On Wasting Time At School And Other Business

I'm sitting in my classroom, and it's 5:07. I'm waiting patiently for Rachel to finish marking up some exams, whilst freezing my ass off. I'm not entirely sure why, but it seems as if the temperature in my room is constantly evading my comfort zone. It's either ridiculously hot and stuffy in here, or else bone chillingly cold. There is no happy medium, rather just a constant fluctuation that annoys me (and my students) to no end. Tonight it seems worse than usual though. My finger tips are actually a touch purple, which is never a good sign. That is why I decided to try updating the blog. A steady stream of blood to my fingers, spurned on by the insane pace at which I type, should help induce some warmth. My toes, however, are a lost cause.

In fact, it was just the other day that I realize that my feet are being left literally in the cold these days. It appears that with all my planning and packing, I've failed to sufficiently provide for my feet. The shoes I brought over were summer shoes, no doubt about it. Cute flats, a crummy pair of slip on trainers (that my mates affectionately call the ugliest shoes in the world, bless), and my tried-and-true red patent leather peep toes. Not the type of shoes that would see you through winter, in any country. No, I clearly was not thinking in terms of the distant future; winter.

I was watching Jason play football on Saturday, when I was struck with the complexity of my situation. It was minus SOMETHING for sure, and sitting on a bench watching the game was hell on earth (if hell happens to be an extremely cold place instead of extremely hot. It's a place of extremes, and that's all that matters). For all my bragging about being a 'tough and hearty' Canadian girl, it didn't take me long to admit that I was freezing my ass, and in this case toes, off. the flimsy little brown flats that I was wearing were doing nothing by way of protecting my toes from the elements. I tried in vain to position myself so that my feet were covered by some part of my body. I tried folding my legs up and sitting on them, but this was only comfortable for about five minutes before the bones in my heels started to dig into me. I tried to sit cross-legged on the bench, only to realize that sitting in this position is only feasible for children. Apparently I can't stretch well that way any more. It felt like I was going to pull my groin out, not to mention the fact that my tailbone was effectively placed in the most uncomfortable position ever; directly on the hard wooden slab that was my seat. I didn't last long sitting that way, that's for sure. I even took off my scarf, and wrapped it around my feet, in what surely must have made me look mildly retarded. Again, this did not provide me with the comfort I sought.

Instead, I took to bouncing my feet up and down off the pavement, in an attempt to get the warmth of my blood flowing to them. This tactic worked somewhat, but it still did not keep my feet from feeling detached from my body at the end of two and a half hours.

The entire time I was jiggling my feet, the thought of my lusciously padded Emu's was swimming through my head. I recalled a time last year, in Thunder Bay, when my previous winter boots and succumbed to the harsh realities of a true Canadian winter. The zipper had split down the side, as I tried to cram my increasingly warmth-protected feet and lower calf into them. Turns out those boots could only accept my bare leg, and not the jean and long-john clad one I tried to stuff into them. Shame, really, as they were a rather cute pair of boots.

The Emu's had been purchased after hours of deliberation in the Mall in Thunder Bay. Faced with -50 degree temperatures, I simply could not brave the elements without the best in foot protection. I looked at a few pair of Uggs, and nearly bought some, but the Emu's offered me something the Uggs could not; a stylish lace up look. The laces, I reckoned, would allow me to wear as many layers on my bottom half as was necessary. No bursting zippers here! I remember sinking my feet into the thick sheep's wool lining of the boots, and feeling an instant surge of heat. They were the toastiest thing I'd ever experienced. They were Divine. I laced up both pairs, and sauntered around the store, getting a real feel for the boots. My feet, even in my socks, felt as if they were snuggled deep within the bouncy, springy, soft confines of a sheep's back. I cooed at the way they looked on me in the mirror, and instantly was sold.

The true test was wearing them out of the store. Would they withstand the cold temperatures? Turns out they did, and then some. I was never with cold feet last winter. It was a delight.

It was these thoughts that were swimming through my head as I was shuffling my feet in vain. Why, oh why, hadn't I thought to bring my boots with me? My feet were screaming there discontent at me, as was my brain. Silly, silly girl. I suppose that's just my punishment though, for assuming that England wasn't nearly cold enough to warrant Emu's. All I know for certain is that they will be lodged solidly on my feet for the return flight. I want my first steps back in England in January to be in my snuggly warm Emu's.

