[Miscellany]

Not quite sure if I have enough readers to attempt a Vox Pop but humour me if you happen to stumble upon this question while searching for err... "four clip fucking" for instance (whatever that is)...you know who you are).

Labels: answers, community, conversations, oh I don't know., opinions, questions, showering, vox pop

posted by M at 11:32 pm 16 comments

*child screaming somewhere in the background*
bro - ...I hate those fucking whiny kids. That is one annoying sound.
me - you think THAT'S annoying? Multiply the sound by about a zillion times and keep it going for 45 minutes straight and you have that tantrum boy I had to deal with today.
bro - God.
me - yeah, tell me about it.
bro - what you should do is hire an inside man to pretend to be a prep.
me - WTF? Like a 25 year old Billy Maddison guy?
bro - no, no hear me out this is a good plan. You get this midget to pretend to be one of them and he can influence them. He'd be in your pocket the whole time and every time you want the kids to do something you tell midget guy and he'll set it up for you from the inside. He can be their little ring leader but really he's working for you.
me - .....that is not a bad idea. Where do I get a midget from?

The situation with the grades next year has gotten very bad. My grade is loaded with tough cases to the point where I'm about to just walk and not look back. I truly wish I could, but in the end I'm a dreamer with my feet planted firmly in the practical. I can't afford to just quit my job. What is upsetting me about the situation is not so much the "hard grade" itself it's the fact that things could be swapped around so that everyone has even grades but it's not being done, it's that I've had two changes to my grade which have both brought in even more tough kids and seen leave nicer ones and my grade was ALREADY loaded beforehand, it's the fact that I'm not being listened to and supported now which means I will be left to fend for myself next year also.

I know what it looks like when you have an unruly grade and I'm already battling with the stigma of being the art teacher going in to teach a grade. This is a huge stigma to deal with despite the fact that I've been a prep teacher before and I pretty much specialise in the early years of schooling. It's where my expertise are. People have short memories though and I know this more than anyone. The last thing I want as a professional is for my grade to be loaded to the point where people will look at them and judge everything I do MORE harshly than usual. It will have impact on my future teaching career because parents are notorious and terrible gossips out in the yard. Of course we will judge their parenting skills too, so I understand this is not a one way street - it's just that they can keep on having kids even if they are shit parents (see Britney Spears) whereas if the parents complain too loudly about us we get a bad name and parents start protesting about being in our grade. It can have devastating consequences as the teaching industry is actually a small one in terms of gossip, things tend to stick. You can go to a whole new school and everyone will know about your past - good or bad - within a month. Having a grade loaded with "issues" is like someone giving you a portfolio to work on that has little chance of succeeding. I mean sure, you deal with the situation and maybe inspiration will strike and you can beat things down but at the same time, if your end of year bonus depends on making it work and you can't because well, it was always set up to fail then you're certainly not going to be given MORE of a chance the next year are you...you'll probably get dumped with the crappy cases again.

Anyway the whole thing has really just depressed me. I'll just add it to the list of shitty things that have been going on lately.. I can't think of anything genuinely nice that has happened to me in ...well a very long time. God knows I've tried to rectify my myriad of dicey situations but to no avail.. I need a stiff drink.

Labels: bro, conversations, school, stressed teachers, teacher dramas, teaching, wonderings

posted by M at 9:24 pm 22 comments

Today I went to do my civic duty by voting I witnessed something so horrific that 4 hours later I'm still not sure I'm over it. There was NO sausage sizzle at the polling booth. Cake stall; yes. Sausage Sizzle; NO. How can they call themselves a polling booth if they don't offer a lovely burnt to perfection with a choice of tomato sauce with or without onions sausage sizzle? I don't understand how they sleep at night. I'm just disappointed and upset by the whole thing and feel it is all very unAustralian. Even if I personally am not partaking in the sausage fest then I like to know that others in my electorate have the option to chow down if they want. Cake stall: Who wants a flipping cake stall? There's no enjoyment in a fruitcake...not like a nice hot sausage between a slice of tip top bread dripping with sauce and creating a sense of community spirit when you all stand around and laugh at the cronies handing out the vote Liberal pamphlets.

I know that the school I work at is having a sausage sizzle because I had to paint the bloody sign informing the general public of the event, so it confuses me that my local isn't having one. Who are these barbarians?

