The sun is shining, the weather is crisp, I feel awake and invigorated: today is a day for learning new things. For example, how to put pictures onto this humble tome. I may even have to relinquish luddite status at this rate!

I took part in a half-marathon yesterday. I had the stamina to keep going nearly all the way: I only stopped once, when my body felt it had had enough; it soon saw the error of its ways. Now I feel a great sense of achievement and am much better prepared to tackle the day/week ahead. Here're the details of my epic journey:
8.00pm Feel sleepy
8.10pm Choose a book
8.15pm Give up reading and start sleeping
2.45am Wake up feeling refreshed and ready to go. Look at clock.
2.46am Read another 5 pages of book. Fall back to sleep
8.20am Wake up. Bounce out of bed.
Feelin' good!

Not drununk, but still squinty-eyed. Teaching tomorrow. Ah. Whoops.

There's a job advertised this week teaching Economics and Business Studies in Nepal. I am sooo tempted!

I love the internet. Have just had the most amusing messenger conversation, which I reproduce (in part, with spelling partly corrected) for you here because it is so bloody funny (well, it amused me and I need somewhere to record it for posterity!).

To set the scene, I'm talking with my younger brother, who's a bit of a biker/BMXer who's very attached to his broadband connection and online games, and is rarely seen wearing anything but jeans and a hoody. He's telling me about his Saturday night out in Birmingham:

forteh: the bouncer comes out and tells me that i wasnt going to get in
Mad: why?
forteh: think nothing of it cos im in a crowd of 10 pple
Mad: but?
forteh: get to the door and he says look m8 ive already told you your not coming in
Mad: why not? what did he say?
forteh: ask him why
forteh: get this
forteh: im too mainstream
Mad: LOL LOL
forteh: cos im wearing a shirt, trousers and shoes
Mad: You're not weird enough, sunshine!!!!!!
forteh: im too broadstreet
Mad: ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!
forteh: they dont want broadstreet types in thir bar
forteh: i was too much of a kevin ffs
Mad: Fucking hell!!!!
forteh: those were his words :(
forteh: too much of a kevin lol
forteh: i asked him if the bloke who had just gone in wearing pretty much the same was a kevin aswell?
forteh: he ignored that one
forteh: then we hung around for 10 mins whilst we got the pple out of there that had already gone in
forteh: he kept telling us every 30 second that theres no point hanging around cos we werent getting in
Mad: I bet he was a huge fucker too!
Mad: not someone to argue with!
forteh: we just told him we didnt want to go into his elitist pretentious fucking bar and we were waiting for pple
forteh: only about 6 or 5
Mad: dear me
Mad: did you really use the term "elitist pretentious fucking bar"?!?!?
Mad: FANTASTIC!!

What's more, this epic saga continued...

forteh: but i did get some praise about me sideburns lol
forteh: unfortunately from a bloke D:
Mad: ha ha!
forteh: he said how do you get your sideburns to grow like that :o
Mad: did you tell him your secret?
forteh: well dont have a shave and they magically appear
Mad: gosh!
Mad: I'd never have guessed that!! :-)
forteh: also cutting your pubes off and dble sided tape works well :o

I shall not be able to look at double sided sticky tape in the same way ever again. Ever. Am still giggling. Oh dear. I've finally flipped!

Marking exam scripts makes my braincell curl up and ooze round the edges. I'm not a good one to make conversation with, right now.

I've just done late-night check round the House and heard whispering in one of the bedrooms. Knocking quietly, I opened the door.

"Come on girls - it's twenty to midnight. You've got to go to sleep soon or you'll turn into pumpkins."
"OK Miss, sorry. You'd better go too, because you'll turn into a pumpkin as well."
"Oh, don't worry about that - I already *am* a pumpkin!"

"Have you been here before?"
"Yes, but a long time ago"
"So, what do you want me to do?"
"I don't care. Just cut it all off. I don't care what it looks like; it has a mind of its own and will do whatever it wants anyway"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes"
"OK"

wash

massage

comb

snip, snip, snip, snip

snipsnip

snip

flick

snip

snip, snip, snip

toussle

wax

preen in front of mirror

grin cheekily

"You know, it really suits you short"
"I know. I just don't have time to get it cut very often"
"Well, you must make time: no excuses"

Later...

"Miss E, you're looking very shiny and smart"
"No, dear child, it's the same crap clothes as usual - it's just new hair"
"Oh yes. So it is"

So there you are - shiny, smart and shorn.

I was challenged by Claire to take the condom quiz. I got 8/10 (more by luck than judgment!)

And, on a related topic, did you know that boiling condoms makes them stretch much further? You didn't?! You do now!