But enough reminiscing....

Things are going relatively well at school. I feel like I am finally getting into the swing of things with my groups. They're finally, for the most part, starting to respect me. This means that they're actually taking what I say seriously, and participating more in lesson. It was a constant struggle last term, as you are likely well aware. Students are finally getting to know me, on a personal level as well, and I them. More and more of them are stopping in after classes to talk to me. This makes me feel well liked, as I rarely stayed after to talk to my own teachers, unless I a) liked them and b) felt comfortable with them. The only downside to this is that I think some of them like me a touch too much; not necessarily on a 'romantic' level (though some do, I'm told), but on a 'friend' level. I had always hoped to come across as a friendly, approachable teacher, but had hoped that I could draw the line at 'being a friend'. It has not,nor never will be, my intention to befriend the students. As a professional, it's impossible to be an effective teacher and their friend. You just lose too much authority in the process of becoming a friend. Some of my students, though, are increasinly telling me a tad too much. I won't get into it here, for privacy's sake, but some of them tell me things I don't really want to hear. These aren't things that are alarming on a safety level, but are more alarming on a 'shit, I don't want to know you're into that stuff at your age' level. Mind you, I was likely into at least SOME of the stuff they're on about when I was their age. Or perhaps not. I'm not sure, and frankly I would rather not go there.

I have, however, had more than one student come to me and tell me things about other teachers that is not very professional to hear. I make absolutly no comments back, either for or against what they say, but I still feel like it puts me in an awkward position. I don't really relish the idea of hearing students bitch and moan about my co-workers, and I certainly cannot comment on what the students are saying, as that would be 100% unprofessional of me. I also cannot, in good conscience, take their word over that of the people I work with. Rest assured, nothing they say is incriminating, but they do a great disservice to my co-workers on a personal level. It's a tad awkward to listen to, but in most cases I turn off my ears and then switch the topic of conversation. As much as I like to hear that I'm a well liked teacher, I don't like to hear it at the expense of my friends and collegues.

Well, I do believe that Rachel is ready to depart now, which means I must log off! I will try to update this a bit more frequently, but really it's all a matter of when time affords me the opportunity of leisure.

Until then, cheers!

On My New Man

Alright, so here is the bit that I can't include in my Janey Canuck Blog. I can't post it there for a number of reasons. First, I think Trevor reads it. Second, I know my mother reads it. Third, I know Jason reads it. All of these reasons combine to dictate that I do not, under any circumstances, post what I am about to write now in my PG blog. So, without further ado, here is the juicy details.

Three weeks ago, on the tail of the fiasco I had with Jon, I was out with a female staff member, Nima. She's a really wicked chick. She invited me out to introduce me to some of her boyfriends mates, which was a welcome distraction to me. For awhile it was just Nima, Marc (her boyfriend), his friend Ricky, and myself. Ricky was all over me, and while he wasn't totally ugly, he wasn't really my type at all. A bit hefty,if you catch my drift. After about half an hour of small talk, I decided I wasn't going to meet Mr. Man tonight, and turned on the friendly vibe. That's when I noticed this retardedly hot guy walking up the stairs. I openly stared at him, unconcerned, and thinking it was going to be a passing moment. Turns out it wasn't. He walked up to Marc, gave him that buddy-buddy hand shake that turns into a body hug. Then Marc introduced him to me. Jason. I put on my sexiest grin, and shook his hand while batting my lovely lashes. He grinned back.

We made small talk for awhile, then did a shot or two, then bought some drinks. The night was progressing well. I asked Nima if he was single, and she laughed while telling me he was.
"I KNEW you would like Jas!" she said.
"Oh yes, oh yes!" I giggled back.

Suffice it to say, I brought him back to St. Ives with me that night. In the morning, he was the cutest, most snuggly guy EVER. He told me he was infatuated with my accent, and that he thought I was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He kept putting himself down, saying that a guy like him could NEVER get a girl like me. It was well cute. We stayed in bed all day. It was kind of nice. We chatted, fooled around, and chatted some more. I felt a crush developing.

Things moved on from there, with a few lunch dates, dinner dates, and movies. And sex. Lots of really amazing, mind blowing sex. The best. Hands down. Amazing.

