Oh. My. God. Comedy Genius. There is nothing else to say.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Updating: The Short Story 4 (Supplemental)
It hasn't been all work since moving to Perth. I managed a Monkey Weekend camping down south in September, which was its usual hysterically funny, good for the soul, full of filth extravaganza of fun. Yes, I was in a tent, but it was surprisingly lovely weather. I got a bit of a tan. It was great.
I also went to London to see Maria for a few days last week - gotta love teaching for the holidays, if nothing else. Did a load of cultural stuff and a little bit of shopping too - curses to Hamleys! Maria and I went to an exhibit at the National Portait Gallery about the development of photography in the press. Then we were seriously traumatised by an art istallation about women brought into the UK and forced to work in the sex industry. It was produced by the Helen Bamber Foundation and was truely distrurbing. It was meant to be, and it certainly did its job. Much wine was required after it.
We also did some pleasant things...like go on the London Eye, saw Wicked - which is AMAZING - and I went to the V & A and went to their Couture exhibition, and watched a very funny production of The Merchant of Venice at The Globe.
I'm now half way through the second week of the holiday, the puppy and Fonz have finally come up to Perth from Mum's, with any luck Sky is getting installed on Friday - what a saga that's been! - and it's pretty much life as normal. Except now I'm living in a town with hops, pubs, clubs, cinemas, and it doesn't require a twelve hour boat ride plus train to get to the bright lights of Edinburgh town. Woohoo!
I also went to London to see Maria for a few days last week - gotta love teaching for the holidays, if nothing else. Did a load of cultural stuff and a little bit of shopping too - curses to Hamleys! Maria and I went to an exhibit at the National Portait Gallery about the development of photography in the press. Then we were seriously traumatised by an art istallation about women brought into the UK and forced to work in the sex industry. It was produced by the Helen Bamber Foundation and was truely distrurbing. It was meant to be, and it certainly did its job. Much wine was required after it.
We also did some pleasant things...like go on the London Eye, saw Wicked - which is AMAZING - and I went to the V & A and went to their Couture exhibition, and watched a very funny production of The Merchant of Venice at The Globe.
I'm now half way through the second week of the holiday, the puppy and Fonz have finally come up to Perth from Mum's, with any luck Sky is getting installed on Friday - what a saga that's been! - and it's pretty much life as normal. Except now I'm living in a town with hops, pubs, clubs, cinemas, and it doesn't require a twelve hour boat ride plus train to get to the bright lights of Edinburgh town. Woohoo!
Updating: The Short Story 3 (Perth High School)
I started my new job at Perth High School on August 13th and spent the vast majority of the first term just trying to keep my head above water, dealing with
1. A new HUGE school
2. No classroom, resulting in me lugging boxes of folders and books around a total of 11 different classrooms on various floors around the school each week. You should see my biceps!
3. Teaching Higher. Eek!
4. Once again having the bammer Third Year class - why me?!?
5. Finding a flat - I was in a B&B for the first three weeks of term
6. Getting my stuff down from Shetland - complicated by an untimely death. Honestly.
7. Being shipped off on one of the school's S1 Residentials. Fun...I got to rockclimb, and climb trees, and randomly met a friend of Jenny's...but I could have done without having to sort out two days of cover materials for my classes
8. Just generally wondering what on earth I'd let myself in for and if working in an office or in retail was really as bad as I remembered.
I decided that yes, it was as bad as that, and I could cope with teaching. Probably. And that's where I am at the moment. Trying to get sorted for next term and working my way through the monstrous pile of marking I had to bring home with me for the holiday. Why couldn't I have been a maths teacher, or something else with minimal marking?
1. A new HUGE school
2. No classroom, resulting in me lugging boxes of folders and books around a total of 11 different classrooms on various floors around the school each week. You should see my biceps!
3. Teaching Higher. Eek!
4. Once again having the bammer Third Year class - why me?!?
5. Finding a flat - I was in a B&B for the first three weeks of term
6. Getting my stuff down from Shetland - complicated by an untimely death. Honestly.
7. Being shipped off on one of the school's S1 Residentials. Fun...I got to rockclimb, and climb trees, and randomly met a friend of Jenny's...but I could have done without having to sort out two days of cover materials for my classes
8. Just generally wondering what on earth I'd let myself in for and if working in an office or in retail was really as bad as I remembered.
I decided that yes, it was as bad as that, and I could cope with teaching. Probably. And that's where I am at the moment. Trying to get sorted for next term and working my way through the monstrous pile of marking I had to bring home with me for the holiday. Why couldn't I have been a maths teacher, or something else with minimal marking?
Updating: The Short Story 2 (Fiji)
Dave left me in Sydney and I headed to Fiji, which was DEFINITELY the best part of my trip - no offence to Australia.
I had one night on my own in the main town of Nadi and then it was off to Tribewanted to live the dream: a week on a beautiful desert island. And it really was. It was absolutely amazing. The island of Vorovoro is beautiful, the Fijian people are wonderfully friendly and welcoming, really treating as a member of the community rather than a tourist who is passing through, and everyone in Tribewanted, staff and lowly 'tribey' alike was lovely.
Granted...giant spiders, cockroaches, compost toilets, and Roland the Rat (who I only ever glimpsed as a tail vanishing around a corner but who was particulalry troubling to those sleeping in the Vale) aren't exaclt my cup of tea, but they strangely added to the experience. Although I suppose I should probably stop bitching about camping in the UK where there's proper plumbing and hot showers now...
Whilst on the island, I snorkelled, sunbathed less than I'd expected and still ended up with comedy tan lines, learned three mekes (traditional Fijian dances that involve lots of hip waggling if you're standing, and very quick hnd movements if you're sitting) for the Chief's Handover, and learned to appreciate kava - it might taste like puddlejuice at first, but you soon learn to love it. Well...maybe not love...but you will Get Your Grog On!
I was absolutley gutted to leave at the end of my week, and am definitely planning on going back. I have two weeks on the island still included in my membership and I'm tempted to pay to spend longer, maybe a full month, there next time. Of course there is the small matter of the air fare out there...bugger.
Another night in Nadi and then a night in Brisbane and it was back home. And yes, the shower in Singapore was just as good on the way back. I finally returned home with three days until the start of school and no luggage - joys!
I had one night on my own in the main town of Nadi and then it was off to Tribewanted to live the dream: a week on a beautiful desert island. And it really was. It was absolutely amazing. The island of Vorovoro is beautiful, the Fijian people are wonderfully friendly and welcoming, really treating as a member of the community rather than a tourist who is passing through, and everyone in Tribewanted, staff and lowly 'tribey' alike was lovely.
Granted...giant spiders, cockroaches, compost toilets, and Roland the Rat (who I only ever glimpsed as a tail vanishing around a corner but who was particulalry troubling to those sleeping in the Vale) aren't exaclt my cup of tea, but they strangely added to the experience. Although I suppose I should probably stop bitching about camping in the UK where there's proper plumbing and hot showers now...
Whilst on the island, I snorkelled, sunbathed less than I'd expected and still ended up with comedy tan lines, learned three mekes (traditional Fijian dances that involve lots of hip waggling if you're standing, and very quick hnd movements if you're sitting) for the Chief's Handover, and learned to appreciate kava - it might taste like puddlejuice at first, but you soon learn to love it. Well...maybe not love...but you will Get Your Grog On!
I was absolutley gutted to leave at the end of my week, and am definitely planning on going back. I have two weeks on the island still included in my membership and I'm tempted to pay to spend longer, maybe a full month, there next time. Of course there is the small matter of the air fare out there...bugger.
Another night in Nadi and then a night in Brisbane and it was back home. And yes, the shower in Singapore was just as good on the way back. I finally returned home with three days until the start of school and no luggage - joys!
Updating: The Short Story 1 (Australia)
Ok...I'm officially crap, and I just can't really be bothered going into a blow-by-blow account of the summer, so...here's the short story:
1. I finished up at Aith Junior High School and left the Islands of Shetland on a ferry on the 7th of July. I spent the next few days on the mainland running around like the proverbial blue-backsided flea and left for Australia.
2. My god that's a long flight, and the shower in the BA lounge in Singapore was TOTALLY worth the money the Qantas Club cost.
3. On arrival in Brisbane I hooked up with Dave and we spent the next few weeks doing a whistlestop tour of East Coast Australia. On our way we took in Tangalooma Wild Dolphin Resort, went up north to Cairns and snorkelled on the Great Barrier Reef, headed out to the Atherton Tablelands where we stayed with Dave's wonderful aunt and uncle and I picked up Harry Potter 7 (more on that later), then flew to Uluru - where I slept in a tent! - and finally headed to Sydney.
4. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Despite all mocking from Dave, who thought I was kidding when I said that we'd be going on a three hour round trip drive to Cairns if I couldn't get a copy of it in Atherton, I fired through the book and, despite all my fears, it really did live up to all my hopes. Smaltzy-but-neccessary-I-suppose epilogue not withstanding.
5. Sydney was probably my favourite part of Australia, and I took in all the usual sights including the Opera House where I saw a very good performance of Othello, visited the Botanic Gardens and saw the fruit bats, and spent a day wondering around Taronga Zoo where I learned that a baby duck-billed platypus is called a puggle.
1. I finished up at Aith Junior High School and left the Islands of Shetland on a ferry on the 7th of July. I spent the next few days on the mainland running around like the proverbial blue-backsided flea and left for Australia.
2. My god that's a long flight, and the shower in the BA lounge in Singapore was TOTALLY worth the money the Qantas Club cost.
3. On arrival in Brisbane I hooked up with Dave and we spent the next few weeks doing a whistlestop tour of East Coast Australia. On our way we took in Tangalooma Wild Dolphin Resort, went up north to Cairns and snorkelled on the Great Barrier Reef, headed out to the Atherton Tablelands where we stayed with Dave's wonderful aunt and uncle and I picked up Harry Potter 7 (more on that later), then flew to Uluru - where I slept in a tent! - and finally headed to Sydney.
4. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. Despite all mocking from Dave, who thought I was kidding when I said that we'd be going on a three hour round trip drive to Cairns if I couldn't get a copy of it in Atherton, I fired through the book and, despite all my fears, it really did live up to all my hopes. Smaltzy-but-neccessary-I-suppose epilogue not withstanding.
5. Sydney was probably my favourite part of Australia, and I took in all the usual sights including the Opera House where I saw a very good performance of Othello, visited the Botanic Gardens and saw the fruit bats, and spent a day wondering around Taronga Zoo where I learned that a baby duck-billed platypus is called a puggle.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Back online
I'm back - I have a shiney new broadband connection in my not-so-shiney new flat in Perth so I shall (hopefully) get updating on what I've been up to since leaving the isles!
Eventually...
Eventually...
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Friday, June 15, 2007
His Dark Materials
I'm really rather excited about the film coming out in December of The Northern Lights that's coming out in December - even if they are insisting on pandering to the American audience by calling it The Golden Compass - pah!
And now the trailer is available, I'm really excited. It looks brilliant - although I am starting to become concerned that they've changed it...hmm...
And now the trailer is available, I'm really excited. It looks brilliant - although I am starting to become concerned that they've changed it...hmm...
Promotional Wombats
Okay, that title is a bit of a tease - the Wombats and the Promotion are actually two different issues.
So first...the promotion...
An open-air production of Love's Labour's Lost in St Alban's in which the rather talented Nalini Chetty features as Katherine. Nalini reckons that Katherine "doesn't say a huge amount, just falls in love and wafts around stage" but I'm sure she does it well! (I have been trying to get the LLL Flyer up, but for some reason Blogger doesn't want to do it...if I can manage it, it will go up!)
Tragically, I won't be able to go see the play, as it's on between 19th and 27th of July, and I shall be in Australia. Anyone who does go, however, do please let me know what you thought...
Next..Wombats...
Or Wizards Ordinary Magic and Basic Aptiude Test to those uninitiated Muggles. Basically...it's for big Harry Potter Geeks like me to see just how much of geek they really are. Now, I've previously got deeply excited about WOMBATs, and today I sat the WOMBAT Grade Three - the final, and hardest, of the WOMBAT tests. It evidently appeared on J.K. Rowling's Website a couple of days ago, but as I'm not quite sad enough to check it every day, I didn't know about it until today. So I sat the test - and you know what, it was HARD! Unlike earlier WOMBATs, this one wasn't as reliant on mere fact recall, and required far more extrapolation based on what we know of the Wizarding World at large, from History of Magic - how we all wish Harry had paid more attention in Professor Binn's classes - to Politics, to DADA*.
As soon as the results are out, I shall let you know if I've continued my relatively high standards (O and E so far). Of course if the very worst happens and I get a T for Troll...I shall delete this post and deny all knowledge! And until then, I'm waiting for the always thorough Lexicon to come through with their post-WOMBAT analysis in which I should get a rough idea of how I did with my guesswork!
*And by the way...I'm sure that JK Rowling, or which ever minion she got to write the WOMBAT used the Lexicon in composing their questions...
So first...the promotion...
An open-air production of Love's Labour's Lost in St Alban's in which the rather talented Nalini Chetty features as Katherine. Nalini reckons that Katherine "doesn't say a huge amount, just falls in love and wafts around stage" but I'm sure she does it well! (I have been trying to get the LLL Flyer up, but for some reason Blogger doesn't want to do it...if I can manage it, it will go up!)
Tragically, I won't be able to go see the play, as it's on between 19th and 27th of July, and I shall be in Australia. Anyone who does go, however, do please let me know what you thought...
Next..Wombats...
Or Wizards Ordinary Magic and Basic Aptiude Test to those uninitiated Muggles. Basically...it's for big Harry Potter Geeks like me to see just how much of geek they really are. Now, I've previously got deeply excited about WOMBATs, and today I sat the WOMBAT Grade Three - the final, and hardest, of the WOMBAT tests. It evidently appeared on J.K. Rowling's Website a couple of days ago, but as I'm not quite sad enough to check it every day, I didn't know about it until today. So I sat the test - and you know what, it was HARD! Unlike earlier WOMBATs, this one wasn't as reliant on mere fact recall, and required far more extrapolation based on what we know of the Wizarding World at large, from History of Magic - how we all wish Harry had paid more attention in Professor Binn's classes - to Politics, to DADA*.
As soon as the results are out, I shall let you know if I've continued my relatively high standards (O and E so far). Of course if the very worst happens and I get a T for Troll...I shall delete this post and deny all knowledge! And until then, I'm waiting for the always thorough Lexicon to come through with their post-WOMBAT analysis in which I should get a rough idea of how I did with my guesswork!
*And by the way...I'm sure that JK Rowling, or which ever minion she got to write the WOMBAT used the Lexicon in composing their questions...
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Reasons Why...
Back Pain Sucks...
Oh, let me count the ways...
1. It hurts.
2. You can't move.
3. Other people cannot appreciate just how much it hurts.
4. It hurts.
5. There is NOTHING you can do to make it better.
6. Everything else in your body hurts as a result.
7. You end up walking like you have - a quote from one of my oh-so-sympathetic pupils - "a dildo shoved up your ass".
8. It HURTS! (The back pain - not the dildo up the ass. I don't have a dildo up my ass. I've never had a dildo up my ass. I wouldn't know if it hurt or not. I'm going to stop this train of thought now.)
9. It can be remarkable tricky to pin-point exactly what you did that caused the pain.
10. Because you can't move, it takes 10 times longer to do anything at all.
11. IT REEEEAAAALLY HUUUUUURRRRRTS!!!!!!
Yeah...so...I hurt my back at some point during the canoing/swimming/jumping fiesta of fun on Tuesday, and when I woke up on Wednesday, I could hardly move. Seriously. Not cool.
It was the School Walk on Wednesday, and I was meant to be on it - I dressed the part, thinking it might ease off, but by the time I got to the staffroom I was almost in tears - and I pretty much did start crying when Ginny and Eileen spotted me and asked if I was ok. It's weird - why is that you're fine, and then as soon as someone asks if you're ok, you start crying? Eileen instantly sprang into mum-mode, bustled off to Jim and informed him that I wasn't walking. I felt gulity, but I wasn't going to argue.
So I spent Wednesday in school, doing stuff that needed doing but didn't require too much physical effort. Like finishing my reports - hee hee! I did spend a fair amount of time wandering the hall ways - if I stayed still too long I totally seized up. Fortunately, JD wasn't walking either, so I harassed him for a while, and I went down to the hall to watch the concert that a couple of the Primary classes did - it was good - part of a workshop/outreach thing-a-ma-jig by the Scottish National Orchestra. And I had the office ladies checking on me - they seem to have semi-adopted me as a poor motherless bairn and as soon as they found out I'd hurt my back they were all for driving me to the doctor, then home - bearing in mind it's about 30 mins each way from school to home, that's a kind offer. I was tempted, but I declined - something they only permitted after I solemnly swore that if the pain got worse I would come and tell them, and if it was no better in the morning I would go myself and not come to school.
