BIG bullets!

2012-09-11, 10:15 p.m.
Trying to think of something to write about today.

There�s a whole mess of school stuff but its boring, OH so boring! Not to me, obviously, because I like my job but not exactly riveting reading for youz guys.

I think I might do a bit of a bullet point thingy and see if I feel like expanding on any of it later. I say �later� as I�m actually sat in the pub at the moment, while L does a bit of practice with the pool team. I don�t usually chaperone him like this but�.well�.more on that later, maybe.

  • Back to school and I cant even BEGIN to tell you how nice it is to hear the occasional shout of �Miiiiiiissssss!! You�re BAAAAAAAAACK!!� I know it�s verging on the inappropriate and most definitely unprofessional, but I have high-fived, this week. Several times.

  • Speaking of school, we have CRUMPET! Chigley Academy has something of a dearth of male eye-candy, generally speaking, what with schoolteachers not being exactly known for their hottitude. Some of the bigger girls go a bit swoony over the young English teacher with the winklepicker shoes and the Dr Who scarf, but I have also heard girls say �Mr O! Omigod, Miss, he�s a twat!� Oh, and there�s a certain Deputy Headmaster in his early 50s who makes me giggle and simper like a ninny�but that�s just my slightly suspect taste in men.

    But I digress! In the �Cheap Teacher Gang� (or �Cover Supervision Team� as it�s probably more officially called) there�s generally four of us. Young J, Pregnant A, Boy M and me. Boy M has gone to train to be a proper teacher � he still talks to us but you can tell his mind�s on loftier things � like actually knowing something about Humanities before he has to REALLY have to teach it. Pregnant A, as of yesterday evening, is now �Mummy of a Brand New Baby Boy Called Sebastien A� which (if nothing else) excludes her from our gang by virtue of having an unfeasibly long nickname. Oh, and by virtue of not being at school as she�s just given birth, obviously. That leaves Young J and me.

    Enter Mr Ipanema! Tall and tanned and young and lovely he certainly is! With the added bonus of shiny white teeth, a smile that looks like someone drew around a banana and some of the most impossibly snug t-shirts that I have ever seen wrapped around a gulp-worthy set of pecs/abs/biceps/other bits that I can�t think of the proper names for.

    Needless to say he is at least twenty years too young for me, but he is crumpet nonetheless and I think it�s probably alright for me to perve on him as long as I don�t do it too obviously.

    Followed a senior member of staff up the stairs on the first day of term and heard her say �Fucking HELL! Who�s THAT?� With one voice and quick-as-a-flash, Young J and I said �Fuck off Patsy, he�s OURS!� and then fell about laughing at our own cleverness�.and patheticness.

  • Off to the jolly old hospital tomorrow, for what I hope will be the last appointment for at least six months. I very much hope that they will tell me that I am all better (or at least as good as I am going to get at two days short of 46). I also very much hope that I will pluck up the courage to ask them about some embarrassing and confidence-shattering side effects/after effects�.but I probably wont. *sigh*

  • Jooj is gone. She started at the new fancy schmancy school last week. The first day, she cycled to the station, took her bike on the train and all was good. The second day, she fell off her bike about 100 yards from our house, got back on, fell off again and phoned me, tearful and shaken. She walked back to the house, covered in blood and studded with gravel. On the doorstep I hugged her and she burst into tears. I gave her the day off and sent her to bed, especially as she only had lessons in the morning and the afternoon was taken up with fencing lessons (TOLD you it was a fancy school!). L drove her to school the next two days and we ordered some panniers for her bike so she wouldn�t have to cycle with bags slung over her shoulders again but by Friday afternoon she had conceived of a plan to stay at Shagnasty�s (half a mile from the school) during the weeks and come home on the weekends when she would usually be here (but not the weekends when she would normally be with him). That means she went off on Monday morning and I don�t get to see her until NEXT weekend which, frankly, is TOO BLOODY LONG!

    Had a very funny conversation with Shagnasty as I was loading Jooj�s bags into the car last night. I think he wanted to check that I was OK with her being at his house for so long cos, yeh, we do totally have that �custody battle� thing going on now, after 11 years apart. Not. But, as he is a twat, and not very good at verbalising his feelings (I know this as, if he had been, he would have at some time past said �I do not love you any more and am shagging your friend�) what he actually said was �What shall I do? She might want to talk to me or something! I don�t�I can�t�.she�.I don�t know what she talks about! She talks about things I don�t know!�

    I could have been sympathetic, but instead I said �How do you think I feel? Who am I going to talk to now? Cant you take them two (gesturing towards the house, where L and Treacle were eating biscuits) and leave her for me?�

    He laughed�.but I can totally tell that he was trying to work out how that might be workable.

    So, she�s gone. I have already stood in the middle of her bedroom and felt VERY SAD INDEED, which is a bit crap of me as she is coming over for tea on Thursday and will be back at the end of next week anyway. My new plan is to teach her to drive the DAY after she turns 17 in November and then her dad will get her a car and she can drive to school FROM MY HOUSE and order (and conversational harmony) will be restored to the universe.

  • Thursday is my birthday. In a break from tradition, I will not be spending it in a cheap restaurant with my husband and kids, pretending that I don�t mind that I have had to make my own cake. Instead, I have a Homework Club duty after school. Then I am picking Jooj up and we are getting fish and chips to take back home for all of us. After that, me and Jooj are going back into town to watch a one-man performance of a humorous play about the life of the poet John Donne before I take her back to her dads. Treacle and L turned up their collective noses at such a tedious way to spend an evening and have planned themselves a few hours of conspicuous consumption of DVDs and chocolate. Me and Jooj are delighted to be able to get our intellectual on, in a highly uncharitable air-of-superiority way. Well, it IS my birthday! I should be able to do what I want. And what I want is to be able to go to a play about John Donne, with someone who knows who John Donne is.

    I have asked for a tambourine for my birthday. Because I need one.

  • L is now into day 2 of his rehab programme. I don�t want to talk about that.

    • later
    s
    x

    PS Those bullet points weren�t exactly concise, were they!





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