So, yes - it's election day. We have a choice between an ear wax eater and a man who has never invited his own deputy over for tea in the last 10+ years of working together. Fuck all other policies - I mean the fact Howard is war mongering, semi-retired, cricket loving, upper middle class serving man who enjoys being sodomized by the US Prez has a lot to do with it too - but the dinner thing well, I think that's just disgraceful. Mrs Howard has come out and said that she and the hon. Johnny haven't invited Pete and wife over for tea because they don't ever have foursomes at their home for dinner parties. Yes, this was the official bullshit excuse. It's not like they have to be best friends or anything but I assumed that there would be some bond to speak of since they are running the country together. After all, if the Libs stay in power the reigns will be handed over to Pete in a minute. Good to know there's a lot of communication going on between them behind closed doors so a smooth transition happens. No thanks, I voted for ear wax guy instead. At least we know his ears are clean enough to listen...well, they are NOW.

EDIT - convo I had with my bro earlier.

bro - so hey, I think this girl thought I was stalking her.
me - um...whaaa?
bro - yeah, it was the other day when I was meeting you for dinner and I got off the bus at a different spot from where I usually do so I could walk to the restaurant.
me - okay...
bro - anyway, I think this girl thought I was following her.
me - *laughing* riiight, did she stare at you or something?
bro - yeah, she was looking over her shoulder at me while I was walking behind her. She was really freaked out.
me - no shit *laughing*.
bro - it's not funny! I don't want to be a stalker
me - *laughing even harder* whatever. So what happened?
bro - she ran.
me - RAN? Like....ran?
bro - yeah, the thing is I tried to walk slower so that it wouldn't freak her out and then I thought I'd cross the road so I was away from her but at the last second she crossed too - so it looked like I was following her across the road. She saw me do it and then she ran.
me - oh my god, that's tragic. You stalking bastard, you have fucked her shit up good.
bro - why does she have to be so paranoid?
me - are you fucking kidding me? You have no idea what it's like to be a girl walking down a deserted street alone? If I hear heavy footsteps behind me I always grab my keys and hold them between my fingers, ready to punch. I always walk faster. I can't believe you don't know this!
bro - yeah, but that's just you.
me - bullshit, you fuck.
bro - but I'm not a stalker! I'm not doing anything wrong.
me - duh, you're just there, that's enough. She doesn't know you. She doesn't care who you are. You're just some guy walking down a totally deserted street behind her. It's not like it was in the middle of Collins St or something. You're asking her to trust you to walk behind her when in the real world women walking alone down a deserted street might be rape victims. Especially around THAT area. Why would she trust YOU?
bro - I didn't ask her to trust me! I just don't want her to freak out.
me - yeah, well maybe in a society where men don't prey on women she could walk down the street without freaking out.
bro - yeah, I know that this is an issue but...
me - sure, you *know* it's an issue but it's not something you actually ever have to deal with. It's not part of your reality of walking alone. It's part of her reality. Okay, you will rarely see a woman actually RUN but they're probably thinking 'hm..this could be dodgy, or 'oh shit' somewhere in their heads. Just because women don't always show their fear doesn't mean they aren't scared. She might have had an experience with an attacker or maybe her friend did.
bro - yeah well, I'm just saying I'm not a stalker.
me - well stop stalking people then.
bro - you suck.
me - yeah, bring it up at the next meeting of the men's alliance when you're talking about ruling the world hahahaha.
bro - haha, you're an idiot. But seriously, now I have a problem
me - what's that?
bro - I take her bus everyday. So every day from now on I have to deal with her thinking that I'm stalking her.
me - hahaha, that rules. Are you going to be like "hey I noticed you thought I was stalking you the other day but I just wanted you to know that I'm really normal".
bro - haha, noooo
me - go on, it would be cool. See if she reports you.
bro - I can't believe I have to deal with this shit now. I did nothing wrong.
me - yeah yeah whatever, no sympathy for stalkers.

Labels: bro, conversations, disgust, election day, gender stuff, girls and women, petty, political musings, rape, sausage sizzle, yes I am taking politics, Yoko woman

posted by M at 12:55 pm 22 comments

* Saturday morning in Melbourne town saw me braving the western subs for a bit of brekkie, coffee - and apparently a trip of self discovery. For it was on this day while perusing the more unsavory of the Melbourne newspapers that I spied a "What Kind Of Personality Are You?" type test. Being a student of psychology and no stranger to the myriad of different personality tests out there - pushed on me via the route of "lab requirements" of unimelb undergrad psych, I thought what any other sane and rational person would think when faced with a personality test in their morning paper; oh goodie!.

