problems) on who is a professional pick up artist. He was basically on there to tell the men of Melbourne that chicks dig the disinterested type who play games. Yep. Hughsey was totally into it but Kate gave him a real serve that sent him on the defensive. Did I mention I wanted to marry Kate Langbroek? Anyway, he was prattling on and on about how he can pick anyone up and how when he was in the US he picked up some chick who was HOTTTTTTT (cause that's the value of a woman you see) with the line: "The serving sizes in America are huge. I'm going to enjoy watching you try to eat through that plate and get that food in your little stomach". Apparently she was dazzled by his brilliance. She may have been mildly retarded, I don't know. He finished it off with .."and then we enjoyed another breakfast there together the next morning". CA CHING! SCORE! He sounds like a complete pratt, and pretty much any of the websites out there (including his own) confirm it.

The conversation that followed and I'm paraphrasing:
Kate: "well you sound like you really know what you're doing initially but I wonder if ...how are you like with relationships"
nige: "Oh, I'm not one of those guys that goes from girl to girl. I've just come off a gorgeous summer romance in the US! I'm either dating someone seriously or getting ready to marry them".
Kate: "Oh really?"
nige: "Yes (blahblahing about how what a relationship guy he is).
Kate: "Well, I'm just wondering how many times have you been ready to get married then?
Nige: (starting to say something - cut off)
Kate: "Cause I was ready to get married once and you know what? I actually did it! Have you?"
nige: (doing a Harold Holt and drowning).

It was awesome! The thing about the pick up artist is that it's all well and good until the girls grow up and get a clue. This is why the pick up artist's prime target is goes chicks under 25. This fact was further proven by the point that a woman who happened to be listening into this conversation piped up and said that she found nige amusing. oh whyyy? She said she was 33 and that kind of stuff would have worked on her when she was much younger but not now that she knows what she wants. Nige retorted that this woman just "thinks she understands the psychology of it" but actually if they met in person this kind of stuff would have her beaten. Lovely guy.

He finished off the interview slagging off Melbourne women for being too snobby (ie: has had no luck!) I don't know what makes Melbourne women different from the women anywhere else ('cept that we're probably not that willing to wear a gold bikini and fill parking meters) but I'm loving us!

And that's the end of my pathetic morning. I suppose I should pretend like I'm doing work eh?

*EDIT* you know what we had for morning tea in the staffroom? CAKE. bastards!

Wednesday, August 16, 2006


In all my years of journalling I have never done an actual 100 list. Sure I've made lists of this and that but never have they been numbered! A while ago Meg did one and I loved it so much that I thought I'd do one too. I've been working on it on and off for a bit.

1. I was in the choir in high school. I had to join an ensemble group because I studied an instrument. My first choice was taking up another instrument (like oboe) and joining the band - but my parents didn't want me taking up another instrument - so I joined the choir.

2. I loved being in the choir and kept doing it even after I quit piano. I can't sing for shit.

3. When I was in year 10, one of my mates at school killed herself. She wasn't an ultra close friend but we hung out sometimes. "They" said she died from an internal haemorrhage but everyone knew what really happened. She slit her wrists. Her sister had done the same thing a summer earlier. The bitchy girl group at school who teased her, cornered her and beat her up were all fake crying the day we found out at school. I hated them for that.

4. I have the cbg blog not because of the pictures but because I don't always have the right words to express how I feel.

5. My favourite class in year 7 at school was woodwork. Our woodwork teacher Mr K would keep us under control by yelling "shut up or I will sit on you!" while standing right over you so you could see up his nose. He was about 7 foot tall (or something). He meant it too. He was a big guy. I adored him. He was always lovely to me and said nice stuff about the idiotic things I made (a pelican pencil holder??). I was kind of shy, so I guess when the shy girl is interested in boy's stuff then it might make a 7 foot tall rough around the edges teacher a bit excited that he'd gotten through. I always found sanding, sawing and making such a cathartic experience.

6. As a child I was allowed to play with saws, nails, hammers and heavy machinery (no kidding). I was not, however allowed to have a ken doll.

7. I had several ways to counteract the non-ken doll experience. I took an old barbie, cut off her hair and dressed her as a boy - but her breasts got in her way. I used my brother's GI Joe doll, but he was just one of the small figurines and so I used him as Barbie's baby son instead. And, Inspector Gadget was only tall enough when I made his go-go gadget legs spring (not good enough!). In the end I gave up any hope of Barbie ever finding a suitable partner and just had her live alone and visit all her other Barbie friends and be a lady of leisure. Yes, eerie isn't it?

6. All through my childhood and teen years I was obsessed with dance.

7. I grew up thinking we were dirt poor, but looking back I realise we couldn't have been and indeed weren't. My parents always made a big deal about money. Many of the fights they had revolved around it. I hate money matters.

8. I never really had pocket money growing up. If I wanted something I had to ask especially and make a case for it. Often that was denied. It always bothered me not to have any independence in that way. I vowed to myself when I got my first job that I would never have to ask for money from anyone ever again unless I was destitute. When my married friends talk about having to ask their husbands if they can buy a pair of boots it almost gives me hives. Surely there is another way to organise money matters while still maintaining your dignity.

9. When I was 13 I went and opened my own personal bank account and my friends' mother signed for me. It was not at the same bank that my parents invested in. When I told my mother she hit the roof!

10. I am a last minute plan type girl. I hate thinking about things until I absolutely have to because there's no point to me unless it's happening right now. This drives pretty much everyone else nuts.

11. Guarranteed, if you've made plans with me more than 2 days in advance you will get a text message from me about 10 minutes before we're supposed to meet asking "when and where are we meeting again?".

12. I love coffee - I used to drink 12 cups a day. No I am not kidding you - 12. Then I went cold turkey and for 2 and a half years I did not touch the stuff at all. I drank herbal tea instead. The headaches I got in the first 3 months of initial withdrawal were horrific. I thought I was going to die. After that I didn't miss it at all. One day a friend convinced me to just have one and I was hooked like THAT. I'm glad I never got into drugs, can you imagine?

13. I had the world's biggest crush on my university lecturer for cultural studies. He was gay. What totally attracted me to him was the fact that he was so passionate about popular culture.

