This weekend I'm on duty in the House. I'm also having the biggest Blonde moment that I've had in months, if not years. The two, I fear, are not mixing well. A performance summary will be published tomorrow, if I feel able to record the goings-on in such a public domain.

Ashley started it, but I only scored 11.43984% - Geekish Tendencies. Bah! Even thought I'm spodding after a night in the pub, and all that. On second thoughts, it's probably not a bad thing that I lack geekiness. Off to contemplate it now...

[A later addition]Have decided: lacking geekiness is not a bad thing, but I probably make up for it in the other official measures of sadness. Just off to choose a textbook for some light bed-time reading...

And this arrived:

I'm sure the kids are learning lots by watching Bad Girls, probably nothing to do with the National Ciriculum but hey - you should show them the film "Kids", as it promotes responsibilty for one's actions in a disturbing way.

This is a good suggestion - I'll nick the House's Blockbuster card and make improvements to their education immediately!!
Also arriving in the inbox was a link to this site. Maybe its final papagraph contains a sensible suggestion. On the other hand, I'd prefer to stay here....

Whoops. Quiet night in turned into laary night out.

Amy disapproves:

Mad Bad Girls, come on, the Forsyte Saga is back on the TV, much more educational.....

But it's not shown on Wednesdays or Thursdays, which are the only times when I sit in front of the haunted goldfish bowl, so that solves that problem. And besides, Bad Girls is great.

This evening has seen the viewing of another episode of Bad Girls, the weekly PSE lesson that takes place in the juniors' common room. There's much to be learnt from an hour spent watching life in Larkhill Prison: "Miss E, why's she got to sell her house?" "Miss E, what's the difference between HIV and AIDS? Why's her baby got it too?" "Miss - WHAT did you just call that man?!" Oh yes, they're learning a lot.

Additional entertainment this evening was provided by Fatso, who underwent the long and dangerous journey upstairs, where he was mauled, (wo)man-handled and generally spoilt rotten in the advert breaks. It's a hard life being a furball. If only he could mark work...

Sunny and hot. Playing rounders bare-foot away from the watchful eye of the games teacher. Lounging whilst drinking cranberry juice. Flinging open all of the windows and playing music loud enough to make the plants quiver. Making a token attempt at tidying up but being distracted by Fatso, old photos, icecream, the internet... This, ladies and gentlemen, has been my afternoon so far. Mmmmm.....

The kiddy-winkles are back now, and teaching begins tomorrow. The break's been quite quiet - a jaunt-ette back to Durham on Sunday/Monday, then a couple of days sleeping, lounging and marking here in (almost) Sunny Derbyshire. Going back up north made me long for academia again - the thought of being encouraged to sit in a library pouring over journals makes my heart sing. If anyone happens to know of a benevolent philanthropist who's prepared to support a dodgy woman through a PhD in an irrelevant subject then please point them in my direction.

Amy takes a break from her revision and writes

Mad u really must have spent the whole weekend sleeping :)

Indeed, and good it was too. Off for some more kip...

Here come the holidays. All 4 days of them. At least 65% will be spent sleeping. In fact, not being one to let the opportunity slip by, I'm off to bed. Just call me Rip Van Winkle. Catch you in 4 days time...

If you were a sixth former (or even a 15/16 year old) and had been caught once in the evening for drinking/theft/pizza delivery, would you move yourself into another room and allow yourself to be caught again? I thought not. Even a gnat would realise that they were in trouble and give up for the evening. Not here. One could run a competition to find a brain cell and be struggling for applicants amongst certain quarters.

Speech day tomorrow. Ah. today. Pretentious "meet with parents and wear silly outfit" type day. The pink dress/jacket ensemble strikes again. No sentences longer than 5 words. Brain fried. Nearly wrote "Brian fried". Time for bed...

ZZZzzzzzzzz.......

