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...

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...

My Daemon

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!

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.

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?

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.

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.

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!

Best hangover cure ever!

Wednesday was another scorcher, not helped by the fact that I was feeling distinctly hung-over after 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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

Puppy vs Cat...

Hmmm....Fonz is not quite as thrilled about the whole 'puppy' thing as I seem to be. So far today we have at least managed to get her down stairs, but all she's really done so far is sit in the kitchen and glare at the puppy.

Fortuately puppy is pegged out fast asleep in the middle of the living room floor, but it may all get a bit interesting when Peerie wakes up...

Puppy!

The Puppy is here! At the moment the name is Peerie Mootie (translates from Shetlan' as Little Small!) but that may change over the weekend if I decide it doesn't suit her. We shall see.

Anyway, she's adorable. I think she's feeling a little bit lost without her mum, dad, or brother, but I'm sure she'll settle in. The cat is currently ignoring her - which is preferable to her trying to kill the wee thing! We shall see how that goes.

And now for the important bit...photos!

So Exciting!!!!!!!!

I'm getting a puppy!!!!!!!!!!

I'm so excited. I went to meet the pup (and her parents & breeders) today and she is just too cute! I did the sensible thing - I went home and thought about it without having the little ball of fluff sitting there trying to seduce me, and I did decide that I really did want her. She's just adorable.

She's a shih tzu, she's 10 weeks old on Tuesday and I'm bringing her home on Friday. (She's really small, so she didn't get her first jabs with the rest of her littermates and is getting the first ones on Wednesday.)

She is so so adorable. So now I need to think of a name for her...the breeders have been calling her Honey, but...I'm not overly enamoured of 'Honey'...not sure what I'll call her...I'm quite attached to Doodlebug for some unknown reason, but that sort of seems like more of a boy's name...

Photos and overly excited updates of her every move will no doubt follow in time. I'm so excited!

Festive Cheer

This website is a little gem that is guaranteed to provide hours of festive procrastination! www.elfyourself.com Enjoy!

Christmas time...

I cracked. A full week earlier then usual, and I cracked. My christmas tree is now up and decorated in my living room. My classroom is probably going to be decorated tomorrow afternoon. It's Christmas, I'm embracing it, it's fine!

It's actually all ITV's fault. I was doing ok. Holding out against the relentless pressures of retail, the kids at school, my neighbours who have decorated inside and out (christmas decorating is much bigger up here than I would have expected)...I even held strong against the fact that the radio is now playing Christmas songs. And then ITV had to go and put Love Actually on tonight. And I cracked. I'm now in the christmas zone. And I don't care. My christmas tree is lovely.

And for those of you who know my penchent for creating my own christmas tree fairies, you'll be glad to know that my trusty barbie has a new outfit this year. Isn't she fab? (If a tad Wonder Woman-esque...)

On a totally different topic, this is an appeal to anyone reading this for some advice. Should I get a puppy or not? I've been thinking about it for a while, and a couple of weeks ago a litter of Shih Tzus was advertised in the paper and I decided (rather sensibly I thought) to have a serious think, sleep on it, and if I still wanted one phone then. So I did, and I did still want one, but by the time I phoned, all the puppies had found homes.

And then today I got a call from the nice people to say that they've been told by their vet that the bitch they'd been planning on keeping is going to be too small as an adult to breed, so now they're looking for a new home for her. And do I want her? (On the strict condition I get her spayed - which I would have done anyway.)

Now...I know this is a big decision. I have until Saturday to think about it as I can't go out to meet the pup (and its parents and breeders) until Saturday. But I do want one... And so this is an appeal for sensible advice. At least, something slightly more helpful than my mother's somewhat useless: "oh, an ickle puppy! I could look after it when you go on holiday...oooohhhhh.....[assuming sickly baby voice] ickle-wickle puppy-dog for christmas...." And so on.

So...Puppy or not puppy? That is the question of the day. Any advice greatfully recieved (but do bear in mind that I may well choose to completely ignore it...)