14. I pretty much always wear flats. It's rare to see me in a pair of heels - though I do sometimes go for it (always regretting). The most ridiculous sight in the world to me is seeing a beautifully made up woman from head to ankle in business attire followed by running shoes on her feet. Why would that happen? oh because heels are uncomfortable and you get to that stage in the day when you literally feel like you are going to DIE from the pain. I say fuck that. I love cute shoes. I have lots of cute shoes - they just tend to be kitten heels or just flat. I'm very audrey hepburn about it all.

15. I avoid looking in restroom mirrors. I don't know when this started but I can't look in the mirror without saying something really mean to myself. I guess I'm afraid I'm going to tear out the soap dispenser and throw it at my reflection if I get started on the hair and makeup in a restroom - so for the most part I tend to just avoid it.

16. I have a bit of a girl crush on Doris Day. Calamity Jane is one of my all time favourite musicals. It makes me a little sad that she conforms to the ideals of feminity at the end but at the same time it's also kind of cool because you still know she's good ol' Calam underneath. In the movie Love and other Catastrophes the lead characer Alice says that she's writing a thesis on Doris Day as a feminist warrior. I know it's a big joke but I love that idea! That, incidentally, was practically my life for a year, including the running away from supervisors bit. I was known to get up from a meal and just bolt if I saw my supervisor anywhere within the vicinity.

17. One of my favourite places in the world is inside a cinema. I love everything about the experience, the size of the screen, the darkened shadows, the sticky velour seats. Even when the movie is bad I still feel right at home because it just feels so right for me to be there. I have never met anyone who feels the same way about it as me. When I don't go for a while (like now..) I feel like something is missing in my life. Then I realise I just feel that way because I haven't been to the movies in a while so I go and it's all good again.

18. My first hair cut at a proper salon was an absolute tragedy. My mother held the belief that I should have short hair, (because she had short hair maybe) and when my hair reached half way down my back she dragged me to the hairdresser and they cut my hair into a bob. I remember crying my eyes out as I watched each little bunch of hair float downwards onto the linoleum. I was 7.

19. I don't have very many acquaintances. I belong to a few different circles of close friends.

20. I fiddle, a lot. I can't help twisting paper, doodling, twirling my hair, touching my face, twitching my leg, changing positions a million times in my seat etc. I drive people nuts. I guess it's the nervous tension.

21. On the other hand I've also been described as very laid back and calm. Maybe I pick my moments.

22. I like being barefoot. At home I kick off my shoes and spend the night padding around. I'm always sort of involuntarily dancing around or whatever and shoes are just dumb if you want to do that. I do have a pair of ballet shoes that I slip on if it's cold - they're sort of like socks in the way they give your feet movement without actually having to be barefoot.

23. I'm a toucher. If you hate being touched don't come near me. You know how they say that if someone touches you on the arm or flicks their hair it's a sign they like you? Well, that's a crock when it comes to me. I flick my hair becuase I fiddle and I touch because I like human contact. I'm always rubbing someone on the arm or poking them or something.

24. There is only one way to get from A to B and that is moving ridiculously fast without any regard for anyone in your way or even looking where you're going. I speed walk through shopping centres and down the street. I'm too fast for those automatic doors! I hate it when people mosey along looking at the scenery and being all lah di dah about things. T-t-t-t-today junior!

25. Some of my favourite weather is happening right now at the tail end of winter before spring comes in. The days are still fresh but they are sunny and mild too. In the evening the sy is a perfect cornflower blue before it turns crimson on the horizon.

26. I love wildflowers and the kinds of flowers you'd find in any old regular front garden. I love daisys - they're such happy flowers even if they are weeds. I adore fresh lavendar - just adore it!

27. I'm not afraid of challenging people on their point of view. If I dissagree I don't mean it personally but sometimes people take it as such.

28. When I was 16 my father died of a massive heart attack. I had been waiting for something to happen for a while. He was a smoker, drank a bit and enjoyed life (as they say). Something wasn't right. He had been restless, irritable and sick for about a week prior. He had kept me awake coughing his lungs out for about a year before that.

29. When I see people smoke I always have this urge to just walk up, snatch the cigarette out of their mouth, tear it in half and stamp on it just to see what they'd do. I also have this urge to give them a cuddle because it reminds me of my dad. It's weird.

30. I am terrible at sports. I can't catch, throw or run - plus, I don't want to. I loathe playing any kind of team sports with a passion and totally sympathise with the unco children who fake an illness to get out of PE. These kind of people are my inept sisters and brothers! Unite!

31. I am decidedly uncompetitive when it comes to pretty much everything except board games and card games where I will lie, cheat, steal and kill in order to win.

32. I like ridiculous things. The more ridiculous the better. If I hear that a movie is going to involve say...ooo.., snakes on a motherfucking plane taking everyone hostage then you can bet I've been planning my visit to the theatre for opening night for a while!

33. I'm not really into serious theatre as such but I love musicals. My love for them started at my Primary School where my music/art teacher was OBSESSED and we'd spend almost a whole year practising afterschool/weekends/lunchtimes/school time on one play. In the end it was so big we had to go to a week of performances and selling tickets (primary schools generally don't charge for tickets for school plays..it's usually a gold coin donation). From memory I think we charged 10-15 bucks. That was a lot of money in the 80s.

34. My core group of best friends has been the same since I was in year 7-10 at school. In fact I've probably lost touch with one person who was a friend in HS. The rest are still my friends.

35. I have one brother. We weren't always close but we are pretty close now. He's one of those ultra, ultra laid back kind of guys who always look like they're stoned. But he's not. Actually he's one of the funniest people I know and a total pop culture whore like me. He's probably owned thousands of DVDs but even he loses count because he keeps selling them and buying new ones.. He can be a real shit when he wants to be.

37. When I was about 17 or so, my best friend and cousin T (artist/nun cousin) decided to join the hari krishnas. I was a complete arse to her about it. She wanted to go live in their 'house'. I always throught that HKs were lovely, peaceful, tolerant people until that point - believe me after you get past the initial honeymoon period they aren't. They're a bunch of fascists who will stop at nothing to get you in.