Did I mention he's only 19? Oops. Yah, he's only 19. And he's an amazing lover. It's....weird. He's TOO good. He likes to think it's just because we 'work well together'. You see, he's totally in love with me, already. He talks all the time about how amazing I am, and how he's never felt this way (though I know you are likely scoffing at this, saying he's too young to have a breadth of experience. To you nay-sayers, I say eff off. Rachelle. I'm talking to you, here. Ha ha ha!). He really does treat me like gold though. However, I should gualify this with the fact that he doesn't treat me TOO nicely. As you should be aware, I balk at being kept on too short a leash. Too nice guys get the boot sooner rather than later, with me. It's a sad but true thing.

Jason is the perfect mixture. He's mysterious enough at times to keep me guessing, but he's also adorable most of the time. He worships the ground I walk on, which is pretty nice.

I dunno...I like him quite a bit, which is well surprising, especially considering how I feel about the Trevor situation. That is MAJORLY confusing, as I still have feelings for Trevor. I keep trying to overanalyze the situation, and really guage my feelings on the two boys...but it's so hard. Obviously I like Trevor a lot. I think sometimes that he might be the one for me...and other times I think I'm kidding myself to think he'd wait around for me. Obviously I had thought I would wait for him, and look at what's happened? So with that in mind, I keep trying to justify my relationship with Jason. But what if Trevor is a tougher person than me? What if he really does love me too, and he's so committed to the idea of us that he isn't even entertainin the thought of another woman? What if I'm just a weak person? I worry about this sort of thing all the time. However, at the same time, I keep thinking that a) I don't expect him to wait for me, and b) he can't expect me to wait for him. Ugh. I dunno. Or maybe he can. Maybe I'm just such a huge whore.....

..but now, I'm not. Cuz I genuinely have feelings for Jason as well. It's not just about satisfying bodily cravings. I enjoy his company. But...if I am totally honest, I don't share the same intellectual bond with Jason that I do with Trevor. At least, not yet. Trevor and I talk a lot more on MSN, which is more emotionally sustaining at this point, and not physical. Perhaps if I lost the physical with Jason, and was forced to only do emotional, we'd reach that level too. Who knows? I haven't the foggiest.

I am well confused about the whole situation. In all honesty though, only time will tell. When I go home for Christmas, I will figure out for certain where I stand.If I am with Jason, but I feel intense feelings for Trevor, then I know what I have to do. But if I am still with Jason, and I realize I feel less for Trevor, then I again know what I have to do. Hopefully it is as cut and dry as that.

But enough for now. I am tired, and this mental stimulation is draining me.

Cheers.

On Copying and Pasting a LOT of Missed Posts

I am sooo sorry! I have been updating the Janey Canuck blog more frequently than this one. For those who read this for it's R rated material, you shan't be disappointed after today. I am going to cut and paste a bunch of 'lost' entries. Be prepared to read a lot, darlings...

Wednesday, November 12, 2008
On the Hunt Being On
The hunt is officially on. For what, you ask? A new place to live, in Cambridge. Yes. You've read right, my dears. I'm planning on making the momentous leap into big city life. Some of you may be wondering why. My response can be summed up in one word: convenience. Ever since I made friends with the staff, I've been out in Cambridge nearly every weekend. It was always a bit of a hassle, because I had to mooch a place to spend the night off of my co-workers. This didn't always end up working out too pleasantly, and I had more than my fair share of awkward moments. Anyways, over the past few weeks, I've spend an ever increasing amount of time in the city, not just on weekends. As such, the cost of commuting as started to outweigh itself in simplicity. I've had to catch a few cabs home, at the hefty cost of thirty pounds. If you convert that into Canadian dollars, it's around sixty bucks. For a ride that costs 6 bucks Canadian via the bus. Talk about a gigantic rip off. They hose you for everything you're worth in this country.

But I digress. The point is, while I can afford to keep commuting to my 'life' outside of school, I am putting my foot down, and refusing to do it. That is why, starting just the other day, I am actively searching for a new place to live in Cambridge.

I must admit, however, that my knowledge of the area outside the city centre is lacking immensely. Lucky for me, I've got a lovely boy who can help me pinpoint the location of prospective places. I'll also try to get him to come view a few places with me, should I ever reach that stage in the renting process. I'm picky, so I rarely agree to view a place unless I've been swept away. You've got to have the right feeling for it! It's kind of like dating; if you don't feel the initial spark of interest, there's no sense wasting your time!