Following my initial discomfort at school's new web filter thingamy, I have now to report that it's getting worse, far worse. It seems to work by scanning the words on the site being downloaded and then refusing to show any that contain naughty words. Mal's site, I think, is barred because it uses the word expl**it, although in a completely innocent context. Personal sites are - I suppose - understandable: the justification is that the net is provided as an educational tool, not a recreation facility. However, today I got the following:

Repton School
Access to this site is restricted!
This attempt has been logged.
Access to "http://news.bbc.co.uk/" has been denied because it has been Categorized as a Pornographic website.
Please contact the IT Dept. for more information.

It's the NEWS!! Supplied by the BEEB!!!! Yaargh. Do the government know that this is how the licence fee is being spent?!

A swathe of marking stretches out in front of me this afternoon. I've ploughed my way through two answer booklets so far and am rapidly losing the will to live. Not even funky loud music will get me through this... excuse me while I die.

District meeting tonight. "Head" "brick wall" and "beating" are all words that spring to mind, although not in that order. Seems I've inherited a bunch of old fuddy-duddies, or at least (and I hesitate greatly before using this horrible business cliche, but it seems so appropriate right now. Either that or my brain cell's fried and I can't be original anymore.) can't think outside the box or beyond their own known experience. If I have to hear the phrase, "It's always been like this..." or "ooh - that sounds like a lot of work" I shall scream.

It's been a long day already, and it's not going to get any shorter before it's out... not unless someone mucks about with the clocks, that is. Comedy "not quite awake" moment of the day came during this morning's GCSE lesson about retailers and wholesalers. I was trying to explain that some shops have their own warehouse and others use a wholesaler, but it came out as "some shops have their own whorehouse". Whoops!!

Aah. Long rambling post. Pseudo-philosophical whittering. Can you tell I've been to the pub?

Life is full of opportunities, of chances. Some you take; some you don't. Occasionally, you become refined and defined as a person by the opportunities you take, but generally it's more mundane than that. What people forget, sometimes, is that you can be defined too by the opportunities you DON'T take. Some you look back on with regret, but there are other times when rejecting an option is a positive move. This evening, for instance, I had the opportunity to leave the warmth and shelter of the British Legion and go home in the company of a certain bloke. I am filled with joy that I did not take that opportunity. But amused, also.

In a similar vein, I have a text conversation going on at the moment with my mate Heather:

Heather: Snog anyone at Wendy's party?
Me: Me? Snog someone? Surely some mistake?
Heather: Is that a polite way of saying that all of Wendy's friends are ugly?
Me: Not at all, just that I didn't have the courage to snog ANOTHER of Wendy's friends.
Heather: I'm sure Wendy wouldn't have minded.

Well - it's no good telling me that now. This information would have been very useful four days ago, but is absolutely diddly-squat use now. Ptcha!

Other news - confirmation of roughness:

Yep I can certainly agree that Mad was very rough the morning after the wedding! - Caz

I bet I wasn't the only one though...

And also - Charl has booked flights for us to go to France to do 5 days wine-tasting at the end of August. Woo hoo!! :-)

Hangovers:

what, even worse than the one after the cov beer festival and green drinks night? --kaj

Oh yes. Tom, Caz and Pinky had the delights of observing my condition on the Sunday morning - albeit an hour later than intended - as I struggled to drink a cup of coffee. At least there weren't cigars involved in the Cov night out... say no more! :-)

K and Pete have been married for 150 days! Blimey!! That means it's been 149 days since I woke up with the worst hangover since the invention of hangovers. Doesn't time fly?!

And it's managed to lose one of my emails. If you sent a comment to me this morning via the box over there -----> please re-send it. Grrrrr, pah and harrumph. Off to invigilate, joy of joys.

This new internet filter thingy is annoying. Incredibly annoying. Lunchtimes will not be the same again... :-(

A final thought before I get back to my exam papers...

Blogspot have some sort of advertising malarky which throws up semi-text based banner adverts at the top of the page based on key words that appear on that site. For instance, Pinky's blog often shows banners for Amsterdam, Caz's site links through to New Zealand, and Karen (over at Pulp Friction) will have links to Survivor, which has been one of her topics of conversation of late. What do I get? "www.partners-plus.co.uk - for those looking for a little bit extra from life". Ironically (but appropriately) clicking on the link results in a big error message and no partner (plus or minus). There - in an internet-bubble lil' nutshell - is the story of my life. Go on - shake your head in wonderment at the psychic abilities of the net...