38. After the intervention (oh yes) she went back to catholicism, but she found a separate "branch" to worship. I was a complete arse to her about it (I was not a very understanding teen when it came to religion). She told me that she wanted to be like Francis of Assisi - rejecting materialism, being sublime and devoting her life to god. I asked her if she believed in Godly type visions (a la Francis) and she said yes. I said "well what if someone like me was visited by god over someone like you? Being devout isn't goint to get you a vision" and she said if you saw a vision of God it wouldn't be God, it would be the Devil tricking you into darkness (I had been quite vocal of my rejection of catholicism for about 2 years at this stage). Depsite not believing in the devil I was highly offended.

39. I learned to be more understanding about religion. She learned to be less pious and now we're good friends again.

40. When I'm alone I sing along in the car full blast, headbanging, the whole bit. When I'm with others I totally clam up.

41. I prefer dinner, wine and conversation over pushing my way through a sweaty crowd at a nighclub and coming home with smoke in my hair.

42. I like people who are firey and have a good sense of humour.

43. I'm equally attracted (friends and otherwise) to people who are kind.

44. I can get pretty fired up about shit very easily and then lose interest just as easily. Fire signs are the worst for pulling that kind of crap.

45. I've never owned a cat or a dog. I had rabbits and ducks as pets (and of course fish). As a kid I begged for either a golden retriever/lab cross or just a lab. I love those kinds of dogs because they're helpers and they look kind of sweet and calm.

46. I am a bit terrified of big dogs that bark ferociously though. I also don't like little yappy dogs that go crazy if the doorbell goes. *I* don't go crazy if the doorbell goes, why should a dog?

47. I'm not always logical (see #46). I can be totally idealistic about things just because of a certain feeling I have about it rather than have a well thought out argument. Well, just...because... seems to work as an argument for me.

48. I have a very strong sense of justice. If something is unjust I am quickly irritated. For instance: It KILLS me to see people who don't work hard get the rewards over people who really bust a gut. I hate it how the quiet achiever is overlooked for the flashy freak.

49. I believe in ghosts. When I get into conversations about hauntings etc there is always someone in the group who is rolling their eyes and saying they don't believe in that shit. For me there IS no logical argument about it - Yes they exist now shut up and just accept it!

50. I'm notorious for not answering emails, text messages, phone calls (call backs), opening bills, paying my taxes or opening the front door. Yeah, it's horribly infuriating (for everyone else).

51. I wake up several times during the night and do a lot of tossing and turning while trying to get to sleep. If someone else is in the bed then I get a bit self conscious about it because I don't want to disturb them and give THEM a crappy night sleep too and so I find it even HARDER to get to sleep than normal.

52. I am so fascinated by gender relations. Sometimes I truly feel like we're in a war where noone understands eachother. I know that not all men are pigs but sometimes I really, truly do feel that actually..yeah they are. sorry :(. I've not really been shown otherwise.

53. I hate hot weather. I am known for my process of hibernation during the hottest days.

54. I *hate* waiting in the line at the bank. It drives me CRAZY to see a teller laughing it up instead of taking their place at the window and getting the line moving!

55. I want to bitch slap people who say "immigrants are coming in and taking all our jobs and living it up". You know what? Immigrants come in and do the shit jobs that Australian born citizens refuse to do! Australian born citizens who don't have a job and complain about this shit need to suck it up, get off the fucking dole and get one of those "shit jobs" themselves instead of thinking they're too good for them.

56. I keep all my Neil Gaiman Sandman comics still in plastic sleeves (nerd alert).

57. I adore reading people's blogs! I love reading about your day, about the mundane, the exciting, the opinions, the miscellany. I love it when bloggers get all firey about things and you can practically hear them ranting.

58. I get headaches regularly. If I get one I basically have to go to bed and sleep. There's nothing else that will make me better.

59. I am extremely sensitive so almost every touch is a tickle to me.

60. If I'm in a group with lots of loud people I tend to go very quiet. If I'm in a group with lots of quiet people I'm very quickly the loudest one.

61. Dominant male personalities turn me on, but if they are also arrogant I quickly lose interest. I loathe arrogance - it's one of those personality traits that stops people from actually caring about eachother. I am all for caring.

62. There are just some things I won't blog about and won't talk about. I don't care who you are, you can't make me, so there.

63. If someone compliments me I automatically think they are lying. Learning how to say "thank you" instead of arguing with people who compliment me has been such a hard hurdle for me to overcome. I was constantly told as a child that I couldn't trust anyone and that even if they said something nice to me they were only saying it to get something out of me not because they meant it. I guess I've had experiences that proved that to be true actually. My mother told me that only people who would ever really love me ever would be my parents. The trouble was most of the harshest things ever said to me in my life have come from my parents. This basically has fucked with my head.

64. I tend to be pretty much a no fuss kind of girl.

65. When I was 12 I gave my brother a crew cut in the bathroom. I thought it would look shit hot. I was half right; it looked shit. oops.

66. I hate getting up in the mornings. No matter what time it is I always wish for an extra few hours sleep. I like lying in bed thinking about my day before actually starting my day.

67. If I'm stressed about things I don't tend to face them head on. Instead I put them to the back of my mind and avoid thinking about them at all. This is not a good way to handle things.

68. Sometimes I wish I was back in uni. I had such a blast learning. Yes, I actually liked the academics!

69. When I was 11 I was walking in a shopping centre when a man came up and slapped me on the bottom (because he was a lecherous freak). I don't think I have ever felt so aware and ashamed of myself without even knowing why. I have had similar things happen to me including a man at a market just walking up and pinching my breast when I was 14 or so... and there have been many more worse things. I really struggle with wanting to view men as partners/friends/protectors and carers and actually seeing them as people who for the most part want to hurt me.

70. Journalling has actually helped me see that men are people too and can be nice. Thanks.

71. One of my all time favourite photos is of E and I completely sloshed off our faces at our year 12 formal. We are both singing into the camera and look hilarious (well I look like I'm on the way out and she looks really happy). We are each wearing one long silver glove we "borrowed" off a girl we didn't even know.

72. When I was about 12, M and I were at the local milkbar when we discovered that the lolly machine (you know the ones where you twist the handle and the lollies come out) worked without you having to put money in. We stood there for about 10 minutes twisting lollies into our pockets, when suddenly the milkbar owner ran outside yelling at us to leave it alone and that he'd tell our parents on us! M saw him a few years ago and he totally greased her off. Talk about holding a grudge. ha!