I'm hoping to move after Christmas, but you never know. It could very well take longer (though I certainly hope that it doesn't, for a number of reasons). It would just be ridiculously convenient, and frankly a lot for fun, if I were located in Cambridge. The only downside is that, should I live close to the city centre, I will be tempted to shop more than I already am. Bad combination. Very bad, indeed.

I'll just try to limit my shopping addiction, that's all. I'll see what I can do. With Christmas coming up, and so many lovely people to buy presents for, it's a touch hard.

But anyways. Enough of that.

I haven't talked about school lately, so perhaps I should provide a brief update in that avenue.

Things have been going fairly well since half term ended. I really feel I came to a turning point with my year 10s. I won some of their respect, in allowing them to listen to their iPods while doing individual work. The only problem with that is that they try to put them in during group work, or even when I am talking, and I have to crack the whip and get them to put them away. However, I can't let them push me around, so I should really take no issue with having to constantly reprimand them for improper iPod use. Frankly, I could get into a lot of trouble with the school, should they find out I'm breaking the iPod rule. But it really does get the kids to work quietly during individual learning time, so I don't want to give it up. I had the assistant head principal sit in on a lesson with my 10s before the break, and they were absolute angels. Someone once told me that you can always tell whether a class likes you by how they behave when someone else is in the room. If they know its an important thing for you, and they like you, they will be on their best behaviour. If they don't give two shits about you, they will carry on like normal. If that is true, than I have to take their behaviour to mean they do like and respect me...they've just got a weird way of showing it.

My year 9s continue to be my problem class. The last lesson I had them, they would not settle down. When I tried to do a group discussion, they went absolutely ape shit. I had to shut off the lights, raise my voice, and threaten them with after school detentions in order to get them to work as I wanted them to. It's a constant frustration to me, as I don't think I should have to threaten them to get them to work. That said, again, when someone is observing me in lesson, they act like civilized beings...so they must, on some bizarre level, like me a little.

I was off 'sick' yesterday (mental health day...heh heh), and was told this morning that my 9s were the worst behaved children the supply had ever experienced. She told me that if she had to deal with those kids every day, she'd be handing in her notice and quitting. She asked me, with real concern in her eyes, if they were like that every lesson. I kind of smiled at her knowingly, shook my head in the affirmative, and told her I was a very strong woman. She laughed, and agreed wholeheartedly. I can only hope she goes to the department head, and lets her know exactly what type of children I deal with, because I think sometimes she doesn't believe they're that bad. I think she thinks if SHE had them, she could tame them. I think she's wrong. But then again, what do I know?

My 11s are alright. The top set ones, anyways. We've been doing exam preparation, which is INSANELY boring bookwork...there really is no way to jazz it up...and they've been, for the most part, taking it seriously. Hopefully they do well on the exams; that'd make ME look good, as a teacher. Fingers crossed. My bottom set, however, are likely to all bomb it, with the exception of perhaps two girls and one of the boys. They don't take any of the prep work I do seriously, and only do it half assed. In fact, its not even half an effort they give. For a response that requires a good solid 5 paragraph essay response, they write down 5 basic sentences, and then moan the rest of the period about how 'boring' my lessons are. Ugh. They are in for a rude awakening after the exams, that's for damn sure. I hope their parents care. They should.

My 8s, as per usual, are little dolls. They listen to me, do my lessons, and are generally sweethearts. I maintain my position on wishing to teach only year 8s and 7s in the future. They are the perfect age, and I would take on all the 8s and 7s at a school, just to not have to teach any of the other year groups.

But that's just selfish, isn't it? Everyone needs a challenge now and again. Even....me...unfortunately.

Hmm. Well, I have definitely yammered on enough for one evening. I am deathly tired, for some reason, and plan to hit the sheets shortly. I need a day of solid sleep, I think, to rest up my weary head. I think too much. It's a curse, really.

Cheers.