After school I paid a visit to the chemist for the strongest painkillers he would give me. I took a double dose - naughty, but the only way I was going to get any sleep. On Thursday I seriously considered calling in sick and going to the doctors, but it was a bit better, and the new timetable was starting, so I figured I'd better go in.
I'm now feeling a lot better - I can actually go up and down stairs without wanting to cry, and I have about 80% normal movement back. And I've only taken one of the uber-painkillers today, although I will prob take another one before I go to bed. I probably should see doctor about it, but there's not a great deal they can do apart from refer me to a physio...and as I'm already on a huge waiting list for my wrists, I don't really fancy joining another one for my back. Dontcha love the NHS?
Oh, let me count the ways...
1. It hurts.
2. You can't move.
3. Other people cannot appreciate just how much it hurts.
4. It hurts.
5. There is NOTHING you can do to make it better.
6. Everything else in your body hurts as a result.
7. You end up walking like you have - a quote from one of my oh-so-sympathetic pupils - "a dildo shoved up your ass".
8. It HURTS! (The back pain - not the dildo up the ass. I don't have a dildo up my ass. I've never had a dildo up my ass. I wouldn't know if it hurt or not. I'm going to stop this train of thought now.)
9. It can be remarkable tricky to pin-point exactly what you did that caused the pain.
10. Because you can't move, it takes 10 times longer to do anything at all.
11. IT REEEEAAAALLY HUUUUUURRRRRTS!!!!!!
Yeah...so...I hurt my back at some point during the canoing/swimming/jumping fiesta of fun on Tuesday, and when I woke up on Wednesday, I could hardly move. Seriously. Not cool.
It was the School Walk on Wednesday, and I was meant to be on it - I dressed the part, thinking it might ease off, but by the time I got to the staffroom I was almost in tears - and I pretty much did start crying when Ginny and Eileen spotted me and asked if I was ok. It's weird - why is that you're fine, and then as soon as someone asks if you're ok, you start crying? Eileen instantly sprang into mum-mode, bustled off to Jim and informed him that I wasn't walking. I felt gulity, but I wasn't going to argue.
So I spent Wednesday in school, doing stuff that needed doing but didn't require too much physical effort. Like finishing my reports - hee hee! I did spend a fair amount of time wandering the hall ways - if I stayed still too long I totally seized up. Fortunately, JD wasn't walking either, so I harassed him for a while, and I went down to the hall to watch the concert that a couple of the Primary classes did - it was good - part of a workshop/outreach thing-a-ma-jig by the Scottish National Orchestra. And I had the office ladies checking on me - they seem to have semi-adopted me as a poor motherless bairn and as soon as they found out I'd hurt my back they were all for driving me to the doctor, then home - bearing in mind it's about 30 mins each way from school to home, that's a kind offer. I was tempted, but I declined - something they only permitted after I solemnly swore that if the pain got worse I would come and tell them, and if it was no better in the morning I would go myself and not come to school.
After school I paid a visit to the chemist for the strongest painkillers he would give me. I took a double dose - naughty, but the only way I was going to get any sleep. On Thursday I seriously considered calling in sick and going to the doctors, but it was a bit better, and the new timetable was starting, so I figured I'd better go in.
I'm now feeling a lot better - I can actually go up and down stairs without wanting to cry, and I have about 80% normal movement back. And I've only taken one of the uber-painkillers today, although I will prob take another one before I go to bed. I probably should see doctor about it, but there's not a great deal they can do apart from refer me to a physio...and as I'm already on a huge waiting list for my wrists, I don't really fancy joining another one for my back. Dontcha love the NHS?
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Something I never thought I'd do...
Today I did something that I CERTAINLY never, not even in a month of Sundays, thought I would do while living in Shetland. I went swimming. In the sea!
I was wearing a wetsuit, but it was still BLOODY BALTIC! It's Activities at school this week and today I was off on Outdoor Ed - which today involved canoeing around Lerwick and having a bit of a swim. Oh, and jumping into the sea off rocks of various heights. The highest was about 20 feet high - can't believe I did it! There was a definite "oh my god oh my god oh my god" moment at the top, but...there was only one way down...and it was wicked! Loved it, even if it was scary as hell. It was also cool seeing Lerwick from a totally different angle from usual - I had no idea there were all these cliffs and caves and stuff - brilliant. It's also always nice to get out of the classroom with the kids. It's a totally different dynamic and it makes a difference once you're back in class with them, even if it is only a grudging sort of respect that you actually plucked up the courage to do the big jump, or disappointment that you jumped it, rather than needing the shove that they so kindly offered to provide!
My feet have now finally regained most of the feeling (putting on nice clean warm clothes at the end of the day was pretty close to orgasmic, I have to admit), but I'm totally shattered and my back hurts like a bitch. I'm sure it'll be fine in a day or two, but it's the school walk tomorrow and it might be a bit interesting, in a painful sort of a way. And I still haven't finished those bastard reports...
I was wearing a wetsuit, but it was still BLOODY BALTIC! It's Activities at school this week and today I was off on Outdoor Ed - which today involved canoeing around Lerwick and having a bit of a swim. Oh, and jumping into the sea off rocks of various heights. The highest was about 20 feet high - can't believe I did it! There was a definite "oh my god oh my god oh my god" moment at the top, but...there was only one way down...and it was wicked! Loved it, even if it was scary as hell. It was also cool seeing Lerwick from a totally different angle from usual - I had no idea there were all these cliffs and caves and stuff - brilliant. It's also always nice to get out of the classroom with the kids. It's a totally different dynamic and it makes a difference once you're back in class with them, even if it is only a grudging sort of respect that you actually plucked up the courage to do the big jump, or disappointment that you jumped it, rather than needing the shove that they so kindly offered to provide!
My feet have now finally regained most of the feeling (putting on nice clean warm clothes at the end of the day was pretty close to orgasmic, I have to admit), but I'm totally shattered and my back hurts like a bitch. I'm sure it'll be fine in a day or two, but it's the school walk tomorrow and it might be a bit interesting, in a painful sort of a way. And I still haven't finished those bastard reports...
Monday, June 04, 2007
The bane of being a teacher
It's that time of year. There's no avoiding it. You can run. But there is no where to hide. Like a nuclear powered GPS missile tuned to target your DNA, they WILL find you. 
That's right...report cards! Teachers everywhere are finding things to do that have merrily sat unlooked at for months but now, right this minute, they must be done. Hoovering? Essential. Ironing? Absolutely must be done. Alphabetising your DVD collection by Director then cross-referenced with Producer and Genre? The fate of the free world depends upon it. Stock-taking the English cupboard and putting the books into some vague parody of a sensible order? Well...maybe not that far!
However hard you might fight against it, there comes a time when you just need to suck it up and get writing.
I'm at that stage now, and I can feel my life force ebbing away. Methods of procrastination are screaming out to me - like this blog, for example. I have played Suduko. I have caught up on my emails. I am itching to organise my DVDs (perhaps not by director, cross-referenced by producer and genre, but still). But...they need to be written.
And so I am tackling that timeless challenge faced by teachers the world over. Exactly how many different euphamisms are there for "Your child would require a divine act of providence to reach the dizzying heights of idiocy."? Or perhaps "X is not achieving their full potential. Tesco are fairly unwilling to hire shelf-stackers who cannot yet spell 'Tesco'."? Or, my personal favourite, and the one I am currently trying to resist the urge to write: "Y is a gobby little shite and is a monumantal pain in my arse. I am counting the hours until I can palm him off on the next poor sap who loses the annual departmental dance-off and so is consigned to the seventh circle of hell, otherwise known as class 4B. I have been practising my moon-walk especially. Frankly, I think it a huge pity he was not drowned at birth, I daily mourn the passing of corporal punishment, and I shall be forwarding the bills for my summer's residential psychiatric treatment to you forthwith." Do you think writing that would be considered a bit TOO blunt?
Righto...suppose I'd better get back to the buggers, especially if I plan on getting any sleep tonight...
Ooh...Big Brother's about to start...
Saturday, June 02, 2007
On the Wagon
I know I've said this before - several times, in fact, but I really REALLY mean it this 
time. For the month of June, I am on the wagon. I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I've decided that a pre-Australia, bikini-preparation detox is required. And so, I am stepping up the prep from just gym visits to full blown, on-the-wagon, detox. And everyone is free to remind me of this as and when neccessary - probably next Friday night for example, when I would usually crack open the 'I survived another week' bottle of wine!