73. My all time favourite perfumes are chanel #5 followed by Anna sui (original).

74. My first job was working at a pizza shop as a waitress and on register. It was 6 men and me. There was a lot of verbal sexual harrassment going on.. It got so that I'd hyperventilate before going to work because I was so worked up about it. It was also shit pay and the customers were a bunch of arseholes. I have supreme admiration for anyone who works in the food industry.

75. When I was little my mother had this box of buttons. They were all shapes and sizes and different colours of the rainbow. I played with those buttons a lot. It's a bit strange now that I think of it. I loved sorting them, sticking them to things, sewing them etc. Weird.

76. I wasn't popular and I wasn't a total nerd in high school. I was just average nothingness. I look back on the experience with mostly fondness. I had a lot of fun. I had good friends and I remember most days being a laugh riot.

77. I have an excellent imagination and tend to live inside my head a lot. I get a bit pissed when people interrupt my lovely day dreams with their mundane matters.

78. I can be extremely sarcastic and cynical.

79. I am very good at procrastinating. S (who got married recently) used to ring me late the night before our assignments were due in hysterics because we both hadn't even started and then we'd both sit on the phone for hours talking about how we wished we wouldn't procrastinate so much.

80. E and I used to sit in art class in grade 10 and argue about which of us was the reincarntaion of Elvis.

81. I've never broken a bone, but I did sprain my ankle once trying to learn the dance moves in the movie Staying Alive in front of the TV. I was so embarrassed that I lied and said I hurt my leg when I tripped over trying to get to the phone.

82. It bothers me to no end that the characters from Lost will never be found (for fucks sake) yet I never found it annoying that Dr Samuel Beckett kept quantum leaping for years and years. In fact I never wanted him to go home!

83. I have a sick fascination with Gidget. She was quirky and fun.

84. I was obsessed with television while growing up. I Love Lucy was one of my favourite shows. She was such a ham. I always thought Ricky was such a stick in the mud. Why couldn't he just recognise that Lucy was unique and wonderful and stop going on at her all the time? Another favourite show was The Brady Bunch. I think I've seen every episode at least 5 times. I adore "The Brady Bunch Movie" and get all the craptastic in-jokes. I was also a fan of Bewitched and I Dream of Jeanie. I wanted to have magical powers too and used to send a lot of time "working on it" by learning how to wiggle my nose and flick my hair just right. I also pretended that our lounge was the inside of my little bottle, just like Jeannie.

85. I have a fear of falling, but not of heights. I love heights. Therefore climbing ladders freaks me out but standing on the top of the Eiffel is breathtaking.

86. I hate being on boats. I do not have sea legs. I have never been on a boat without feeling so sick that I wanted to die - including the large and small ferrys and even row boats!

87. Last 20 songs on ipod shuffle: One Night in Bangkok (from Chess), To Her Door (Paul Kelly), Big Time Sensuality (Bjork), Police and Thieves (The Clash), Burn (The Cure), Mailman (Soundgarden), Yellow Ledbetter (Pearl Jam), Mein Herr (Liza Minelli), Fall in a River (Badly Drawn Boy), One Way or Another (Blondie), Allegro (Tchaikovsky - Nutcracker), Sweet Jane (Cowboy Junkees), Livin' Thing (ELO), I've just seen a face (The Beatles), She Works Hard for the Money (Donna Summer), Smooth Criminal (Michael Jackson), In the Mind of The Bourgeois Reader (Sonic Youth), More than I Can (Jane Jenson), Children of the Revolution (T-Rex), Handsome Gretel (Babes in Toyland).

88. I hate Bono. I've tried to love him, but I can't. I think he's an absolute twat.

89. I miss the old Spice Girls (before they went belly up). I miss music girls as quirky superhero types instead of just boring old sex symbols :(

90. Whenever I did something remotely naughty my parents would threaten to send me to catholic boarding school. This terrified me even though it never was going to happen.

91. I like Hillary Clinton. I don't understand why people hate her so much.

92. A few of my very good friends (4?) have had eating disorders. In fact I don't know any girls who haven't starved themselves at some point because they felt fat or wanted to lose a couple of kilos.

93. I kept a blog for a while that included explicit sexual material in it. It has some of my best writing. I didn't keep it to titilate, some of it was very raw and confronting on many levels and never shared it for good reason. I actually dislike blogs that titilate in order to achieve popularity. It's such an obvious ploy. There has been a crossover of only two people who have read both. One of those people don't know that I know that they read it. hi :)

94. I am quite madly obsessed with the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice. Hello Mr Darcy in wet shirt!

95. Despite the fact that I am arguably the world's most cynical person I'm a great romantic idealist (this is a shame).

96. I never slept with a stuffed toy. I always felt I was missing out and that I should though, so I loaded my bed up with various stuffed toys every night but chucked them out within 10 minutes because it was too uncomfortable to actually sleep. I hate feeling smothered. I always thought I was so weird for never needing to sleep with a toy.

97. Sometimes when I'm in a line and there is a man in front of me that has broad shoulders and looks sturdy I feel like leaning forward against him and just exhaling into the back of his neck. I always struggle with not actually doing that.

98. I analysed my thoughts about teaching the other day. If I am honest I'm not in it becuase I'm dedicated to the idea of educating children academically (though that is part of it). I'm really in it because I want to help those children who are sad/have been hurt/abused. That kind of stuff breaks my heart.

99. I loved that grungy look in the 90s. I know it was unpretty in terms of girly femininity but it was however extremely comfortable (for women, finally!). Big t-shirts, a mini (or cords), a smack of red matt lippy and docs. duuuuuude!

100. In year 10 my best friend S and I both had a crush on the same boy. He had floppy dark hair and blue eyes. We were so love struck. Obviously nothing was ever going to happen so it was all just very fun and lighthearted. We made up a name for him; boyd, which stood for boy of your dreams. I still think of crushes as boyds.

Labels: , ,

Monday, August 14, 2006

deep in my heart there's a trembling question..

Apart from my father, the first man I really loved was Elvis Presley. I would have been about 8. I guess I was about 25 years too late for the Elvis Presley revolution, but it got me anyway. I was one of those children that went to the library and borrowed all the Elvis books I could find and then kept reborrowing them until in a way they became mine, even when I finally had to return them.