With only 12 questions the test promised to tell me who I was. Since I'm always up for being told who or what I am I looked around left and right, before quickly pocketing the offending page and quickly finishing off my eggs.

So I took the test and here's what I found out:

I display very high levels of Neuroticism and Openness and high levels of Agreeableness. I score quite low on Conscientiousness and Extraversion. All this seems by and large on the money. I am a worrier, analytical and a thinker hence the neurotic label. Indeed I'm also very open to different kinds of people and ideas. I have strong opinions but am not actually judgemental when it comes down to it - which all apparently makes me 'open'. Agreeableness is related to being sympathetic and helping others (hello! Teacher!). I'm not known for being organised, methodological or being anally retentive and am also not known for screaming 'here I am' when I enter a room so it's only fair I score low on Extraversion and conscientiousness.

All this, I have no issue with - but then I had a look at the pictures which accompanied the personality blurbs. This is what represents me.

Yeah, hi that's the Neurotic me a cross between Herman Munster and THE GRINCH. Don't make any sudden movements or I'll rain all over you with my big black cloud of doom. I'm so Emo, now where the hell is my blacker than black eyeliner?

Hi again, when I read 'open' I thought, open to new ideas and all people - but apparently it just means that I'm about to join the Ralean sect. It also means I am a little bit wacko (look into my eyes...if you can find my wonky pupils that is) and am either into mooncakes or have stolen some kind of meterorite from the astronomical section of the Scienceworks museum. We've been observing your earth, and we'd like to make contact with youuuu.

Oh, I'm so huggy aren't I? Come here, let me hug you! Come onnnnnnn! COME HERE I WANT TO HUG YOU!! I WAAANNNNAA HUUUUUUG!! PLEASE SNUGGLE WITH ME!!! WHERE ARE YOU GOING? Where?.... oh.. :( Actually, ..there is a reason why I have the profile photo that I do.

So yes, after seeing those pictures I felt very well adjusted and normal didn't I? Don't worry about me - my recipe is apparently: One part Herman Munster, One part alien worshiping wack job and One part little Miss "I Psychotically love you to DEATH". Stir with swivel stick, drink and call the paramedics immediately.

* Anyway I was a tad traumatised after doing the test so was looking forward to some friendly company at dinner that night. Finally the group was going to meet L's new man. He was lovely and it was also lovely to see my friend B, who was down from QLD for a visit. Bonus of Bonuses, she turned up to the dinner with my star chart (she's a qualified astrologer). Oh goodie, another personality test - without actually having to take the test! Anyway, she starts the conversation with "you're a dark horse aren't you?" and ends with "we've been underestimating you for a long time" - which, may I add makes me feel like a bit of a fraud for some reason. Everyone went a little silent and looked at me quizzically for a while (trying to figure out my dark horse side, probably). I wonder if she was referring to my Herman Munster side.

B did tell me something that has made me want to change myself for the better though. She said that I find it hard to let people go. I have done a lot of self analysis and soul searching in my life and I had never really thought of myself in these terms. Weird I know, but as soon as she said it I knew it was true. Funny how revelations only ever feel like an anvil falling on your head but it's true, I do find it incredibly hard to let people go. I'd love to think of myself as a love 'em and leave 'em - and who really cares about 'em anyway.. type girl but I'm not. I embrace any kind of affection that comes my way - even if it's bad for me. There are a lot of reasons for this, not least the lack of affection shown to me during my own childhood and my need to feel that someone finds me worthy of their time. I've seen friends of mine go through the whole 'going back to people who make you feel bad about yourself' thing with men and the like, advising them to have the strength to say no.. when all the while it was me too. I don't want to be that girl. Closer to the case - I don't want to be her ...anymore. I don't need anymore fair weather friends. They tear me apart.

I thought about this all night, and all of today. I guess I have to be a stronger person - maybe I have to let that "agreeableness" part of me go a little and be less agreeable and be less open. Those people that use me shouldn't be welcomed by me with open arms ever again and those people that don't see my good qualities - well, it's their loss isn't it? I shouldn't see myself for being at fault just because THEY are idiotic. Stop making excuses for other people's mistakes, that's basically what I have to do.