The hair's in for the chop. I can't stand it any longer. Thank goodness for walk-in appointments!

Exam invigilation has obviously affected my brain cell. Back to normality later.

Being a member of the Biritsh Legion, as I am, entitles me to a copy of Legion - the magazine with the best adverts in the world. What makes it even better are the accompanying catalogues, full of stuff that I never knew I needed:

• a 60 piece paint brush set
  
• a hand-held sewing machine
  
• an adjustable folding cane
  
• Giant clippers for tough toenails

In fact, this last item caught my eye, so I read on:

This GIANT Easy-Squeeze Toenail Clipper is extra gentle, and it cuts easier - so you don't have to squeeze as hard. Extra long handles lets you reach toes without straining. Cuts even the toughest toenails.

Now, I'm not sure I wuold categorise my toenails as particularly tough, but long handles sounds an attraction: getting rid of bending over is a definite bonus. Sadly, looking at the picture, they resemble a pair of pliers, suggesting that scrunching into a small ball will still be ncessary; perhaps I won't be adding them to my Christmas list after all!

It's that time of term where I finally turn into The Blob. Twelve weeks of attending tea and lunch in the House have had a rather adverse effect, and I'm even (shock horror) contemplating going on a diet, in a very vague sort of way. This, however, did not stop a colleague today asking if I'd lost weight.

"Oh, not at all," I replied, "It's just that my hair is getting bigger at a faster rate than my face is getting fatter."

"Oh," she said.

Although Darth Vader has worn off, I ache like an aching thing. Further proof, should more be required, that exercise is A Bad Thing.

I was unable to blog earlier: I started doing a credible Darth Vader impression, brought on by participating in a game of netball. Sadly the rest of the players were all 13, so kept running about everywhere very fast, whilst I was suffering from couch-potato-non-fitness and a distinct lack of sports-bra. Damn them and their young healthy lifestyle. Pah!

Now, however, I am propped back in front of the computer, having been to a Rotary meeting to speak with Claire on GaSCiT (this summer's big camp #1). It went well, and I was complimented on my presentation skills. I did point out that I'm a teacher and therefore have to make presentations several times a day (often to reluctant audiences!) but they seemed impressed nonetheless. At that point my head swelled, and I would have been home far sooner but I was stuck in the door. C'est la vie!

Today was mostly spent in SAGGA Exec meeting, which involved much talk of babies, a bag of Kettle Chips and a packet of Tang-Fastic Haribo. I now face the prospect of a nice pile of marking: I guess I'm the lucky one! The last few days have disappeared more quickly than I would believe possible and the kids are now back in school, ready to start lessons again tomorrow morning. Ick, ick, icketty-ick.

Sleepy now. Early start tomorrow. Aargh.

Today I shall be mostly singing in harmony. No, not with myself - I'm not Perdita X Nitt yet. Choons lined up for today include The Beach Boys, The Mammas and The Papas and then some sixties classics, where I can shoop and shawaddy to my heart's content. Just cover your ears if you're in the vicinity.

Oh no! They're launching a two-pronged attack on my comments box! Firstly

Don't tell me: A five-year-old is the right size for the Madmobile; rear leg/headroom not needed. Tom

Which is true, I concede; but then, also this:

So Mad is this Madmobile appreciator the new man in your life ;) Caz (and yes I am here with Tom)

The new man?! Well, he's a tad young at the moment, but I know I'd have no problems with the mother-in-law!

Went to Stoke today to have lunch with a friend. The Madmobile was much admired by her son, and I managed to complete his jigsaw game on the playstation so earned his total respect (to be fair to him, he's not yet five, so is unlikely to realise that there are far better women out there; his day will come)

I drove back through the fog, listening to Heart FM, partly because Friday night is 80s night, but also because I'm teaching promotion and advertising next week and want to be able to use contemporary examples of radio adverts. "Come to X shopping centre," we were told, "and meet Snow White, Jack Frost and Betty Twinkle." BETTY TWINKLE?! Who the hell is that?! She sounds like some sort of ropey porn star. AND they're encouraging kiddiwinkles to go and look at her. The mind boggles.

After recovering from *that* shock, I then went to Guides, where they were doing Christmas Crafts. I hate craft. Words cannot explain how much I loathe making things: fiddly cutting out; blobs of glue that then go manky-grey when the kids stick their fingers in it; glitter. In fact, glitter should be a whole category by itself. Ick. Needless to say, I spent most of the night tidying out the cupboard.

I have now discovered that I have dropped lumps of icing sugar into my computer keyboard, so I'm going to have to take the whole thing apart and clean it. Maybe I should have a beer first...