My first memory of Elvis Presley was of a huge black and white Jailhouse Rock poster in Author Cousin's bedroom. Before author cousin was actually an author he was just an obsessed Elvis fan too. I wasn't allowed to go anywhere near Author Cousin's bedroom so it was only by peeking through his open room door that I got my first glimpse. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect of it all that got me. Maybe I was just captivated by how striking Elvis was - that young, thin, hopeful performer. I don't know. But it got me, somehow that moment got me.

There are so many things I like about Elvis. I have read many a biography and I never, ever get tired of his life story. I would love to go do a tour or some kind and go visit his old haunts and places he grew up. To me there was something so amazing and interesting about the poverty he overcame to be famous but also the desperation to be better that he maintained throughout his career. He was always such a contrast to everything around him at the time, he was a contradiction unto even himself. He was a joke but sincere. A rich hillbilly. Generous with gifts and yet sometimes mean when it came to how he treated those around him. A womaniser and yet so loving and admiring towards those female role models in his life (mother, grandmother). Himself: a role model and a drug addict. A sex symbol and a sloth. I guess with Elvis the dictomy always exists. A good example is this: He died his hair black religiously, but actually he was closer to blonde. Even Elvis is a myth. He always wanted something more. He always wanted to rise above but kept getting swallowed back down. If you haven't read any Elvis literature go read Last Train to Memphis and the sequel Careless Love. They are both amazing reads for anyone who is a fan of music history - not just Elvis.

When I was younger Elvis was an obsession. I was a fanatic, but as I got older I appreciated the myth and the cultural significance of Elvis as a key player in musical America of the 50s, 60s and 70s. I am not one of those fans that is offended by Elvis the joke - but I can look beyond it. Having said that, I love that part of Elvis mythology. I love the fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches jokes. I love the sequins jumpsuit. I love the sweaty sideburns and the craptastic movies. I am fascinated by Elvis impersonators and crappy TV movies about his life. I find him hilarious. Nixon and FBI Elvis (!! - I'm also fascinated by Watergate). His death and surrounding hoopla. The religious lengths to which people will go to preserve his memory (impersonations, movies, posters, quotes ete). The utterly kitsch aspect of practically everything associated with him now. The post-Elvis representations of Elvis and references to Elvis in pop culture (Nick Cave - In the Ghetto, Movies like Mystery Train etc etc). I am a pop culture fanatic and America the beautiful is where popular culture really reached new heights. For me there is no bigger icon to popular culture than Elvis presley. There of course is also the sincerity to which people adore him. The historical aspect of his contribution to music. The fascinating life story alongside the myth. You can't call yourself a pop cuture fanatic until you've totally immersed yourself in Elvis. That's my view anyway. It's impossible to really encompass everything about him in any one representation of him though, the myth has gone beyond simply Elvis and into the pop cult stratosphere.

But he's more than the joke. He has created some amazing music - in many ways blurred the lines between white and black music and challenged the notion that only black musicians came from poverty. He truly has one of the most unique voices in American music. Beyond the ridiculous image there is something so touching and sincere. Elvis music has made me both laugh and cry because it has soul. Not all of it has soul - no. Actually alot of it is fluff but when you find the gems they are golden, really. Go search - it's not all Hound Dog.

I read a comment about Elvis once where it was said that Elvis might have been a joke but only until you heard him sing and then you realised that it was sincere and real. Everything else - all that other Elvis palaver - melts away. I think that's a fair comment actually. Years ago there used to be a community radio show on Sunday afternoons here that was soley dedicated to Elvis Presley songs - it went for two hours. Not many artists can sustain a weekly programme dedicated soley to their music, but Elvis can. I'm not talking about the music in the dumb hollywood movies he was pushed into by Col. Parker. I mean the real music - the raw blues, the gospel and his later music. For me, my favourite songs have either been his gospel songs (If I Can Dream) or his very, very early hits (Heartbreak Hotel, That's Alright Momma) where you can hear the deep resounding pull of the double bass.

And so to you Mr Presley, one of my most favourite songs of yours: Mystery Train - where dear readers if you close your eyes and still don't feel like you're on a train then I don't even wanna know ya.

Powered by Castpost

(honorable mentions: If I Can Dream, Heartbreak Hotel, Memories, In the Ghetto, Always on My Mind, Promised Land, That's Alright, Blue Moon, Burning Love, Edge of Reality, Viva Las Vegas, Such a Night, Don't be Cruel, Suspicious Minds


Sunday, August 13, 2006


I think I might have been Jewish in my past life. I like Fiddler on the roof, I know all the words to hava nagila (hebrew), I can pick up the dance steps like a pro, and aparently Rabbis *do it* for me. I also like saying "maseltov" though sometimes I get it wrong.

random: "hi what's your name?"
moi: "MASELTOV!!!!!!!!"


I have a few Jewish friends but S is the only one who has gotten married in an orthodox ceremony. S isn't actually an orthodox jew and her husband is against religion (neither of their families are orthodox either). It's funny how tradition plays such a big role in weddings though isn't it? They both quite happily chose the orthodox way of getting married. I don't know if you've ever been to a Jewish wedding ceremony but they are awesome! I am impressed by the difference in ritual and ceremony - well compared to the Catholics anyway. There's: Walking rings around your husband to be (love it! - surely you can do it once because the rest of the marriage it'll be the other way round, eh? eh?), glass smashing (love it!), Kippah (hilarious item of clothing - love them!), Fiddle player at the synagoge (LOVE, now I want my own personal fiddler - err- who follows me around everywhere), Jewish dancing (suspect am a star at it - or just really deluded), Rabbi (the funniest front man I've ever seen in a wedding ceremony. I was in tears!).

Weddings are fun but unless you actually love the person who's getting married they're a bit of a yawn fest (especially the ceremony - which unless the priest/rev/celebrant has a gift for humour (doubtful) then you're stuck high and dry reading ahead in the program hoping it will all be over soon. I wonder if the Jews would take me in? I can get that rolling of the tongue gutteral thing going, I know all the words to "Tradition" from Fiddler and enjoy a bit of melodrama every now and again (or always). Perhaps I've finally found my faith. Yeah, okay maybe not, but I can admire the glass smashing from afar.