Parent's Night

Parent's Night. *big sigh* My first full one as a proper teacher.

I'm exhausted.

I arrived at school at 8.30 am this morning, I did a full day teaching. I then stayed in school until parent's night started at 6.30 pm, (having changed into my 'I'm an adult, honest' costume) and at that point I started talking to parents. I did not stop talking until some time around 9pm (although rational speech had become tricky at least an hour earlier - note to self: gibbering at parents does not a good impression make!). By that point I'd been bursting for the loo for at least half an hour.

I'm now back at home in a brain-dead fug of tiredness. I might also have some post of post-traumatic stress disorder. A minor one, but PTS none the less. Bloody hell!

God help me when I'm back on the mainland dealing with classes of 30! Of course, Shetland parents are very keen to 'get involved' and all that jazz, and they don't bother with appointments, so you can't even use the 'I'm afraid that's your time up and others are waiting' excuse...still, at least there is very little chance of them lamping you when you tell them that little Jimmy is actually a little shite who may be possessed by Satan, and would they mind terribly if you got the priest in for a bit of an exorcism.

...bloody hell...I need to go to bed...or open a bottle of wine...bed is probably the more sensible option...I don't have a bottle of wine...I have a bottle of vodka...but bed would probably be better...

TV Coma

I HAVE SKY!!!! I'm so very excited, it really speaks volumes about the somewhat sorry state of affairs which is my social life at the moment. Also, having been swearing for years that I don't need Sky, it does feel like something of a defeat to finally have it installed. But, frankly, I'll get over it - I can now watch Lost! I can watch Sawyer getting his kit off on a regular basis! Woohoo! So many channels....it's truely amazing!
See, the main problem with living up here on the edge of the world, is that there isn't really that much to do. I leave the house in the morning to go to school, and it's dark. Depending on the weather it may or may not reach proper daylight at some point in the day, which means I may or may not get to appreciate the actually quite lovely views out of my classroom windows, and then by the time I get back home again, it's dark. And usually blowing a gale. Which does, somewhat, impinge on the possibilities for extra-curricular activities. In fact, the favourite at the moment is going to the gym (yes, me. Going to the gym, And - even stranger - enjoying it!) - and even though it's at the bottom of my road getting there through the rain and the wind is a bit of a struggle.
On the weekends, the prospect of going outside is always hugely dependent on the weather, and evening activites pretty much involve going to one or more of Lerwick's pubs. Which is fine and all, but if you don't fancy the pub, you're pretty much scuppered. And so I have Sky. Happy days.

Also...why is it that I can't seem to change the font/colour/size/etc? What's that about? Answers on the back of a postcard please... (as you might have noticed...I've now sorted this...tres bizarre...)

I'm scary!

Well, it's finally been confirmed by the kids - apparently I am, officially, a bit scary! They're even talking about it in the hallways. Cool, huh?

It's been a funny week on the teaching front. I'm no doubt tempting fate and a full-blown swinging-from-the-lights riot by saying this, but I think I might have turned a bit of a corner with the bad-boy S3 class. Of course, the fact that that class is now down to only 6 members may have something to do with it. Naturally, of course, karma kicks in and the 'good' S3 class is descending rather rapidly through the various circles of hell. Now, there is the fact that one of the 'bad boys' is now in this class because he got chucked out of Physics and now has to take Biology instead, but actually, it's not him causing the problems. No, it's one of the other boys who seems keen to take over the title of 'Most Likely to be a Total Wanker'. So he has been. He made me finally give out a detention, and now he's made me send him out of my class.

As a result of this, he told me that 'I hate you. I really do.'

Am I bothered? I did rather enjoy writing the referral that was fired off to guidance, and I'm now REALLY looking forward to Parent's Evening on Tuesday, but I can't say that I'm really losing much sleep over the fact that one 14 year old boy from Shetland hates me. I'm pretty sure I'll get over it. After all - I'm scary!