Of course, the timing does work out nicely so I can disembark from the wagon fresh as a daisy for the end of year work outing! But for the next 4 weeks...
"Rolling, rolling, rolling. Keep those wagons rolling..."
time. For the month of June, I am on the wagon. I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I've decided that a pre-Australia, bikini-preparation detox is required. And so, I am stepping up the prep from just gym visits to full blown, on-the-wagon, detox. And everyone is free to remind me of this as and when neccessary - probably next Friday night for example, when I would usually crack open the 'I survived another week' bottle of wine!Of course, the timing does work out nicely so I can disembark from the wagon fresh as a daisy for the end of year work outing! But for the next 4 weeks...
"Rolling, rolling, rolling. Keep those wagons rolling..."
Monday, May 28, 2007
I balded my dog!
I was recently back in the burgh for a job interview at Loretto (didn't get it - didn't want it anyway!) and I decided to kill two birds with one stone and take the dog to the groomers to get clipped. It needed to be done but it did turn out a bit shorter than I'd expected.
So she went from fluffy shaggy heap...
So she went from fluffy shaggy heap...
To a lean mean fuzz machine...
Turns out there's actually legs under all that hair - who knew! She does look odd though - still not quite used to it - especially coz her head is still relatively fluffy, so it just looks a peerie bit big for her body!
She is still cute tho...
Friday, May 04, 2007
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Ski Trip Video
Ok, this is the last post I'm going to make about the ski trip, but I had to share this vid. One of the S4s made it, and it's totally wicked - I'm so impressed! (Look out for a couple of particularly unflattering pics of me flashing by...) Towards the end John's death-defying tumble is captured on film - he's the speck tumbiling down the mountain. Try not to get distracted by Kirsten stacking it in the forground, but if you miss it, it's repeated several times in slow mo. You know it's bad when you hear Shaun's voice at the end after he's skied past the crumpled heap!
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Pila
This is just a quick supplement to the recent skiing recaps. It has come to my attention that while I have rather blithely been referring to things such as 'Chamole', 'The Grimod Bowl' and 'The Laisse Chair', that will mean bugger all to anyone who hasn't visited Pila. And so...in an effort to rectify the situation (and in the delusional belief that anyone who reads this actually cares this much)...I give you...The Piste Map!
Ok...I gave you the piste map, but it's not actually very readable...sorry! I do have a piste map on my shiney new bebo site tho...but that may not be very helpful. I tried.
Ok...I gave you the piste map, but it's not actually very readable...sorry! I do have a piste map on my shiney new bebo site tho...but that may not be very helpful. I tried.
The Last Run
Saturday morning, 6am, and Beth woke everyone up for a VERY early breakfast so we could be on the slopes ready to start at 9am. Because of stupid boat being in dry doack, we HAD to be on the Sunday night ferry back to Shetland. As a result, we had to leave Italy at lunch time and so would only get a couple of hours skiing in. The kids had the choice to ski or not, and although a few decided just to stay in the hotel for the morning, most headed up the mountain, and I was with them.
All the groups headed straight up the Chamole chair and another massive free-for-all ensued. How no one did themselves serious damage is beyond me, but I was NOT loving it - I felt like I had a huge target on my back as a lot of the kids thought it'd be hysterical to wipe out the teachers. Liam managed it with what I thought was a very dirty trick - he swerved right in front of me and then stopped. I swerved to miss him, and ended up on my backside with my skis pointing in opposite directions. He seemed to find it hysterical - should have just skied right into the little bugger! Cody also managed it a bit later on, but that one wasn't deliberate - he skied right in to the back of me and we both ended up sliding most of the way down the slope on our butts!
We had one last go at the jumps, hung around to watch everyone else try it (most failed miserably - our group was definitely the best, but I think we'd had much more practise at them) and then we were off again. Away from the other groups and down to the Laisse.
Up the Laisse and, for the first time, we didn't head down towards Grimod, but turned to the left and went down a steep red we'd never been down before. It was distinctly scary but, despite that, or perhaps because of it, it was BRILLIANT! I had a few wobbles, and at one stage I tried to turn too quickly and my ski came off! It took me ages to get the damn thing back on again on the steep bit, especially as my knee was hurting again following Liam's trick earlier on, but I managed, and after that I even managed to pick up speed and keep well up with the group, even overtaking some of the kids! (Naughty, but after a week of being responsible and bringing up the rear I'd been dying to do it!) After the falling-off-ski incident the run went perfectly - it was a brilliant way to end the trip, although I could have merrily kept skiing for much longer.
On our return to the hotel there was a pleasant surprise waiting for us - John had been released from hospital sporting a rather fetching neck brace and with a supply of pain pills for the journey! We quickly found out that the underwear had been much appreciated, but not as much as the excellent treatment which John had recieved in the Aosta hospital. He'd been treated to a bed bath from 4 young nurses, and had been seen by the neurologist who was evidently "a total babe"! It was clear that he was ok, and so the mocking could commence!
John's neck brace did neccessitate a bit of a re-jig on the seating arrangements on the bus. he got moved to the very front because one of the seats reclined right back - this meant that no-one could sit behind him so I got sent to the back of the bus to sit next to the pupils - poor Craig! It was all right really, they're a nice enough bunch, and I actually got a decent amount of sleep. Poor Craig, however, had had two seats to himself on the way to Italy, and this time had to put up with me sitting next to him, prompting the rather genius comment of "For a peerie wife you dinnae half take up a lot o' space Miss!"
I survived the bus journey, and we even managed to get to Aberdeen with time to spare, so got two hours shopping time. Fab!
First Stop: Vision Express to replace the nose pad on my glasses which had broken off at some point on the bus journey after I fell asleep wearing them.
Second Stop: Carphone Warehouse to pick up a cheap handset. I'm still in mourning for my much loved PEBL - I must have fallen on it at some point and the main screen now doesn't work. Fortunately, I'm due for an upgrade soon so the cheap handset will do until then.
And then... Monsoon, Gap (which rather handily was having a sale), Oasis, Accessorize, a quick visit to M&S to use the toilets to change out of minging bus clothes and into new t-shirt and flip-flops, The Body Shop, Virgin, and then...and then...STARBUCKS!!!! To my absolute horror they were all out of both the berry and the mango frappuchinos, but a grande hazelnut mocha with whip went down an absolute treat! As did the 30 minutes of child-free solitude on the standard issue comfy starbucks sofa.
Onto the Ferry, into the shower, on with 100% new, clean clothes, and I was back to feeling human. Dinner, a couple of drinks, and then off to bed where I slept like a rock, although I did wake up very early whic gave me time for another shower. Arrived in Lerwick, returned kiddi-winks to their waiting parents, had just enough time to drop off bags and change, and then...back to school!
The holiday was over...reality bites.
PS: For anyone who is interested, I fully intend to go skiing in the winter and am currently looking for anyoen else who wants to join. Monkeys in the Snow anyone?
All the groups headed straight up the Chamole chair and another massive free-for-all ensued. How no one did themselves serious damage is beyond me, but I was NOT loving it - I felt like I had a huge target on my back as a lot of the kids thought it'd be hysterical to wipe out the teachers. Liam managed it with what I thought was a very dirty trick - he swerved right in front of me and then stopped. I swerved to miss him, and ended up on my backside with my skis pointing in opposite directions. He seemed to find it hysterical - should have just skied right into the little bugger! Cody also managed it a bit later on, but that one wasn't deliberate - he skied right in to the back of me and we both ended up sliding most of the way down the slope on our butts!
We had one last go at the jumps, hung around to watch everyone else try it (most failed miserably - our group was definitely the best, but I think we'd had much more practise at them) and then we were off again. Away from the other groups and down to the Laisse.
Up the Laisse and, for the first time, we didn't head down towards Grimod, but turned to the left and went down a steep red we'd never been down before. It was distinctly scary but, despite that, or perhaps because of it, it was BRILLIANT! I had a few wobbles, and at one stage I tried to turn too quickly and my ski came off! It took me ages to get the damn thing back on again on the steep bit, especially as my knee was hurting again following Liam's trick earlier on, but I managed, and after that I even managed to pick up speed and keep well up with the group, even overtaking some of the kids! (Naughty, but after a week of being responsible and bringing up the rear I'd been dying to do it!) After the falling-off-ski incident the run went perfectly - it was a brilliant way to end the trip, although I could have merrily kept skiing for much longer.