The reception was an afternoon affair in a trendy part of town where within 2 minutes of sitting down we were asked to get up and shake our Hebrew dancing shoes and get down to Hava Nagila. I've been to weddings where there has been some mighty fine robot moves, and weddings where the nutbush was king, and weddings were you had to partner up (ugh - come on! have some sympathy for the pathetic spinsters damn you!). I grew up with circle dances so they're no big deal but boy do I love them. I think it's the community it creates. You're all in there holding sweaty hands with someone you've never met before but there's no awkwardness. It feels just right. I guess I wish life was more like a circle dance - one in, all in - who cares what religion/race/size/gender/sexuality you are. It's just very human. It's just very fun. But I guess life isn't really like that. Life is standing in your respective corners and looking over at the other groups with curiosity and suspicion. It doesn't have to be like that. But it is..look at the current conflicts going on.

The whole day was very fun. F was there and brought the new baby along. I think I'm in love - he isn't the little scrawny thing that came out of her a few weeks ago. He's chubby and adorable. I was completely captivated but his gorgeousness (we're actually talking baby pagent type gorgeous here). B also had her little rugrats there and they kept everyone amused with their funny dancing and peek-a-boos. The one thing that upset me was E's behaviour toward M. I adore E - she's a special, super intelligent, gorgeous, giving, fun, straight shooting and kind girl - but she's also a show pony and loud..sometimes too loud. For instance, when you're saying your good byes the last thing you want to hear is E shouting something not very nice across the reception ballroom about M who has taken the high road and chosen not to say or do anything. Now, the high road is also a bit passive aggressive at times but at least it isn't mean.

Apart from that: Mazeltov!

Saturday, August 12, 2006

morpheus got his bag of sand back..

I've been having rather strange dreams lately. I know enough to pay attention to my dreams, if nothing else then my subconscious is trying to tell me something.

#1 Melbourne 10 years in the future. I'm standing in my friend G's apartment in the city. It's new, spacious and white (a la A Clockwork Orange type "modernity"). We are both standing in front of her wall to wall windows overlooking 180 degrees of beautiful Melbourne skyline. It is a bright day and the sky is clear. G turns to me and says something but I never get to hear what that is: We are distracted by fireworks erupting directly in front of us. They make zooming and banging sounds.
Those aren't fireworks! I suddenly shout.
And we both dive head first onto the floor covering our heads as battle planes start shooting directly out of a large building like wasps coming out of a giant nest. Soon the sky is heavy with hundreds of planes, all of them diving or shooting directly at us. We are screaming and trying to decide whether the lounge will be enough protection.

I wake up.

#2 House. I really need to go to the loo (busting, as we say in the biz). I run to the toilet and suddenly I am ankle deep in urine. It flows under the door and out into the hallway. I am shouting sorry! to noone in particular and feeling so embarrassed.

I wake up.

#3 Farm. I am best friends with a talking cow/dog. Yes a cow that is also a dog...that talks. It keeps trying to hump me. I am not impressed and spend the dream either patting it on it's side in a decidedly "we are just friends and not hump mates" type way OR running away from it terrified.

I wake up.

#4 Shopping centre. I drive my car to the shopping centre but can't find a park anywhere. I circle the place several times hoping that one will just pop up but none ever do. There is a big sale on kitchen appliances and everyone is lining up. The queue is so long it goes outside the actual store. I double park and try to jump the queue by pretending to be friends with someone who is right at the front.

I wake up.

For fucks sake. #1 has really been haunting me for a whole week. I can't stop thinking about it. It was so real. (Bloody sexed up cow/dog is a close second).

Thursday, August 10, 2006

thoughts right now.

It's well and truly the end of the day. The sun has dissapeared behind the fence leaving the sky a muted blue and behind me in the distance is the occasional shriek of a child playing ball or running and hiding under the gum trees. Sometimes I like just sitting here at the conclusion of the day and just having a think. I never seem to have enough time to think. I remember last year I had this child in my grade (who was -and still is- a real handful). He was always getting into trouble and I was constantly putting him on the naughty bench during lunch play. One day he amused me greatly by whispering in confidence that he actually liked going there because it gave him time to think about all the things he had to do without having to be bothered by people talking to him all the time. I can relate. Sometimes I don't want to talk. I don't want to listen and I don't want to do. I just want to sit and think without anyone bothering me.

There's a lot to do - always a lot to do around here. So much work to evaluate, cupboards to clean through, requisites to order, a program to write. I'm thinking about that damn movie that we should have filmed by now and haven't. The furniture I promised that I'd sort out but havent. The pathway I need to build, the mural I need to assemble, people I need to see and help and relate with. All these things whirling around me faster than I can see them almost. It makes more sense to sit here and contemplate them - though that never got anyone anywhere.

I'm contemplating next year. Should I continue with the art role? Should I consolidate this year - will it be easier? Will anything ever be easier? Why should the concept of something being "easier" be so attractive anyway? The real question I guess is; do I have a choice? Prin is already wandering around oohing and ahhing about how great the displays are and what a great job I'm doing, I have a feeling that she won't want to let me go from this role in a hurry (there are other reasons too..maybe for another time). I know that parents are happy because they say such nice things and that the staff has been happy because I don't take too many days off and because they like seeing the art work around (my days off affect their time release). But I don't know if I am all that happy - and I don't know if that's because it's been hard in so many ways or because it's just not me to be an art teacher? I've been told that isolation and coming to grips with a specialist program is part of it all and that the second year is always better than the first - but who knows until you give it a go? And who knows if you're trapped until you actually are? I guess that's always been my problem. Taking chances.

I had a run in with some of the girls in grade 6 today. They were disrespecting ..well everything and everyone really so I kept them in at lunchtime and made them do a whole bunch of horrible menial tasks like scrubbing buckets and cleaning paintbrushes. This kind of thing happens every week and I'm over all the constant 'newness' of every grade as they come and go. The changeover is a killer because you've got to re-establish the rules every time. I almost spend more time enforing rules than I do being creative - and that is something I didn't expect, but have had confirmed by other specialist teachers that it's standard. I miss the everday meandering ebs and flows of having your own grade. Teaching a specialist subject is breakneck formula 1 speed stuff. Some days I'm up to it and some days I'm not - but if I had to be honest I guess it was always like that with everything I do. Who's to know if things will ever change?