Friday, November 7, 2008
On Saying Some Stuff
Alright, so I am aware that, as per usual, I haven't updated much lately. To be fair, I've had an awful lot going on lately! It was a wild and crazy half term break....well less wild and crazy, really, and more breathtakingly amazing. I needed the break more than I thought, and seriously enjoyed it immensely. If I'm being 100% honest, it was probably one of the best weeks of my life. Edinburgh was, to put it lightly, the most amazing place I've ever been. Everywhere I looked was something ridiculously beautiful. This sheer history of the place awed me. I also loved the atmosphere of the city. It was so vibrant and fun, bubbly and amazing. I loved every second of it, and I would seriously consider moving there some day. It was amazing. I am officially in love with the city of Edinburgh.

Anyways, more than that happened over the half term as well. I'd love to get into it here, but some things should remain personal. If you really want to know, ask me! The only tidbit you'll get is that I'm happy, and I think I'll be happy for awhile now. :)

Well, perhaps when I get bored this weekend I will write more. Right now my heart is just not in it.

Cheers!
Posted by Krista_Carson at 7:52 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, October 22, 2008
On Knowing I am NOT a Crap Teacher
So today I had a good day teaching. I had my lovely year 8s, and my bottom set year 11s. My lessons went well, and the kids don't hate me. My 8s.....I wish all my classes were like my 8s. Teaching them has really made me want to go home and get my Junior/Intermediate qualifications, because I much prefer teacher that age group right now....not so much the 9s, as they are Intermediate...but the Juniors....they're dolls. I can work on my 9s though.

Anyways...I just really wanted to get that out there...that I've realized, after a really really shit day...that I am NOT a shit teacher. I am a very good teacher. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't.

I can't let them get me down, and I'll try not to in the future.

Cheers.
Posted by Krista_Carson at 8:33 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
On Letting Staff See Me Cry
Well, I've given the story away with the title today. I cried at school. Again. The only difference between this time and all the other times is that people walked in today. I also cried more than once, in front of different people. God, I am weepy. So green. So embarrassing. Here's how it went down...

Tuesday I usually dread, because I start the day off with my year 9s. There is a staff briefing every Tuesday and Thursday, where they give us coffee. Usually I inhale a cup of super sugary brew, because I need the extra caffeine to deal with them. I sat through the meeting today, chugging my coffee, and hoping that it wouldn't go as badly as it went last week.

It started off alright. A few of the students weren't there at first, and when the kids came in they quietly got down to work. I was pretty impressed, and even commented on how pleased I was with how they'd entered the room and gotten down to business.

As I was doing the roll call, a group of fairly bad students wandered in. They were already late, so common courtesy would dictate that they SHOULD enter quietly. Instead, they stormed in, making as much noise as humanly possible.
"Sorry Miss," one of the boys said, a stupid cocky grin plastered on his face. "We got held back in form time...had to have a private conversation with our tutor. Man to man..."
"That's fine..." I said, "But if you're going to come in late, at least do so quietly"
"Yah, Jimmy (name changed, for obvious reason)...remember what we were told. Smarten up," the other boy said, sarcastically.
I glared at them until they sat down, then continued on with the lesson.

I was reading 'Lord of the Flies' aloud. I can't let the kids read it themselves, because they'd never do anything. Usually there are minor disruptions while I read, and today was no exception. Usually I roam around while reading, which is a feat in itself to do without tripping and falling, so I cruised around putting out one interruption after another.

The two boys who'd wandered in late though, could not settle down. They kept shouting each other's names out as I read. I'd go stand by one, giving my hard teacher stare between words, only to have the other one do something stupid and distracting. So then I'd have to move over there, and repeat my actions. I guess I should have removed one of them, but it's so hard to think of the right thing to do in the heat of the moment. Regardless, it was obvious to me, and to the entire class, that they were playing with me. Other boys in the class started to pick up on it, and decided they wanted in on the game. Random coughs started throughout the room. I could never figure out who was making what noise, so it was hard to stop it. I'd stop reading, stare at the clock, and wait for their silence, but as soon as I started to read again the minor irritations would begin again.

A different boy, who is always a bit of a firestarter, started to really act up. He put his hand up while I was reading, so I stopped to ask him what his question was.
"Nothing, " he said. "I'm just bored."
I felt myself getting pretty angry, but I chose to ignore his bratty comment, and plowed ahead. The girls in the room were all devotedly following along with the reading, and I didn't want to deprive them of learning, just because the boys were deciding to immature.