Eyes stayed in one piece - convenient. Brain exploded though - too much marking, an over-full diary and too many meetings. It's gonna be a late one...

The Powers That Be have done something to the school's web filter thingamy, and now many of my favourite sites are rated as pornographic and therefore inaccessible. Some I can understand, but others are just inexplicable... Mal's site, for instance, unless he's radically altered the content of his site since I last visited!!

It's now trying to stop me posting about this - the first version of this post used the word "pawn" (alternative spelling) and it blocked me out of blogger as a result!! Eeek!! Better watch what I write...

My eyes feel like they're about to explode. Could be quite messy.

Things are much more balanced and in perspective now I've had a weekend away. My head of department was lovely when I spoke to him about the parent issue, but also this helpful advice found its way inward:

To combat irate parents: Get them to leave their address and post them a Mad action figure to keep them happy...

My only fear is that they might use the action figure as a voodoo doll...!!

The notorious pink dress got a double showing this weekend, firstly at a family friend's wedding, and then later the same evening at another friend's 30th birthday party. I had intended to change for the party, but the wedding speeches dragged on so long that I didn't have time to get into jeans and docs before leaping into the Madmobile and heading off to Cheltenham. My arrival was greeted with shocked looks and raised eyebrows: these people know me from SAGGA camp where I'm usually covered in mud... Jon summed up the crowd's opinion as he said, "Mad's got a pink dress. And legs. I've not seen either before!" Cheers! I had many pints, lots of lovely conversations, some great birthday cake and got to talk to some very cool people and cats, and am feeling much better about life. It doesn't help shift the pile of marking that's building up, but at least I feel able to smile again. Now, though, off to bed....

Zzzz....

Today can only be described as a roller coaster. There were lots of ups, including Guides and chocolate, a GCSE lesson and Irish-coloured pepper and cous-cous salad. There were, however, some horrendous downs, culminating with a hideous conversation with a parent who was objecting to me being unavailable when she phoned. Why don't people realise that if I don't answer my phone then I'm probably out doing teaching/preparation/marking/tennis/rounders/string orchestra/orchestra/junior pub quiz/D of E/serving tea/duty night, or possibly even out doing something for myself rather than for this school? I'm finding it hard to commit 90% of my time during term to this job - how on earth can they expect any more?

Useful suggestion of the day:

Concerning the wishlist; have you thought of using an electric blanket? They warm a bed wonderfully, although not as cuddly as the bed warmer I think you were thinking of

Cuddly was probably quite high on the list of required characteristics. Mind you, my Shaun the Sheep hot water bottle did a reasonable job, so I'm not complaining too much! Discovering that the window was open did actually explain at least some of the coldness...!!

Based on last night's wishlist, I am grateful for all of these:

((((mad))))

Mad here is a hug (}) are you okay? love Aims xx

*H*U*G*

With reference to the earlier Inferno test, more results straggle inward:

7th level of hell? I never knew you had a violent streak in you. A streak maybe, but not a violent one. Myself, I'm a sixer - a mere heretic. - Mal.

Wotcha! I finally found the time to take the test. Apparently, if such things are to be believed, I'm off to Purgatory. This should give me some time to practice playing the harp. :-)

Am I right in thinking that the Harp in question is some sort of lager?! Maybe that's just my sinner-ness shining though...

And finally in my inbox, an apology of the greatest magnitude:

Sorry for looking like a deranged vampire with a curry fetish in lunch! It was meant to be a cute ickle impression of Fatso. It was not.

Apology gracefully accepted, young sir, but I had to lie in a darkened room to get over it... just you remember how fragile and easily scared us wee teachers can be. Mind, although not cute or ickle it was a good impression of a chocolate-crazed Fatso, so that's OK.

Well, I never! (At least, not now I'm a teacher and therefore a responsible adult!!) (which roughly translates as "would love to have the opportunity but am struggling to find time at the moment...!!")

Wishlist for the moment:

• A stereo that plays my choice of CD when I want it to
  
• Cocoa with a big splash of Baileys
  
• A hug
  
• A warm bed, preferably with the bed-warmer still in it.
  