I think about the things I like in this role. The chance to do something new. The enjoyment I get from seeing children create and the school beautified under my guidance. I like the ownership and the freedom I get to create and to teach my program without any outside interference and love the chance of getting OUT of the school every now and again to meet with the clay lady or the art supplier (I know, quite sad). I have grown a lot in some ways, become more confident when dealing with people and a budget but maybe I've put other things on hold to compensate for that...

With these thoughts right now I don't really know where to head. I'm stuck in the middle, as always, with nothing resolved and nothing doing..

Well, the sky has been slowly turning crimson as I've sat here near the fading light of the window to the outside world. The last scraggles from after care have gone home and I am no closer to having thought my way even through half the things I've wanted to than when I started. I guess it always happens like that.

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

bloody pissed off, mate.

One of the teachers from work has been taken to the hospital with various complications originating from a cold that started a while ago. This teacher works through every lunchtime, before and after school and is the coordinator for a whole bunch of "extra curricular" activities. I think pretty much most of us work through most lunchtimes, before and after school actually. Most of us run other programs and most of us work our arses off. Such is the life of a teacher - such is the life of anyone with good work ethic. The problem with M (you will remember her as the girl who went to see the psychologist while I went to see the psychic) is that she will run herself all over town when she is already run down.

I'm really worried about M. She's a good person and one of those gorgeous people that is lovely to everyone and will go out of her way to stop and chat if you look down or to help you out if you need some help. But for the love of god, if you are fucking sick STAY HOME AND GET BETTER! I can't tell you how much it gets my goat (what the fuck does that statement mean anyway?) when sick people come to work. I'm not talking about the odd sniffle here and there, I'm talking about those people that come to work and look like death, feel like death and complain about it the whole day long when really they could have just stayed home with a doctor's certificate and gotten better! I feel very little sympathy for the "troopers through illness". They're not impressive. They're not saintly. They're not better employees or better people to be around. They are disease carrying hosts infecting innocent people who are well enough to come to work. They are annoying carbunkles on the battleship of employment! Parasites sucking the rest of us dry with their constant martyr like behaviour. For the most part coming to work results in them not even being an effective member of the team because coherant thought tend to go out the window when you are unable to think straight ("am in such pain. owwww"). Then they top it up by getting so deathly ill that they end up taking even MORE days off than if they had just had the damn week in the first place!

Why do we congratulate these people with a pat on the back? They are doing nothing for the rest of us or themselves. They are doing nothing for the work force. They are doing nothing for staff morale. They are setting a terrible example to everyone else. Are they really unable to handle their workload if they take a day off? - This idea is ridiculous. Worse luck then someone with half a brain who actually DOES take a day off because gee, they're exercising their hard earned rights as an Australian worker to have sick pay (not much longer with IR laws though) that common sense person is looked down upon like they're some sort of slacker. UGH! I don't know how many times I have to say it but sick people at work are not productive! They just sort of sit there either
a) feeling really sick.
b) working but complaining about how sick they are and waiting for the "you're such a good person to BE HERE" pat on the back.

You know what? No pat on the back from me - stay the fuck home and get some rest instead. The world will go on without you for a few days eh? NOONE is that important, things will continue to get done regardless of whether you are there or not - sorry to break the bad news.

Anyway, I really needed to get that off my chest because it's been pissing me off for ages now. Back to your regularly scheduled bitching and moaning about television, 80s music and teacher pay next time.

*EDIT* oh and another thing - and this is worse than anything I've written about on this journal before. The powers that be are thinking of getting RID OF THE CHOCOLATE DRIVE next year. I don't think I need to tell you just how devistated I am. That means no more caramello koalas at crucial wrist slitting times. :(

Monday, August 07, 2006

fire thought she'd really rather be water instead.

Once upon a time, I was a piano girl. Me and my piano were best friends and worst enemies - whatever the relationship at the time it was impossible to think of me without thinking of my piano. I remember the day I got her; I was 5 going on 20, for various reasons..none of them good. In came piano to distract me. It was a deep brown shiny upright Alex.Steinbach with golden pedals and glistening keys of the black and white persuasion. I petted her with my small hands while I rested my ear to her side, stuggling to hear songs I had yet to compose I think. She lived in my room. I often woke and just looked at her when I should have been sleeping.

Much of my childhood is synonymous with piano girl memories. Practising, practising, practising until I hated her so much I couldn't think. Wanting to go play outside in the sun. Wanting to take a break. Wanting to be better at playing her. Wanting to be something else. Wanting to give away Mozart and Miriam Hyde. But, still - she was my friend: Sometimes my only one. I played her often with tears running down my cheeks, my only consolation after a bad day - and yet also with frustration, slamming down on the keys and stomping with my foot on the pedals, until I was asked to stop and settle down. Sometimes I forgot I was even playing her and could find me sitting on a cloud, eyes closed with my fingers resting lightly over the keys and a smile on my face.

For better or worse, when I was 13 I closed the lid forever. A decision that I'm not all together comfortable with, but it had more to do with me than feeling the pressure of expectations (though there was that too). It was about wanting to be more than piano girl - to be my own person with other interests. I wanted to be normal, everyday girl. There's a lot of unfinished business in that shiny old deep brown tomb with keys of the black and white persuasion. I left a lot of myself inside the piano when I walked away - I don't know if she can ever be pulled out.

It was a year or so after I gave up being piano girl that I discovered Tori Amos: another piano girl and I transfered all my piano love to her. A chance find of her solo debut album Little Earthquakes at the local library sealed my musical fate. I lost count of how many times I borrowed that album, but I fell in love with it at first listen.

I remember reading an article where Tori Amos said that she'd never write an album like Little Earthquakes again. She said it was like opening her diary and just reading straight from it, something that she wasn't keen to repeat. True enough, all her albums since have been overloaded with dizzy metaphors that are difficult to navigate.

I think with Tori, you either love or hate her. Mostly, if you have a penis you hate her (though not always true). If you don't like high pitched banshee type wailing you hate her. If you hate Kate Bush, you hate her (sometimes if you *really* love Kate Bush you hate Tori). So many reasons to hate her. I don't. I'm a follower of the holy trinity of Tori Amos, Neil Gaiman and Trent Reznor - which you will find many Tori fans are...but is another story entirely.