The distractions didn't stop though, as the boys started to really push me around. A cough would issue in one corner, followed by a fart noise in another, followed by a name being shouted in another. Finally, having had enough of this nonsense, I finished the chapter.
"Alright. Since you guys aren't going to let me read aloud, you can finish the book independently. I want everyone to turn to chapter 12, and start reading. If I hear a single peep, even one little noise, you're asking me for an after school detention," I said.
The girls all started reading instantly. The boys were hesitant. I could tell most of them didn't want to chance an after school with me.

I started to stroll around the room, to ensure everyone was reading, and instantly heard chatter from the front when I was at the back.

I whipped around, to see who it was, and low and behold, it was young Jimmy. I walked slowly towards him. He saw me the entire time, but gave me a rebellious look.
"Diary please," I demanded when I got to him.
"Why Miss?" he asked.
"You were talking. You heard what I said. Diary please."
"Oh MAN...this is bullshit. Other people were talking, but you ALWAYS pick on me. This is retarded. I hate this class. This is a crap teaching group, and you're even more of a crap teacher. We don't learn anything, and you ALWAYS pick on me and never anyone else. I hate you and I hate this class. Everyone hates it," he ranted. "This is complete bullshit."
I tried to calmly write in his planner that he had a detention with me Thursday, but my hand was shaking, because I was getting a bit upset. The entire time I was writing, he was causing a huge scene, bitching and moaning about what a "crap" teacher I was. I'm not going to lie, it was really really hard for me to not cry right then and there.

I finished writing, and then turned to face the class.
"Anyone else want to join Jimmy?" I asked.
Silence.
"Good."

I started to walk away, and instantly heard Jimmy mumbling under his breath about what a shit teacher I am, and how crappy the lessons are.
I wheeled around to face him, and gave him quite possibly the dirtiest look on the face of the planet. He gave it right back. It was 100% evident that he HATED my GUTS. I'm not sure if you've ever seen a kid look at you that way....but it's really hard to take. It crushed me a little bit, and I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it goes back to my being completely naive and stupid. I guess a ridiculous part of me wants to be liked. I know that's not important, and I also know it's impossible ... you can't get everyone to like you, especially not people you're supposed to have authority over. I definitely have to get over that. But I haven't yet. I'm working on it.

I stared him down though, until finally he gave up and opened his book.

Meanwhile, the firestarter boy I told you about earlier fed directly off Jimmy's behaviour, and started talking as loudly as he could to the person behind him.
I strolled over to him, and asked for his diary. Jimmy instantly started bitching again. I couldn't deal with that now though.
"WHAT?!" the other boy screamed.
"Your diary. It should already be out. Get it out now," I said, trying to stay calm.
"I don't have it," he said defiantly.
"Right, well you know the automatic response to not having your diary with you," I said, knowing he would cave.
"FINE!" he said, bending to rummage in his bag.
He pulled the diary out, throwing it on the table.
I opened it, and started writing.
"What are you writing?" he asked.
"That you have an after school with me," I said.
"WHAT?! BULLSHIT. This school is fucking anal. Every FUCKING thing I do..." he said.
"Wow. You're really heaping on the reasons today, aren't you?" I said, as I wrote more.
"Fuck you, and fuck this school. I'm NOT coming. I'm going on holiday anyways, so it's pointless to assign one," he said.
"Well, you'll just serve it after half term," I replied.
"The hell I will," he said.
"Try skipping it, and see how that turns out for you," I said.
"Fuck this, I'm out of this STUPID class. You're an asshole," he yelled at me. He threw his chair down and whipped past me and out the door.
I stared after him, unsure of what to do.
The class started to giggle.
I looked over at Jimmy, and he looked back at me, a smug grin on his face. It was like he was telling me he wasn't the ONLY one who thought I was crap.

"Keep reading," I said meekly.

They all bowed their heads, and read silently for the last 5 minutes. I wandered through the room, aimlessly, going over all the things that had JUST happened. Finally, it was time to dismiss them.