Sigh.

A friend of mine recently changed job, and therefore email address. I wrote to her, signing my mail as I always do: "love mad xxx". A couple of days later I received an automated email reponse from her company's mail server telling me that my mail was being quarantined because it failed their spam filters. It's KISSES, luvvy, not offers of free access to rude websites! Pcha!!

Drank lots of tea and some ribena. Did tidying and washing. Fed Fatso chocolate things until he looked sick. Otherwise, bored and seeking excuses not to work.

And for the person asking about the word hagiarchy, it means a rule or order of saints or holy people. Nothing to do with hags at all, and I hardly feel - especially given the judgement of Dante's inferno - that I belong in one!

New hair!! Off for lunch...

During the war, I was always up to date with the day's happenings. Newspaper, radio, telelvision and internet all came under close scrutiny every day, even when overseas. I knew that things had slipped a litte, but I've obviously lost the plot completely. When did Claire Short resign?! That one just passed me by completely. Am off to interrogate the grauniad closely...

In other news, this bon mot arrived today:

Having played the trumpet myself I'm not sure I would compare it to a dog, but then again I never played a dog.

There you go - that's that dilemma solved, with information straight from the horse's mouth, as it were.

A friend said today, "I used to play the trumpet. It was loud, smelly and there was lots of saliva. It was bit like playing a dog."

Kind of makes me glad to be a viola player.

Spent most of the weekend at a campsite near Cannock, carrying out planning for this summer's big event. It went well, and it all seems to be falling into place without too much stress. I promised myself that I wouldn't drink last night; that resolve lasted all the way to the pub, but somewhere between my Coke being ordered and it actually arriving, it magically transformed into a pint of Pedigree. Shucks.

The highlight of the weekend, though, was discovering that one of the Scouts from my patrol at GaSCiT 2000 is now a leader himself and is bringing his own Scouts this time round. Result: happy glowy feeling and a smiley Mad. However, I am also sleepy Mad - I woke this morning to bright sunlight shining on my tent. Listening to the birds singing cheerily in the trees, I decided it was obviously time to get up. I reached out of my cosy, warm sleeping bag and grabbed my clock. To my horror, I discovered it was 5.25am. Damn birds.

And feedback from the Inferno Test continues; Caz, just back from New Zealand, writes:

Hmm bit better than kaj ... on the 3rd level of Hell. Mind you we did cause a few raised eyebrows at the Gate in Singapore when donned with GGUK neckers saying on the UK landing card there isn't room for 'yes please' on the sex (M/F) question.

Whilst Auntie Charl proclaims

aha! level 6. Am off to eat in very nice restaurant now. Mmmmmm Charlx

My, my - what a lot of sinners we are :-)

Fact 1: The weather this week has been lovely - not exactly hot, but sunny and pleasant nonetheless.
Fact 2: I am camping this weekend (well - after school's finished on Saturday).
Fact 3: The first rain fell at 10.02 this evening and by 10.08 I had to have the windscreen wipers on full.

I sometimes get the impression that someone up there is laughing at me.

More readers confess:

I did the Inferno test a while back and actually got to Purgatory; which was obviously a relief! I've never liked being too hot anyway. - Signor Casey

On a somewhat related note, I read the description for the 9th level, and it all looks quite chilly down there - not the inferno I was expecting! And from a reader (who wishes to remain anonymous for fear of his missus finding out)

Um, 8th

Knowing the bloke in question, I suspect he's got an evil grin on his face, although he's pretending to be reticent and shy...

Having finished my marking for this lunchtime, I thought I'd examine my Dante inferno test results in a bit more detail. Although not in the least surprised that I scored lowly in the virtuous category, I am a mite alarmed that I could be classesd as violent. Bastards! Do thay know nothing?! Just wait 'til I get my hands... ahem.... The most pleasing thing about the whole shee-bang is that I am low on the gloomy category... obviously this week's whingy mood is lifting!!