On our return to the hotel there was a pleasant surprise waiting for us - John had been released from hospital sporting a rather fetching neck brace and with a supply of pain pills for the journey! We quickly found out that the underwear had been much appreciated, but not as much as the excellent treatment which John had recieved in the Aosta hospital. He'd been treated to a bed bath from 4 young nurses, and had been seen by the neurologist who was evidently "a total babe"! It was clear that he was ok, and so the mocking could commence!John's neck brace did neccessitate a bit of a re-jig on the seating arrangements on the bus. he got moved to the very front because one of the seats reclined right back - this meant that no-one could sit behind him so I got sent to the back of the bus to sit next to the pupils - poor Craig! It was all right really, they're a nice enough bunch, and I actually got a decent amount of sleep. Poor Craig, however, had had two seats to himself on the way to Italy, and this time had to put up with me sitting next to him, prompting the rather genius comment of "For a peerie wife you dinnae half take up a lot o' space Miss!"
I survived the bus journey, and we even managed to get to Aberdeen with time to spare, so got two hours shopping time. Fab!
First Stop: Vision Express to replace the nose pad on my glasses which had broken off at some point on the bus journey after I fell asleep wearing them.
Second Stop: Carphone Warehouse to pick up a cheap handset. I'm still in mourning for my much loved PEBL - I must have fallen on it at some point and the main screen now doesn't work. Fortunately, I'm due for an upgrade soon so the cheap handset will do until then.
And then... Monsoon, Gap (which rather handily was having a sale), Oasis, Accessorize, a quick visit to M&S to use the toilets to change out of minging bus clothes and into new t-shirt and flip-flops, The Body Shop, Virgin, and then...and then...STARBUCKS!!!! To my absolute horror they were all out of both the berry and the mango frappuchinos, but a grande hazelnut mocha with whip went down an absolute treat! As did the 30 minutes of child-free solitude on the standard issue comfy starbucks sofa.
Onto the Ferry, into the shower, on with 100% new, clean clothes, and I was back to feeling human. Dinner, a couple of drinks, and then off to bed where I slept like a rock, although I did wake up very early whic gave me time for another shower. Arrived in Lerwick, returned kiddi-winks to their waiting parents, had just enough time to drop off bags and change, and then...back to school!
The holiday was over...reality bites.
PS: For anyone who is interested, I fully intend to go skiing in the winter and am currently looking for anyoen else who wants to join. Monkeys in the Snow anyone?
The Ski Off...
Ok, so the last installment of my Skiing Extravaganza ended with the delightful Tale of the Nostril Tampon!
Friday dawned, cooler again (I never thought I'd be so happy to see clouds) and with even a hint of snow. The snow never came to anything more than a few rather feeble flankes, but the thought was there, and at least I didn't sweat enough to fill a small swimming pool. We headed up the mountain and went for our first few runs. They went ok (I only forgot how to ski for 20 mins or so, so didn't have too many tumbles) and then, at 11am, came The Ski Off!
All the Aith Ski Groups gathered at the top of the Grimod Bowl, and our instructors briefed us for battle.
This was the Ski Off. This was our opportunity to show off our hard-earned skills in front of everyone else. This was a matter of Pride. Personal Pride. Group Pride. But most important of all...Instructor Pride - woe betide the person who let down their intructor in front of the other groups. Actually, scratch that...the most important thing was Teacher Pride...JD had dropped out early in the week, ostensibly to supervise the walking wounded and the conscientious objectors who didn't want the skiing to ruin their holiday, and John was in the intermediate group, so that left Kirsty and I to go head to head as beginners.
The Ski Off consisted of each person, in turn, skiing down most of the Grimod with all four intructors watching, showing off the very best of the skills we'd learned in the week. The instructors would confer and that night there was to be a presentation at the hotel where we would get our certificates and discover how many stars we'd won.
This was stressful enough, but before that came a 'practise run' - which basically consisted of the entire group (40-odd including teachers) in a giant free for all down the Grimod, all vying to show off as much as humanly possible. Carnage. Needless to say, showing off was indeed done, and I must admit that I was horribly pleased to be able to swoop gracefully past Kirsty, at some speed, as she lay in a heap in the snow half way down the run. I did suprisingly well - impressing Beth who was behind me, until I got to the very bottom of the run. I had right of way, but some dozy bint from another school didn't seem to think so - I swerved, she ran into the back of my skis, we both ended up in the snow, but I think she came off worse! Beth helped me up, I did apologize but all I got was a very filthy look so I left her to the mercies of her friends who arrived quickly. Whatever!
We returned up the lift, posed for photos, and then...the Ski Off Commenced. And it went ok...there were a few fallers, but most people did themselves proud. I was a bit annoyed with myself...I was concentrating so hard on not falling and on keeping myself in the right position that I think I went a bit too slow - I certainly could have gone faster, but I did it, and it went ok, so I was happy.
After the Ski Off there was a palpable sense of relief and everyone headed off in their seperate groups again. And it was incredible...I totally relaxed, and everything came much easier. It was great, I finally started going faster (although still not fast enough according to Gorgeous George!), I had so much fun, and even managed some more flirting with GG. Happy days.
And then we went down the mountain. And discovered that John Jackson, the Maths teacher, had had a fairly horrific fall and was currently in the hospital (having been sent there from the med centre on the mountain) for MORE x-rays because he may or may not have done something horrific to his neck. However, the show had to go on and off we toddled for a trip to the Nike factory in town - discount Nike gear plus an extra interski discount - happy days! We shopped, and then returned to the hotel for a shower, dinner, and the presentations. Oh yes, and on the way from the bus to the hotel I had to visit the shop and look like a total alkie to buy booze for the kids to give to the instructors. Most got some sort of wine-present combo, but on consultation with Joe and Allan we decided that GG really didn't seem the red wine type, so GG got:
1. A fairly poncy headband from the nike factory (because he had a VERY poncy headband that he regularly wore on the slopes)
2. A tube of hair gel - to ensure a poncy hair style to go with the poncy headband
3. A bottle of Jack Daniels!
Over dinner the call came: John was being kept in overnight to see the neurologist in the morning, and we needed to pack an overnight bag. We got a list, and Michael headed off to pack it - and then needed help because he was totally thrown by the task of finding John's "sleep wear" - which Beth immediately found under the pillow. Duh. We packed up the bag and incuded a quickly made get well soon card, and a matching set of bra and knickers - thoughtfully donated by Kirsty!
After dinner...the presentation. Everyone got a certificate, and got stars, 1 was the lowest, and 4 was the highest anyone in the group got. Most people got 2 stars, and there was then the added bonus of stars, With Merit, or With Distinction. I got 2 Stars With Merit, and I'm very proud of myself! We gave the instructors their presents, and much hilarity was had by all.
We also heard from Rich, the intermediate group, who geve his version of John's fall. And it suddenly sounded a LOT worse than the kids had made out - possibly becasue John had been moving too quickly for them to make out much more than a blur! According to Rich, John went past him at a truely frightening speed, tried to turn and went over, performed roughly 8 cartwheels and landed in a motionless heap. Rich skied like hell to get down to him, apparently thinking that there was a good chance he'd killed his first client, and arrived in time to see that John was actually moving. Just. Rich assured us that it was genuinely the worst crash he'd seen, and we all suddenly became very aware that John had been an INCREDIBLY lucky man to have walked away from it.
Friday dawned, cooler again (I never thought I'd be so happy to see clouds) and with even a hint of snow. The snow never came to anything more than a few rather feeble flankes, but the thought was there, and at least I didn't sweat enough to fill a small swimming pool. We headed up the mountain and went for our first few runs. They went ok (I only forgot how to ski for 20 mins or so, so didn't have too many tumbles) and then, at 11am, came The Ski Off!
All the Aith Ski Groups gathered at the top of the Grimod Bowl, and our instructors briefed us for battle.This was the Ski Off. This was our opportunity to show off our hard-earned skills in front of everyone else. This was a matter of Pride. Personal Pride. Group Pride. But most important of all...Instructor Pride - woe betide the person who let down their intructor in front of the other groups. Actually, scratch that...the most important thing was Teacher Pride...JD had dropped out early in the week, ostensibly to supervise the walking wounded and the conscientious objectors who didn't want the skiing to ruin their holiday, and John was in the intermediate group, so that left Kirsty and I to go head to head as beginners.