* Meanwhile and since it's all about me today: on Idol (I know, please don't hate me for using Idol as my Musical Monday crutch for two weeks in a row) they had 'choose music from the year you were born. I thought it was a smashing idea and I've come up with a song from a band I've been meaning to do for a while now. The Rolling Stones.

I'm certainly no hardcore fan, as you will probably tell when you hear my song choice but one of my very earliest memories I have of myself enjoying music is while I was listening to The Rolling Stones. It was the 80s, I was wearing my pajamas and jumping up and down on the couch with my bro to Start me Up, which happened to be playing on Countdown one night. I did think it was an excellent song - even though I sang Stompio (hence the stomping on the couch) instead of Start me Up, but that's just a technicality surely. I mean Mick probably sang the wrong words half the time too. As for Keith, good christ, did he ever know the words? (God love 'em) But I digress. That was the early me.

In my mid teens I re-discovered them when I was going through my 60s rock and I'm depressed with the world phase. In fact Paint it Black was a constant fixture in the soundtrack of my life around that time. I can't even being to tell you how many times I listened to that one. And of course at 18-ish when I decided that Get Off My Cloud would be my theme song (I might take it up again). Then again, at 19 sitting on the floor of some filthy bungalow down by the beach singing along to As Tears Go By being played beautifully on guitar by a sad friend. And lately, with this one - 1978, my year. I love everything about it, the slightly bluesy influence, the sexy beat and all the lyrics; yes every single one - even the Peurto Rican girls just dyyyyyyyyyyyyyin' to meet you. Love it.

Miss You - The Rolling Stones



So you see, they've been around for a while; The Rolling Stones. Never really at the forefront of my life but there, behind the scenes, definitely in the soundtrack - a perfect accompaniment. Don't you just love it when must does that?




err sorry, slip of the button... what I meant was..

Labels: aries is the best chuck out the rest, beach, blurry girl, change, childhood, choices, conversations, divination, friends, girls and women, idol, mixed bag of me, musical monday, newspaper, personal

posted by M at 10:22 pm 17 comments

Where are the others? The girl says, referring to the empty spaces.


Ha. They not coming is the short answer. The lengthy story doesn't need to be told, the girl already knows the whys and wheres. It's the same old, same old.

They sit and eat, and the conversation is lively. Traditional recipes are shared in an offhand manner. The girl knows that these kinds of recipes are not written down in any book nor can they ever be. You learn them by watching and doing never by reading or measuring. She knows she needs to make the time to watch and do, but who has the time for that these days?

The courses are all handmade from scratch or bought from places where they are handmade. Biscuits and sweets from the neighbour, homegrown roasted veggies, consume that has never seen the inside of a carton on the shelves of Safeway. Dessert fresh from the oven.

Old stories are told at one end of the table and new ones are told on the other.

The fruitcake comes out. Delicately sliced, moist pieces sitting gracefully next to the coffee pot and talk turns inevitably to the missing party.

"Did you eat the Panettone (Pah-neh-toh-neh) they gave at Christmas?"

uh oh, the Panettone story.

You wouldn't think that Panettone, a non-threatening airy, light, dry, traditional christmas fruitcake that is full of yum and a favourite of the girl would cause the problems that is has..

Eat it? As soon as I see it I throw it away!

How dare they! It's disgusting!

I cut mine and inside it was like a dough!

It was rotten! What are we, not good enough for fresh Panettone?

They keep it for two years and give it away at Christmas.

The accusations are shouted clearly into the small lit room and soon everyone is shouting and howling with laughter as the matron tells her story.

One year, they give me Panettone and I put it on the shelf. I buy the good Panettone for my friend but when we go to visit I realise that I have taken the bad Panettone by mistake. You can't go inside the house with nothing so I have to give the bad Panettone. You know what? My friend, she call me the next day and she says to me "You need to be careful where you buy your Panettone because this was not good". I never felt so ashamed so I call up Y and I tell her "you need to be careful where you buy the Panettone because you made a mistake with this one!"

Every year it is the same story with the Panettone. Bad food is a grave insult. Rotten one is a death wish.

But what to do about the case of the bad Panettone?

The girl has an idea.

At Christmas, no one makes any dessert. When they come with the Panettone you serve it that night and give them the first piece. You say "This is the Panettone that Y bought! Everyone enjoy" and then you see if they ever bring a bad Panettone again.

