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Rosey Fingered Dawn
One of the most important things a single girl can have is a gay best
friend (GBF). Preferably quite a big one. It was an accepted fact
before Grace and Charlotte York (those big gainers) started to prace
round New York.
As luck would have it, my GBF happens to have moved up North at the same time as me
and is moving back down South at about the same time that I am. He
protests that its an amazing coincidence... I think that the gods of
friendship were just feeling magnanimous when they worked out our
schedules. Perhaps they'd had a good day on the Bingo. Or something.
So, yesterday, my GBF and I went to the theatre (one of our favourite
pastimes in London) in Liverpool. We went to see the Bristol Old Vic's
version of the Odyssey. It was really bad... but then perhaps I am too
much of a Classicist to ever cope with the bastardisation of an ancient
story into a two hour rant about Asylum seekers. They should all be
shot (no, not the Asylum seekers - I don't read the Daily Mail) -
especially the author and the bloke who played Athena (yes bloke, yes
there was no reason for it to be a man, yes it pissed me off). Odysseus
was quite good though - apart from when he suddenly developed a
concsience about what had happened to the Trojan people, because in the
Asylum Seeks detention centre they showed him a rather ropey puppet
show (can you see where this anger is coming from? can you?).
Anyway - I had a fantastic time because I could rant and shout and
sound very very clever in the bar afterwards - saying things like 'the
invention of the wooden horse was a Roman propaganda excerise years
after the Odyssey was written in order to make the Greeks look sneaky,
how dare they include it'. And the more wine I had - the cleverer and
louder I became. Poor GBF having to feed me cigarettes to calm me down,
and shsssh me whenever a member of the cast walked past.
And now I drank so much in my fury that this morning I feel like death,
or - more accurately - my head feels like an army of Greek Soldiers
attempting to break out of a wooden horse. Not that they did.
'Athena' had just seen Daisy's bar bill.
* As a final rant - they had put a line in the programme which said
some like 'historians are not sure how historically accurate the events
portrayed in the Odyssey are...' I'd like to meet that person who may
doubt that there were one eyed giants, singing birds with womens heads,
monsters who ate six people at a time and lots of gods hanging about;
owning cattle and dolling out advice in the 12th Century BC. Damn
fools. All of them.
Not funny any more
My head hurts and I can't be bothered to read about stupid Italian dictators.....
I want to watch day time TV and eat cream eggs....
Can someone please return the plot?
I am absolutely shit scared about teaching in my new school.
Proper pant-cackingly terrified. I've been plagued with sleepness night
and stress related nightmares.... I've been cramming my head so full of
knowledge that it might explode, and when it does mini half formed
Hitlers will be found dancing with Guy Fawkes while Richard the III
looks on in amazement. Such is the state of my brain.
I'm a total mess in short... and not even my (soon to be patented) vegetable and pink champagne diet is sorting me out.
Two nights ago I even had a dream that Bruce Willis was one of the
teachers at school and that I kissed him repeatedly in the Staff Room.
Obviously, even in my sleep I have completely lost the plot.
Busy and Important
No time to do anything today except work really really hard...
So...
Do you think googling Dan Snow, tracking him down and forcing him to be my boyfriend could acually constitute as work?
I mean - he'd be fairly handy at show and tell....
Ohhh - and if you are Dan Snow and have found this while googling youself... would you like to be my boyfriend?
Yo-Yo....
It is cheaper and easier to alter me to fit my bridesmaid dress than to
alter my dress to fit me... and so I have to make sure that I am
exactly the same size this summer as I was last summer when we bought
it....
So, two days ago I started eating vegetables, and organic meat, fruit
juice and no additive things (because basically I can't be bothered to
go on an unhealthy diet type thing - and I need too much energy, and I
like bread... and choclate (organic) and wine (good for the heart)).
Three days later and I have dropped a jeans size... In fact I think in
just one week I will be ready for my tiara...
Try it - it's easy as hell! AND my eyes are brighter too!
Working 9 to 5. Well, actually more like 3.30ish...
The Cat and I have been wroking really hard all day finishing off all my preparations for my first day at school tomorrow.
Here he is thoughtfully chewing my ruler-ruler while he contemplates
the rise of the dictator. My ruler is probably the coolest and geekist
thing I own... along the side, rather than centimetres it lists
all of the kings and queens. What a joy. Talking of which - don't you
wish that we lived in a weightless world like America where baking
involes cups of suger and sticks and butter... what fun that would be!
And you don't have to wash up your scales.
A tricky job.
There again they are all fat....
So, my first lesson is a laminated card game where my kids all get to
be dictators and carve up the world. Fun for all the family.
This is my very own laminator. After my ruler ruler it is my favourite
geeky thing I own. I could eat it... if I didn't risk coating my tongue
with boiling plastic...
My secong lesson consists of my class looking at WW1 artefacts. The
challenges will be to make sure no-one nicks them, eats them or wets
themselves with the excitement.
See... pant wettingly exciting.
However - if playing games, looking at old stuff and getting to see my
ruler isn't enough... There is one secret a new teacher can use which
never fails....
So - I'm off to Woolworths. See you later x
Don't leave me high.
It took a good bottle and a half of Merlot last night to get me to sleep... such was my concern about my lessons this morning.
But they went well... really well actually. And I like teaching for 35 minutes... it seems just enough time to leave them wanting more (or so I like to believe as they flee screaming from my classroom to PE... or drama.).
I'm on quite a high actually that hasn't even been dampened by two rather disturbing facts.
1) I am going with year 8 to the Leeds Armouries tomorrow. Its the worst museum I have ever ever been in. It's like somebody with no historical knowledge built an amazing place and then just threw random guns and swords in to it willy-nilly. You find yourself randomly in WW1 half way through the Civil War. It's like a bad dream maze type environment... just right for losing 80 13 year olds in. They did realise it was crap at some point. So they went on holiday to EuroDisney and borrowed some out of work actors to pretend to be soldiers. Horrid.
2) Despite this being a Catholic School they have not decided to give us the day off on Friday. Rather make us come in and listen to Mass and then teach. What kind of establishment is this? I mean he wasn't my pope per se... but surely a day off to go for lunch with my mother and get drunk in a pub beer garden is the very least he deserves as a mark of respect?
Tsk.