The Ski Off consisted of each person, in turn, skiing down most of the Grimod with all four intructors watching, showing off the very best of the skills we'd learned in the week. The instructors would confer and that night there was to be a presentation at the hotel where we would get our certificates and discover how many stars we'd won.
This was stressful enough, but before that came a 'practise run' - which basically consisted of the entire group (40-odd including teachers) in a giant free for all down the Grimod, all vying to show off as much as humanly possible. Carnage. Needless to say, showing off was indeed done, and I must admit that I was horribly pleased to be able to swoop gracefully past Kirsty, at some speed, as she lay in a heap in the snow half way down the run. I did suprisingly well - impressing Beth who was behind me, until I got to the very bottom of the run. I had right of way, but some dozy bint from another school didn't seem to think so - I swerved, she ran into the back of my skis, we both ended up in the snow, but I think she came off worse! Beth helped me up, I did apologize but all I got was a very filthy look so I left her to the mercies of her friends who arrived quickly. Whatever!
We returned up the lift, posed for photos, and then...the Ski Off Commenced. And it went ok...there were a few fallers, but most people did themselves proud. I was a bit annoyed with myself...I was concentrating so hard on not falling and on keeping myself in the right position that I think I went a bit too slow - I certainly could have gone faster, but I did it, and it went ok, so I was happy.
After the Ski Off there was a palpable sense of relief and everyone headed off in their seperate groups again. And it was incredible...I totally relaxed, and everything came much easier. It was great, I finally started going faster (although still not fast enough according to Gorgeous George!), I had so much fun, and even managed some more flirting with GG. Happy days.
And then we went down the mountain. And discovered that John Jackson, the Maths teacher, had had a fairly horrific fall and was currently in the hospital (having been sent there from the med centre on the mountain) for MORE x-rays because he may or may not have done something horrific to his neck. However, the show had to go on and off we toddled for a trip to the Nike factory in town - discount Nike gear plus an extra interski discount - happy days! We shopped, and then returned to the hotel for a shower, dinner, and the presentations. Oh yes, and on the way from the bus to the hotel I had to visit the shop and look like a total alkie to buy booze for the kids to give to the instructors. Most got some sort of wine-present combo, but on consultation with Joe and Allan we decided that GG really didn't seem the red wine type, so GG got:
1. A fairly poncy headband from the nike factory (because he had a VERY poncy headband that he regularly wore on the slopes)
2. A tube of hair gel - to ensure a poncy hair style to go with the poncy headband
3. A bottle of Jack Daniels!
Over dinner the call came: John was being kept in overnight to see the neurologist in the morning, and we needed to pack an overnight bag. We got a list, and Michael headed off to pack it - and then needed help because he was totally thrown by the task of finding John's "sleep wear" - which Beth immediately found under the pillow. Duh. We packed up the bag and incuded a quickly made get well soon card, and a matching set of bra and knickers - thoughtfully donated by Kirsty!
After dinner...the presentation. Everyone got a certificate, and got stars, 1 was the lowest, and 4 was the highest anyone in the group got. Most people got 2 stars, and there was then the added bonus of stars, With Merit, or With Distinction. I got 2 Stars With Merit, and I'm very proud of myself! We gave the instructors their presents, and much hilarity was had by all.
We also heard from Rich, the intermediate group, who geve his version of John's fall. And it suddenly sounded a LOT worse than the kids had made out - possibly becasue John had been moving too quickly for them to make out much more than a blur! According to Rich, John went past him at a truely frightening speed, tried to turn and went over, performed roughly 8 cartwheels and landed in a motionless heap. Rich skied like hell to get down to him, apparently thinking that there was a good chance he'd killed his first client, and arrived in time to see that John was actually moving. Just. Rich assured us that it was genuinely the worst crash he'd seen, and we all suddenly became very aware that John had been an INCREDIBLY lucky man to have walked away from it.
Friday, April 20, 2007
How d'you ski again?
Thursday dawned, cooler (hurrah) and, thankfully, hangover free. I headed up the mountain, full of hopes of a great days skiing - it had all been going so well on Wednesday afternoon...surely it would continue to do so. No, turns out skiing doesn't actually work that way.
Once again, we went straight up to Grimod (and this time I didn't want to spew on either of the gondolas!), and began preparations. It started well on the areas we'd skiied yesterday. And then...I forgot how to ski. Seriously. I forgot how to ski - it is the only possible explanation for the hour or so which I spent mostly on my arse, falling over at every available opportunity. It was just embarrassing. I blame Gorgeous George. He kept on telling me off for going at the end (I was meant to be at the back in my role as 'teacher'...) and for not going quickly - apparently I was good enough that I should be going faster. So I tried. And then the falling commenced. And the falling didn't stop. It was horrific. Fortunately, the idiocy passed, at least until the afternoon when I had a 30 minute or so relapse. The falls weren't especially horrific, more entertaining and embarrassing - especially the one when the only thing that stopped me sliding the ENTIRE way down the run was the snowdrift gathered by my ass, but damage was still done. At some point in the day I twisted my knee (actually, I think it was a series of small twists...) and by the end of the day I was feeling less than chipper.
This lack of chipperness was not helped at all by the fact that I was dehydrated, having given the majority of my water to idiot children who hadn't had the sense to refill their bottle at lunch, and one idiot child in particular who was convinced that she'd broken her pinkie in a fall in which she "almost died". My arse. I must confess to having very little sympathy to start with, but fortunately my lack of sympathy was echoed by other adults when we rejoined the main group at the end of the day and it was decided that no, a trip to the med centre for x-rays really wasn't required.
A hot shower and a nap back at the hotel (not to mention the several nurofen and litre of water which I necked) helped my mood considerably, and after dinner I was fully prepped for the 
Tournament of Tournaments! AKA Bowling Night: Teachers vs Pupils! The Team to Beat was widely considered to be the S4s, but, contrary to all expectations, and despite the best efforts of Beth & I to totally scupper all hopes, the Teachers came from behind to thoroughly trounce the pupils. It was actually kindof beautiful... And largely due to the innate competitiveness which seems to surface in all PE teachers at even the whiff of some sort of sporting challenge.
Tournament of Tournaments! AKA Bowling Night: Teachers vs Pupils! The Team to Beat was widely considered to be the S4s, but, contrary to all expectations, and despite the best efforts of Beth & I to totally scupper all hopes, the Teachers came from behind to thoroughly trounce the pupils. It was actually kindof beautiful... And largely due to the innate competitiveness which seems to surface in all PE teachers at even the whiff of some sort of sporting challenge. The night was improved upon when one of the S2s, against all the odds, succeeded in one of those giant-claw-type machines and won a huge Scrat (the funky squirrel-type beastie with the acorn from Ice Age). However, this was somewhat counteracted by a slight medical emergency in the form of a MAJOR nosebleed that kept me confined to the toilet trying to stauch the bood flow for about 45 mins, and ended up in a trip to A&E for Beth and poor unfortunate pupil who then had to spend the rest of the trip with what can only be described as a tampon shoved up her right nostril.
PS: As something of an appendix to the Tale of the Nostril, on Tuesday morning I was greeted by said pupil bouncing across the classroom shouting "Look Miss, look! It's out!!" Something I was equally glad about and responded to by bouncing up and down, grinning hugely, and repeating "It's out, it's out!!" in a spectacularly professional manner!
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Best hangover cure ever!
Wednesday was another scorcher, not helped by the fact that I was feeling distinctly hung-over af
ter an unintentionally drunken night before with the other teachers - I wasn't the worst, by any means, but the gondola up to the mountain was not the most fun in the world. The smaller gondola up to the higher slopes was even worse - it was chock full of people, hot, smelly, and juddery. Nor did I feel better when Gorgeous George spotted my hung-over and nauseous state and proceeded to rip the piss. Bloody students. It did help when he 'fessed up to being equally hungover tho! (Although tragically we had achieved our hangovers entirely seperately - school trips blow!) Professionalism in practice and a shining example to the pupils from both of us, I'm sure you'll agree. (Carried on later in the day on another Gondola ride when we set about discussing the finer points of Pub Golf - something a couple of the pupils found particularly fascinating!)
