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.