The family screams with laughter.

Revenge is the best medicine.

Felicita - Al Bano and Romina Power



Yes, yes this is quite possibly the un-cool song ever to grace my MM buuuut, it fits.

Labels: conversations, family, story

posted by M at 6:11 pm 24 comments

Wagamama - QV

bro - I have a walkout policy.
me - what's the policy?
bro - 10 minutes with no service and I walk out.
me - yeah, well guess who doesn't have a walk out policy? That's right..
bro - ...I am willing to take the bus.
me - good luck
bro - I'll go 15 minutes.
me - yeah yeah yeah
*silence as I make my chopsticks dance and bro gives me the stare*
*no service*
bro - Wagamama just killed a maaaan, put a gun against his head pulled my trigger now he's dead.
me - haha
*silence*
me - Wagamama mia, here we go again my my how can I resist you?
bro - haha
*silence*
*no service*
me - $1000 to eat all your meals with chopsticks for one year. Would you do it?
bro - oooo...kind offer but one whole year? I'm going to have to go with a no.
me - It's a fair offer, you can eat whatever you want! You could eat Asian for a year and you get $1000 dollars. There are people in the world who eat with chopsticks everyday and they don't get $1000 and here I am offering it to you and what do you do? You throw it back in my face, that's what!
bro - $1000? No deal.
*silence*
me - okay $2500! All you have to do is eat everything with chopsticks.
bro - no! no deal!
me - okay, okay you twist my arm $5000!
bro - hm...tempting but I don't knoooww.
me - It's a simple task really, doesn't even put you out very much and you get PAID to do it. That's $100 a week or thereabouts that you get for eating with chopsticks. $100 bucks a week is a lot of money!
bro - ...maybe.
*silence*
*no service*
*me closing one eye and pretending I can squish bro's head in my chopsticks*
me got yer head!
bro - it's like Beetlejuice with the shrunken head.
me Funniest movie ever! Remember how I was so obsessed with it. I watched that like 3 times a day for the whole school holidays
bro - oh yeah, you were a Beetlejuice freak! But I'm surprised we watched that movie and got it! We were pretty young..
me yeah, quirky film
*silence*
me "I've seen The exorcist about 167 times and it keeps getting funnier EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I SEE IT! Not to mention the fact that you're talking to a dead guy here. So what do you think? You think I'm qualified?"
bro - hahahaha, classic!
*silence*
*no service*
me Man what's with the service?
bro - walk out policy.
me There is no fucking way I'm going anywhere else at this point.
bro - I'm going to give her [waitress] the eye.
me you go ahead and do that.
*silence as bro perfects the eye*
me so..$5000, chopsticks for a year.
bro - okay deal! But I can eat normal hand held food with my hands, right?
me um no! That wasn't part of the deal. You eat everything with chopsticks!
bro - what about sandwiches and hamburgers? I don't eat them with a fork and knife. I use my hands. Why can't I use my hands?
me No. The rules state that you must eat everything with chopsticks including all hand held food. You can however choose not to eat any hand held food.
bro - no..I should be allowed to eat sandwiches with my hands! How the hell am I supposed to eat a sandwich with chopsticks?
me You could use two pairs of chopsticks! One in each hand and pick up the sandwich like that!
bro - haha, no.
me Okay, I'll tell you what I'll do for ya - you CAN use knives etc to CUT your food into bite sized pieces and THEN use your chopsticks to eat those bite sized pieces.
bro - This is stupid! I should be allowed to have sandwiches. One meal of hand held food a day.
me A DAY? You have got to be kidding. No deal. The deal is off!
bro - one hand held meal a day!
me no, you FREAK! You're getting $5000 AND a pair of chopsticks! What more do you want?
*silence*
me okay okay! You can have one hand held meal a week. That's it. That's my final offer.
bro - one hand held meal a day. You're not compromising here, you need to meet me half way.
me Two hand held meals a week!
bro - 5 hand held meals a week!!
*silence*
me 5 hand held meals a week and the price goes down to $3500!
bro - YOU ARE RIPPING ME OFF!
me no deal!
*silence*
*no service*
me You suck. So..what are you going to get?
bro - They really shouldn't keep us waiting, we could have a restaurant review blog!

service - 6/20 (they got better)
meal 12/20
conversation - ridiculous.

Labels: bro, conversations, restaurant

posted by M at 1:30 am 25 comments