I started feeling a whole lot better once out in the fresh air and we prepared ourselves for the first run of the day. And it was here that I discovered the best and most immediate hangover cure in the world - a trip down the mountain to the med centre with one of the pupils in your care! Talk about instant sobering and adrenaline kick! On the very first run of the day, one of the girls in my group was injured in what can only be
described as the most pathetic excuse for a fall ever. Crapness of fall aside, she managed to do something to a ligament in her knee which required a call out to Piste Patrol, she was skidooed down the mountain with me frantically trying to keep up on my skis because I didn't have a scoob where the med centre was. And obviously this was the day that I didn't have my mobile on me so couldn't contact any of the other teachers. Against all the odds, I managed to keep up with the skidoo and reach the med centre without having fallen - I was EXTREMELY proud of this fact - and waited with said pupil while x-rays, etc were taken. A damaged ligament was diagnosed (after the x-ray count for the trip was raised to 2) and I then spent an hour and a half with her at the bottom of the mountain, sunbathing - how glad was I that I'd had the foresight to shave my legs and put shorts on under the salopettes! Fortunately, Kirsty and some of her group were sitting the day's skiing out so I was able to rejoin my group after lunch. (see picture for walking wounded!)
Upon rejoining them, however, I discovered to my horror that in my absence they'd progressed from OK to really rather good - they were onto parallel turns and everything. I had a major flap, convinced I was utterly behind, but GG took me to the side and caught me up. By the end of Wednesday it really felt like everything was starting to fall into place. Foolish, foolish Nyssa...
ter an unintentionally drunken night before with the other teachers - I wasn't the worst, by any means, but the gondola up to the mountain was not the most fun in the world. The smaller gondola up to the higher slopes was even worse - it was chock full of people, hot, smelly, and juddery. Nor did I feel better when Gorgeous George spotted my hung-over and nauseous state and proceeded to rip the piss. Bloody students. It did help when he 'fessed up to being equally hungover tho! (Although tragically we had achieved our hangovers entirely seperately - school trips blow!) Professionalism in practice and a shining example to the pupils from both of us, I'm sure you'll agree. (Carried on later in the day on another Gondola ride when we set about discussing the finer points of Pub Golf - something a couple of the pupils found particularly fascinating!)I started feeling a whole lot better once out in the fresh air and we prepared ourselves for the first run of the day. And it was here that I discovered the best and most immediate hangover cure in the world - a trip down the mountain to the med centre with one of the pupils in your care! Talk about instant sobering and adrenaline kick! On the very first run of the day, one of the girls in my group was injured in what can only be
described as the most pathetic excuse for a fall ever. Crapness of fall aside, she managed to do something to a ligament in her knee which required a call out to Piste Patrol, she was skidooed down the mountain with me frantically trying to keep up on my skis because I didn't have a scoob where the med centre was. And obviously this was the day that I didn't have my mobile on me so couldn't contact any of the other teachers. Against all the odds, I managed to keep up with the skidoo and reach the med centre without having fallen - I was EXTREMELY proud of this fact - and waited with said pupil while x-rays, etc were taken. A damaged ligament was diagnosed (after the x-ray count for the trip was raised to 2) and I then spent an hour and a half with her at the bottom of the mountain, sunbathing - how glad was I that I'd had the foresight to shave my legs and put shorts on under the salopettes! Fortunately, Kirsty and some of her group were sitting the day's skiing out so I was able to rejoin my group after lunch. (see picture for walking wounded!)Upon rejoining them, however, I discovered to my horror that in my absence they'd progressed from OK to really rather good - they were onto parallel turns and everything. I had a major flap, convinced I was utterly behind, but GG took me to the side and caught me up. By the end of Wednesday it really felt like everything was starting to fall into place. Foolish, foolish Nyssa...
Staying in a vertical position
I LOVE SKIING!!! That's right - you read it - I love skiing!
Got back from the school ski trip to Italy yesterday - still ABSOLUTELY shattered - and it was totally brilliant. I was having serious second thoughts prior to departure, not least because I was convinced I was destined to break something (I'm sure many remember the mountain-boarding - broken tail bone debacle of last summer...) but no - I was actually not half bad. After I spent the first two days failing miserably to do anything terribly usefull of course.
We left on Friday 6th for the overnight boat to Aberdeen where we met up with our coach - home for the next two days. That's right, two days on a coach with nearly 40 teenagers, driving from Aberdeen to Italy, somewhere near the Swiss border. THAT was fun - especially as Kirsty and I got the short straw and had the crappy seats right at the front of the bus with no leg room. We finally arrived at lunch time on Sunday; tired, bad tempered, stiff, and probably not smelling too great either. What I didn't realise at the time was that smelling bad was going to be something of a theme for the week. We met our Rep, picked up our ski gear, and FINALLY arived at the hotel mid afternoon. One shower and a change of clothes later, and the world was a much nicer place. Especially as it was glorious sunshine and all the teachers headed out for a walk in the sun and then hit the pub - again, a theme for the week.
Food, wine, and a good night's sleep later, Monday dawned, again in glorious sunshine. We headed up the
The Instructors: l-r Alex (aka Fitty McHotty), Rich, Georgeous George, and Carolyn
The remainder of Monday was then spent trying to learn the basics: getting skis on & staying in vertical position, snowplough on a non-existant slope & staying in a vertical position, stopping & staying in a vertical position, getting skis off & staying in a vertical position...pretty challenging stuff. None of which was helped by the fact that it was baking hot and our ski-suits felt roughly akin to having 15-tog duvets draped all over our bodies. I have never sweated so much in my life...until Tuesday.
Tuesday we were still on the basics but were getting a bit of speed and managed to move onto turning. This caused a lot of problems initially, but by the end of the day things were looking up and most people had got the hang of it. Things were starting to make sense and I was beginning to think that maybe this trip wasn't quite the worst idea I'd ever had in my life. At least until we got back down to the rest of the group and discovered that one of the fourth years in the intermediate group had broken his collar bone, thus starting our x-ray collection.
My Ski Group
l-r Hannah, Shelley, Gorgeous George, Joe, Matthew, Allan, Robbie, Cody, Frances, Paddy, Ashley, Me.
Got back from the school ski trip to Italy yesterday - still ABSOLUTELY shattered - and it was totally brilliant. I was having serious second thoughts prior to departure, not least because I was convinced I was destined to break something (I'm sure many remember the mountain-boarding - broken tail bone debacle of last summer...) but no - I was actually not half bad. After I spent the first two days failing miserably to do anything terribly usefull of course.
We left on Friday 6th for the overnight boat to Aberdeen where we met up with our coach - home for the next two days. That's right, two days on a coach with nearly 40 teenagers, driving from Aberdeen to Italy, somewhere near the Swiss border. THAT was fun - especially as Kirsty and I got the short straw and had the crappy seats right at the front of the bus with no leg room. We finally arrived at lunch time on Sunday; tired, bad tempered, stiff, and probably not smelling too great either. What I didn't realise at the time was that smelling bad was going to be something of a theme for the week. We met our Rep, picked up our ski gear, and FINALLY arived at the hotel mid afternoon. One shower and a change of clothes later, and the world was a much nicer place. Especially as it was glorious sunshine and all the teachers headed out for a walk in the sun and then hit the pub - again, a theme for the week.
The Teachers: JD, Michael, Kirsty, Beth, John, Me
Food, wine, and a good night's sleep later, Monday dawned, again in glorious sunshine. We headed up the
mountain and were introduced to our instructors - and the week suddenly took a dramatic turn for the better. My group's instructor was Gorgeous George, a 21 year old student from Loughborough Uni (I have no idea if that's the right spelling...). All I have to say on that is...WOOF! I just about managed to contain my drooling long enough to introduce myself, but not before several of the pupils had twigged, ensuring much amusement for the rest of the week as they hissed "Miss Anderson fancies George" at various points.
The Instructors: l-r Alex (aka Fitty McHotty), Rich, Georgeous George, and CarolynThe remainder of Monday was then spent trying to learn the basics: getting skis on & staying in vertical position, snowplough on a non-existant slope & staying in a vertical position, stopping & staying in a vertical position, getting skis off & staying in a vertical position...pretty challenging stuff. None of which was helped by the fact that it was baking hot and our ski-suits felt roughly akin to having 15-tog duvets draped all over our bodies. I have never sweated so much in my life...until Tuesday.
Tuesday we were still on the basics but were getting a bit of speed and managed to move onto turning. This caused a lot of problems initially, but by the end of the day things were looking up and most people had got the hang of it. Things were starting to make sense and I was beginning to think that maybe this trip wasn't quite the worst idea I'd ever had in my life. At least until we got back down to the rest of the group and discovered that one of the fourth years in the intermediate group had broken his collar bone, thus starting our x-ray collection.