"Jimmy, I need to talk to you a moment," I said.
Everyone filed out, all of them giving me either looks of total disgust and hatred, or sympathy.
Jimmy was staring at the floor.
"Give me your diary," I said.
He started to protest, but I told him it wasn't a bad thing.
I crossed out the after school detention, and wrote in lunchtime detention.
"I shouldn't even do this, but maybe it'll serve as a warning to you. I expect way better from you. And frankly, when you say, in front of the entire class, that I'm a crap teacher....well on a personal level that's not nice. I don't like that. I'm a person too, Jimmy. That hurts."
He glanced up at me for a second, then looked back at the floor.
"I know. I'm sorry. I said it in the heat of the moment, and I shouldn't have. Ask my Mum...I do that a lot. I didn't mean it," he said.
"It doesn't matter if you meant it. You said it, people heard it, and it's rude and disrespectful to me for you to say that. It makes me look bad, and it makes you look bad. You need to control yourself...."
"Yah. Okay. Sorry Miss," he said. He was squirming. It was obvious to me he wanted to leave.
The mean part of me wanted to make him squirm some more, but instead I told him he could go....but that his mother would be hearing from me.
He shot me a worried glance, before hardening, and turning away.
"Things have to change, Jimmy," I shouted after him.

I walked around the room, pushing in chairs, collecting forgotten books. My mind was racing a million miles a minute. I kept replaying in my mind Jimmy calling me a crap teacher. The venom in his voice rebounded in my head. I walked to my desk, and collapsed into my chair. I stared at the computer monitor, my eyes starting to well up with tears. I tried to fight them back, tried to think of anything else. Anything but the fact that I was officially a crap teacher.

Louise walked into my room at that moment.
"Are you alright?" she asked, "How were they?"
"Crap," I said. "Totally awful."
"Aw, what happened?" she asked.
"I....I....." I started to say. I couldn't finish. I hid my face in my hands, and started to cry. I mean, really really cry. None of this watery eyes, emotional shit. Actual hard weeping.
"Oh my god, Krista, no! Don't let them do this to you! Don't cry!" she said. She put her books down on the nearest table, and walked over to me. She put her arms around my shoulders, and pressed her face against mine. It was actually very comforting. I haven't had someone, especially a woman, be so intimate with me in awhile. It was very motherly, and it was kinda nice. I couldn't stop crying though.

She let me cry, rubbing my back, and nuzzling my hair.
"It's alright. You can't take what they say personally. You are NOT a crap teacher. It is not your fault they are a difficult group. You're doing everything you can. And we will work to make this right. It is NOT you. Don't EVER let them tell you it's you. It's not you."
Allison walked in at this point. She saw me crying, and walked over.
"Jesus. The little shits...don't let them get to you. They are not worth it," she said.
I started to suck it up, at this point. I opened my desk to get some tissues, and started to dry my eyes.
I explained to them what had happened. Louise was indignant, and told me to talk to Leslie.
"They have to know they can't get away with bullying you, which is what they are doing," she said.
I agreed with her, and resolved to not only talk to a LOT of mothers, but to talk to Leslie too.

I did talk to Leslie, later in the day. It was between my double period with my 10s, at lunch. She came in, asking if I was alright. I don't know what it was, but the look on her face made me burst into tears again. I started to weep harder than before, as I tried to explain the story to her.

She was livid. She told me she would pull the two main boys out of class that afternoon, and exclude them from my next lesson. Then she gave me some words of wisdom, and some professional advice. I could tell she felt bad that I was crying...I felt bad too. Its horribly embarrassing to cry in front of your boss. I felt like such a rookie. I still feel like the biggest rookie on the face of the planet.

But this class...this class is getting the best of me. The worst thing is, I don't know how to fix it. I was trying, trying really hard...and I was making SOME headway....but obviously not enough.

Anyways, I just felt like shit the rest of the day. I had to try to teach my last period, after balling my eyes out to Leslie, as if nothing was wrong. I'm sure the kids could tell. You can always tell when someone's been crying...and I'd cried TWICE in the day. My eyes were a bit puffy....not very attractive.

It's just such a huge embarrassment to me. I hate being such a sensitive sap. Such an open book. I wish I could learn not to wear my emotions on my sleeve. I wonder when I will grow that hard skin that so many teachers have? Maybe by the end of the year? I can only hope.

It doesn't help that on a personal level, my life is pretty bland right now. I come home, and all I really want is someone to turn to, to talk to...and I'm met with the solitude of my own room. My roomies are nice, but they've got their own lives, and I don't factor in very high...plus the language barrier makes it a bit hard. The thing I want more than anything right now is to just rest my head on someone. A hug'd be nice. Just a hug, where I could take a deep breath, close my eyes, and forget about how crap my job can be sometimes. Just melt into nothing. And I don't just mean a dude here. It could be my Mama, or my sister, or my best girl pals. But a fellow'd be nice too.....cuz they've got nicer arms, and no boobies to get in the way of a nice lay-down. Oh how I'd fancy a snuggle. Ha ha ha!