When I did my top 100 songs a year or so ago I had two Tori Amos songs in there Precious Things and Cooling. Precious Things is one of those songs that if you love her it's because she was already in your blood before you'd even heard a note. It's not an easy song (too passionate, too true, not commercial enough..) which is fine because I'm not an easy girl either.

I remember putting Cooling at #1 last year, but if you want the truth: Precious Things is the girl left in that piano when I put down the lid over her zebra stripe keys and walked away.

Precious Things - Tori Amos

Powered by Castpost


Sunday, August 06, 2006

Ms Quotegirl at your service.

me: We are constantly sign posted by this central identity of the aussie battler, the farmer, the drover and the settlers taming the wide brown land. Every time something good or bad happens we are reminded of this "little aussie battler" fellow - it's the only thing we're ever really asked to identify with - even if it means nothing. What do they have in Italy - do they even have a central ID?
Artist/Not-nun Cousin - that's always been very cute. Well, in Italy they have a few thousand years of civilisation and the Renaissance - so yeah.
Me: so, nothing more than that then? How sad for them.
I guess Oz has a bit to catch up on..

Me: hello! That weirdo guy just checked you out and now he's moving closer ..and oh my god he just winked at the back of your head!
E: ugh.
*silence. eating.*
E: Who the hell does he think he is? It's 4am. We're having our post-drunk eating binge at McDonalds. I have a diamond ring on the size of his head. What gives HIM the right to think he has a chance with ME? What part of me gave him any idea he can have a go? I don't even think he has a home! I greased him off for fucks sake. He is fucking dreaming. How DARE he!
Me: ...so, no chance then?
I guess not.

Prin: I don't know what I've done wrong. My daughters aren't married. I think it's because I never forced them to play with dolls when they were young girls!
Me: Well, S, I played with dolls and you don't see my Mother enjoying grandmotherhood now do you?
Prin: haha, yes I guess there isn't really much going on at work for the single girls. No good men.
Me: you need to hire someone lovely and very single. There are too many married guys at work!
Prin: I'll see what I can do. We'll get you sorted out!
Me: I was kidding!
S: oh but you refused my set up with P and now he's going out with that idiot secretary! We will all have to be on the lookout for you now.
Me: no, really - I'm just fine! I've decided on chocolate instead of men. Choclate is my friend!
Prin: Don't worry, we'll let you know if anyone nice comes to the front office - a quick announcement over the loud speaker
Me: oh god, this is getting out of hand. I don't want to come to work anymore. If I've gone missing you know I've hauled myself up somewhere rocking myself back to sanity.
ooh project!

Me: So I have to know T; what the hell happened with the nun thing? Why aren't you a nun?
T: I had to leave the "house".
Me: did you at least wear the habit?
T: ...no.
Me: damn. But why? What actually happened?

T: They were weird. Really....weird. They never did anything else but prayed and worked.
Me: err...they were fucking nuns! Of course they're weird! It isn't all Fraulein Maria, skipping off into the mountains you know
Though I'm sure if I was a nun I'd make that a priority.

Kid: Miss, my pet rabbit died on the Weekend.
Me: oh no! I'm so sorry. It's so sad when pets die - my fish: Moo Moo Head (*kids laughing hysterically at this*) died too. Then I think my other fish: Squishy Face might have killed off the new ones I put in the bowl. It was sad.
Kid: ...
Me: ...right, on with calling the roll then!
I don't think he was quite ready for that talk yet. oops.

Me: Today we're going to make a mistake painting. That's when someone makes a mistake on your page with paint and you turn the mistake into a masterpiece. Then you'll see that you don't need a new piece of paper every time you need a mistake
5 year old: WAAAAAAAAAH! But I don't want to make a mistake! NOOOOO. WAAAAAAAH! *tears literally coming out sideways*.
Me: That's a shame. Well, you're going to do it anyway!
He ended up loving it. damn kids *grumble*.

E: oh good you're finally here! Thank god!
Me: hm? sorry, always late - I know!
E: no, you're fine. It's just that L and I want to know about the guy that L was with on the weekend. We were both shitfaced and can't remember anything about him
L: What the hell did he look like? I've got a date with him in half an hour!
Me: Are you guys kidding? oh my god.
L: I just don't want to make the same mistake that I made last time and get my hopes up. That guy I went out with last week looked completely different without his pirate costume on!
Me: I feel sorry for this guy already.
He was lovely.

Bro: So what did you think of Michael Douglas?
Me: He was crap!
Bro: I wonder if the producers realise that they could have paid ANYONE to do the job MD did and saved on the MD price tag. He brought nothing to the role.
Me: Yeah, that's true. If they'd gotten someone like de Niro you know he would have nailed it!
Bro: I hate Michael Douglas.
Me: god, me too.
You, Me and Dupree.

R: I heard that in [insert another school name] they are patting down primary school age children as they're walking into the school. They've found knives and switch blades!
Me: you're kidding! That's so terrible. We're kind of lucky here aren't we?
R: Yes they've got that Dangerous Minds thing going on. Meanwhile we complain about classroom behaviour when our kids skip to class holding hands!
We *are* very lucky at my school.

J: This is one of the best schools I've CRTed at (emergency teaching).
Me: oh really?
J: Yeah the kids are lovely - you should see what's out there!
Me: So..what other schools are you at then? Go on!
J: I can't tell you, it's a code of ethics thing.
Me: J, please - I want to know!
J: nope sorry!
Me: *grumble*
J: okay, it starts with P.
Me: are you serious with this guessing game? No way *more grumbling*
J: hahahahahaha. I'm not telling.
Me: I'm not talking to you anymore!
J: So, I went to see a really good movie the other day. You would *love* it.
Me: oh? What was it?
J: well, I can't tell you. ...It starts with J.
Me: oh my god, you suck!
I am VERY easy to rile up.

Me: oh RO, you look absolutely wonderful! Look, you're glowing! We all look like hell, but you look stunning!
RO: It's amazing what not teaching for 4 months will do for you.
They say that wrinkles dissapear and it takes 10 years off your life!