My Ski Groupl-r Hannah, Shelley, Gorgeous George, Joe, Matthew, Allan, Robbie, Cody, Frances, Paddy, Ashley, Me.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Final Re-cap...I think
So...why the 'No Drinking' resolution has fallen down...
1) I had a blind date. It all gets a bit confusing...Cherlotte's boyfriend's friend Nick is up here working for BP...and so Charlotte embarked on some long-distance set-up. And there was no way in hell I was going on a blind date without any alcohol passing my lips. It went well, he's a nice enough bloke, just...not much in the way of sparks! C'est la vie.
2) Kirsty's Birthday. Kirsty's had a fairly stressful start to the year and so her birthday was celebrated by the two of us getting plastered in my living room. Good time was had by all.
It is also Up Helly Aa on Tuesday (so expect a fairly hefty post telling you all about that) and from what I can gather, Up Helly Aa is used as an excuse for a) Socially sanctioned, nay, expected, excessive alcohol consumption, and b)institutional transvestitism (is that even a word?). Should be good. As I type, Sarah is braving the mammoth journey north to join me in this traditional celebration of Shetland's Viking Heritage (or 'Speed-dating on an Island-Wide Scale' as I am personally viewing it) so, hopefully, much fun and hilarity will be had in teh next few days. Hurrah! Roll on the Vikings.
1) I had a blind date. It all gets a bit confusing...Cherlotte's boyfriend's friend Nick is up here working for BP...and so Charlotte embarked on some long-distance set-up. And there was no way in hell I was going on a blind date without any alcohol passing my lips. It went well, he's a nice enough bloke, just...not much in the way of sparks! C'est la vie.
2) Kirsty's Birthday. Kirsty's had a fairly stressful start to the year and so her birthday was celebrated by the two of us getting plastered in my living room. Good time was had by all.
It is also Up Helly Aa on Tuesday (so expect a fairly hefty post telling you all about that) and from what I can gather, Up Helly Aa is used as an excuse for a) Socially sanctioned, nay, expected, excessive alcohol consumption, and b)institutional transvestitism (is that even a word?). Should be good. As I type, Sarah is braving the mammoth journey north to join me in this traditional celebration of Shetland's Viking Heritage (or 'Speed-dating on an Island-Wide Scale' as I am personally viewing it) so, hopefully, much fun and hilarity will be had in teh next few days. Hurrah! Roll on the Vikings.
Recap of the past month Part II
The remainder of the holidays progressed as expected - some family feuds, the usual mix of the expected, the disappointed, and the downright mental on the present front, eating far too much, and catching up with friends.
This was enlivened somewhat by the last-minute return of Vicki from her global jaunts. She's been travelling for almost two years so it was good to see her back in the 'Burgh in time for Hogmanay. This involved the usual excessive drinking (I have absolutley NO memories of the Bells) and, even though we'd purchased tickets for Le Monde, we still ended up in The World (and yes, I am aware of the comedy of leaving Le Monde for The World) for it's last hurrah under current management. Which, in turn, meant the annual Hogmanay entertainment of watching Jamie trying desperatley to get into Cheryl's knickers. He's been trying every New Year for roughly the past 7 years, is knocked back every year, but has that deterred him? Not a jot! You really have to admire his perseverance.
Needless to say, New Year's Day passed in a blur of hangover hell, and so 2007 began in much the same way as every other year of the 21st century - with me swearing to never drink again. I'd like to say I've actually kept that resolution up for once, but...well...that's another story.
I finally returned to Shetland on January 5th and was back to school on the Monday. And so now it's back to the normal routine. School...home...gym...that's about it.
This was enlivened somewhat by the last-minute return of Vicki from her global jaunts. She's been travelling for almost two years so it was good to see her back in the 'Burgh in time for Hogmanay. This involved the usual excessive drinking (I have absolutley NO memories of the Bells) and, even though we'd purchased tickets for Le Monde, we still ended up in The World (and yes, I am aware of the comedy of leaving Le Monde for The World) for it's last hurrah under current management. Which, in turn, meant the annual Hogmanay entertainment of watching Jamie trying desperatley to get into Cheryl's knickers. He's been trying every New Year for roughly the past 7 years, is knocked back every year, but has that deterred him? Not a jot! You really have to admire his perseverance.
Needless to say, New Year's Day passed in a blur of hangover hell, and so 2007 began in much the same way as every other year of the 21st century - with me swearing to never drink again. I'd like to say I've actually kept that resolution up for once, but...well...that's another story.
I finally returned to Shetland on January 5th and was back to school on the Monday. And so now it's back to the normal routine. School...home...gym...that's about it.
I'm rubbish - recap of the past month Part I
Good lord it's been a while! Was it really 16th December last time I posted? Wow - my bad.
Actually, I have been aware of my spectacular crapness on the blogging front recently (thanks Chloe for the rather pointed reminder on MySpace by the way!), it's just that it sort of got to the 'I don't even know where to start' stage. So...I've finally accepted that I need to bite the bullet and get blogging again.
Christmas was good, and somewhat unprecedented in recent years by the fact that I managed to spend more than my usual 48 hours in my mother's house without storming out and not speaking to her until some time in early April (usually just in time to ensure that I do actually get a birthday present!). Granted, I didn't arrive on my finest form - we'd had the school's christmas piss-up the night before my departure from Shetland, and, inevitably, all good intentions of having an early night in preparation for my 6am departure to the airport went sailing out the window. Long story short, I lurched home at god-only-knows when, passed out, slept through my alarm and was awoken by the taxi driver pounding on the door shortly after 6am. Cue me, ripping through the house like a banshee (thankfully I had had the foresight to do most of my packing in advance), trying to make sure I had everything.
I didn't.
I finally got into the taxi around 6.25am still drunk and wearing no socks, with my makeup still on from the previous night, and my hair unbrushed. And one earring, as I discovered on the journey to the airport. We did make it in time for my flight, although I was the last person checked in and did recieve some rather dirty looks, and then proceeded to kangaroo the entire way across the North Sea and in to Edinburgh. Thankfully, my mother's concern for the puppy's safe arrival (not mine you might notice) had led her to book and pay for a taxi from Edinburgh Airport. Also rather fortunately, I knew the driver of old and so was only fairly mortified when, having survived all bar 2 miles of the journey home, I had to call for an emergency stop so I could throw up into the verge. Lovely.
Upon arrival at my mother's I presented her with puppy and went to bed. When I finally surfaced, several hours later and with a raging hangover, I discovered that I'd brought my toothbrush and moisturiser, but no other toilettries, my phone, but not my charger, and my DS charger, but not my DS. Brilliant.
Actually, I have been aware of my spectacular crapness on the blogging front recently (thanks Chloe for the rather pointed reminder on MySpace by the way!), it's just that it sort of got to the 'I don't even know where to start' stage. So...I've finally accepted that I need to bite the bullet and get blogging again.
Christmas was good, and somewhat unprecedented in recent years by the fact that I managed to spend more than my usual 48 hours in my mother's house without storming out and not speaking to her until some time in early April (usually just in time to ensure that I do actually get a birthday present!). Granted, I didn't arrive on my finest form - we'd had the school's christmas piss-up the night before my departure from Shetland, and, inevitably, all good intentions of having an early night in preparation for my 6am departure to the airport went sailing out the window. Long story short, I lurched home at god-only-knows when, passed out, slept through my alarm and was awoken by the taxi driver pounding on the door shortly after 6am. Cue me, ripping through the house like a banshee (thankfully I had had the foresight to do most of my packing in advance), trying to make sure I had everything.
I didn't.
I finally got into the taxi around 6.25am still drunk and wearing no socks, with my makeup still on from the previous night, and my hair unbrushed. And one earring, as I discovered on the journey to the airport. We did make it in time for my flight, although I was the last person checked in and did recieve some rather dirty looks, and then proceeded to kangaroo the entire way across the North Sea and in to Edinburgh. Thankfully, my mother's concern for the puppy's safe arrival (not mine you might notice) had led her to book and pay for a taxi from Edinburgh Airport. Also rather fortunately, I knew the driver of old and so was only fairly mortified when, having survived all bar 2 miles of the journey home, I had to call for an emergency stop so I could throw up into the verge. Lovely.
Upon arrival at my mother's I presented her with puppy and went to bed. When I finally surfaced, several hours later and with a raging hangover, I discovered that I'd brought my toothbrush and moisturiser, but no other toilettries, my phone, but not my charger, and my DS charger, but not my DS. Brilliant.
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