Some of my associates, however, have not been so successful with their results:

Damn, and I only got to the second level. And there was me thinking that I was a bad girl!! -kaj

and Amy only got to Limbo. Come on, guys - get your acts together...!! ;-)

Mua ha ha!! How I love the internet and its ability to confirm things I have always suspected...

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Moderate
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Low
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Moderate
Level 7 (Violent)	Very High
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Moderate

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

This evening's post starts with this thought from Aims:

U have got a lot to write about

Actually, life is very busy, but blogging about marking gets tedious very quickly, and marking doesn't require me to turn my computer on. I have, however, got these snippets of joy to share with you:

Firstly, sitting with A block (year 10, or 4th year in old money) at lunch today, making polite conversation (as one does):
Boy: Miss, do you have a web page?
Me: [knowing that the inevitable is about to happen] Well, eurm, yes, as a matter of fact.
Boy: I thought so.
Me: [raising an eyebrow] Really. What gave you that idea?
Boy: I was doing some research for something to do with school and your name came up.
Me: Well, there you go.
Boy: I thought your site was very funny but I can't remember the address.
Me: [feigning sadness] Pity.

This proves that he has a lot to learn about funny/non-funny. It does, however, also explain his quizzical expression in class last week and his reference to my pink dress. All becomes clear...

Living in a boarding house, as I do, provides all sorts of entertaining moments. Wandering through the entrance hall today I overheard a boy tell a gaggle of 15 year old girls,"Well, at least he didn't catch you naked in your bedroom." Another ideal opportunity for the Emuss eyebrow to raise itself; I think I'm glad that I missed the start of the conversation!!

Last, but by no means least, I've sorted out my plans for exeat. Mark (my bestest mate from uni and now a computer geek) and I are heading back up to Durham to re-live our student days. I've not quite convinced him that nightclubbing in Klute is a good idea but I'm working on it... :-) Am very excited about getting back up north, albeit just for a couple of days - it's just not the same down here near the equator.

Taught some quite acceptable and productive lessons this morning, including one that featured hot chocolate and background music. Pah - must be getting soft in my old age!! Didn't make it to breakfast though...

A thought drifts inward from Auntie Charl:

hello mad, smile remember your students will remember you for the rest of their lives.

Oh no oh no oh no - just think of the psychological scarring that's already taken place. Mind, she does temper her message with this thought

(actually, perhaps now is a good time to make a break for it!)

Too true!! That one-way ticket to Outer Mongolia is looming ever closer!! :-)

Finally, this just in:

Solutions to the ant problem: 1) starve Fatso, then release. 2) put life-size cardboard cut-outs of Cilla Black around your flat. 3) Invite your lower 6th to remove them all manually in return for one week's prep remission. Or you could just buy some Raid.

How could I starve my little Fatso? It'd take weeks before he was thin enough!! I'll have to opt for number 2 instead. Now, where did I put those Cilla posters...?!

Ants in your pants make your belly button dance.

Ants in your food make you feel in a mood?!

Ants in the kettle get on your mettle?!?

Ants in the water filter really throw you off kilter?!?!?

Waaaah - they're taking over my flat and stealing my ability to rhyme..... :-(

Forgot to say: surreal moment of the day - logging onto Blogger this afternoon and seeing James Casey's Online Journal in the list of Fresh Blogs... noo nee noo noooo*!! :-)

(*the theme from The Twightlight Zone, in case you were wondering!!)

I tidied up my classroom today and a colleague nearly fainted when he saw my desk - normally it's a sea of paper, but I excavated some of the original wood finish using a time-honoured filing technique called the bin. I also found two pay slips and my last phone bill, which is always useful. I think.

I ran a session this afternoon giving extra help to some of the GCSE pupils doing the Foundation paper this summer. We had sweets and drinks (to be more accurate, they provided the sweets and I consumed them, ho ho!!) and the radio played gently in the background. I'd like to think that they learnt summat useful from it, even though the atmosphere was rather more relaxed than usual; certainly they all got on with some good quality work during the hour and seemed to understand more when they left than they did when they arrived. It's been a day of real job satisfaction - something that's been a tad lacking these past two weeks. Off to do tea, orchestra and duty in the house, in that order...

That blog post is an official entrant in this year's Self-Obsessed Blog Entry competition. This should cheer you up, though!

Am still exhausted from the weekend, all inspiration has deserted me and my eyes hurt. To top it all off, the internet at school's really slow today and it won't let me check my email. Whinge whinge moan moan.

These wise words drifted my way today:

You're at work, and you wonder why it's a nice bank holiday? Isn't it bound to be? Tom

So true, dear boy, so true...

The weather today is beautiful: the sun is shining, the sky is a lovely shade of blue, with small clouds whisping gently along the horizon. This defies the normal rules of logic, because Bank Holidays are meant to be miserable, with freak snow and hail. Today, however, is one Bank Holiday that bucks the trend. Sadly, I shall not be enjoying it. Instead, you will find me tucked away in my classroom, trying to be enthusiastic. That's right, folks - I'm in work. Pants.

Fatso Update: cute but eating everything in sight. He's eaten half of his plastic ladder, and is now making a good attempt to break out from his new space hamster ball by chewing. I can't question his dedication to his food... It's obviously true that pets resemble their owners!! ;-)

Later updated: he's acting a bit shifty today, scuttling round his cage at a great rate of knots. Maybe the plastic contains E numbers.

A thought just in...

You are a bizarre character? What on earth makes you want to write all this nonsense?

One of the great unanswered questions of all time, I'm afraid. However, today I have been teaching multiple choice technique to my lower sixth, so will continue this theme by presenting you with a range of possible answers. All you have to do is choose the one that best fits...

A: Teachers have the most exciting lives; I'm merely performing a service to humanity by letting you share the joy
B: I own shares in my ISP
C: I don't have the foggiest, but it seemed a good idea at the time.
D: All the best people have one, and I'm a sheep.

Just look at each answer carefully, decide if it's definitely wrong (put a cross), possibly right (put a question mark) or definitely right (mark with a - yup, you've guessed it! - tick). Make sure you read all of the options carefully before making your final decision - they often put a "possibly right" one first, just to trick you. Teachers are sneaky like that.

A few nights ago I drank rather a lot, became a tad emotional as the evening drew on and ended up whittering at a colleague for some time. On seeing him today, I felt it only right and proper that I should grovel profusely:

Me: Eurm, about the other night, sorry... I obviously become maudlin when drinking port.
Him: Well, at least you don't become Christ Church.

Ba-doom tiiish!!

It's going to be one hell of a weekend, folks. Hang onto your hats and let's review the schedule:
Friday: Teaching, umpiring a charity netball match, serving tea in the House, orchestra, Guides, duty in the House.
Saturday: Teaching, parents' meeting, meeting about a Guide camp qualification, serve tea, duty at a social.
Sunday: Leave 8.00am (on a Sunday, I ask you!), travel to London, rehearse, play in a concert here, go for a drink, travel home, collapse.

As Tony would say, chuffin' Norah!

I spent my holidays during university working for this bloke. Reading this article brought it all flooding back... I miss those days.

Sleepy and hungover, but muchly appreciative of this

Tick, tick, tick. A gift from Father Time.

and this

I'm afraid I don't have any spare thyme. Parsley do? --paj

Anyhow, am off to think up an acceptable excuse for cancelling this afternoon's rounders session - it's a hard job but someone's got to do it...

Fuck. It's May. This year's going too quickly. Please send me some more time.

First of all, please notice the time. This is well past my best before date, but I've been out. Whoops. Thoughts arriving:

Another netball suggestion from Tom J: The girls also learned which type of ball was most effective; golf balls were good at removing eyes, while bowling balls are better designed to break legs.

'Tastic. This leads me on to commento numero dos:

You realise you have two Toms sending you comments. Or are you just Mad? Tom

Aye. Two Toms. One growed up and sensible, the other... Ah. Both growed up, but only one going out with Caz.

And as for those who couldn't translate the Spanish earlier:

It rained in pitcherfulls until we were soaked to the bone, not as good as kittens that suck :D

But I don't know the Spanish for "kittens that suck", so I'll have to pretend, in true GCSE fashion... kittenos qui sucko

Am in a bit of a quandry re:career, but think the best thing to do is go to bed.