God, I want to go home. God, I want half term to come....I need a break from my life, and Scotland will provide just that.

I need a drink.

I need a lot of things.

I need a hug most of all.

Cheers.
Posted by Krista_Carson at 7:08 PM 0 comments


Monday, October 20, 2008
On Laughing at Myself
Oh dear, dear me. Ha ha ha! Do you ever get in those emo moods, where all you want to do is punch something really soft and malleable, just to feel better? I think I was definitely in one of those moods the ENTIRE weekend. I was a snarly, nasty bitch....to everyone and their mother. One of my students told me today she saw me walking down the street in St. Ives (on my way home from my horrendous night in Cambridge), and she said I looked like I had just gouged someone's eyes out...in other words, I looked very very angry. Go figure. I was. As such, I probably should have stayed AWAY from this blog...and quite possibly Facebook AND MSN...because after re-reading what I wrote....well...holy shit....anger abounds. Anger and a little bit of self pity.

Alright, heaps of self pity.

Whatever. I'd like to think that happens to the best of us. Or at least the best WOMEN out there. We're emotional weirdos, and you know it. Hormones fluctuating on a monthly basis, and all that. That is 110% my excuse. Also, booze and tiredness added to the general shittiness of my mood. Yikes. Watch the eff out.

Anyways, I am totally out of my funk today, and back in typical Krista Carson form. Ready to talk on the world, one day at a time. I'm still missing a TON of people back home...one or two more than others....and I'm still regretting SLIGHTLY my decision to come here. Again, the career reasons are all right....but on a personal level the timing couldn't have been more shit. Although, I do blame myself for that as well. I took my sweet ass time this summer, realising right from wrong. Wasted a loooooot of time. Stupid, stupid. Ah well. I figure next summer I can make up for past mistakes, and take what I should have taken ages ago.....And all that. I've likely said too much, but I doubt highly that the person in question reads this rubbish...and if they do, I'm not very ashamed to admit the truth....Though I am embarrassed JUST enough to not actually come out and say what I mean. Ha ha. Again, typical Krista Carson form.

If that person DOES read this...well shit. You should have a pretty clear idea of my intentions now, so consider yourself warned. I'm used to getting what I want, so....yah....it's basically game over for you.

Ha ha. Unless, of course, I've misread the situation AGAIN....which wouldn't be very surprising, considering I ALWAYS do. Ha ha ha ha! Ah well. One day I will get it right.

But I digress.

I leave for Scotland in a few short days. I am very very excited about this trip. I'm going with a few other teachers that came over with Dream, the stupid company that recruited me. At least two of the guys, if all goes as planned. Should be interesting. At least I know they'll protect me from Scottish weirdos...should those exist. Though I'm not sure who will protect me from these blokes, should that situation arise. Ha ha. Naw, it won't. Though...I AM pretty irresistible. My girlish good looks, and outrageous personality win over even the most skeptical of men....even if just for awhile. Ha ha ha. Jokes, jokes. I'm not full of myself, honest.

But I do intend to be a touch flirty with any Scottish honey's I may run into during my travels. The plan is to hit a lot of pubs at night...and if I go dressed to impress, with my face and bod all sexified, speaking in my.....irresistible Canadian accent (yah right!)....well I'll be the hit of the century. Mmmmmm. Gerard Butler, watch out. It's time for the return of the mack.

Jokes, jokes.

But seriously, amped for the trip.

I'm also looking forward to Friday night. A girl from work, Nima, wants to take me out on the town with her. Girls night out. I plan to look super duper sexy, and just work the ego all night. I'll be sultry and coy all night. See how many hearts I can break in an evening, perhaps. I'm good at that. I can put up an amazing front, ha ha ha. It's all in the eyes. Even though I'm probably the nicest, sweetest, un-sex kitten girl on the face of the planet. Hence why I always get s-crewed (and NOT literally, thank you. Figuratively. Remember...nice Canadian girl here).

Well...I mostly just wanted to write to let you all know that I'm fine and dandy. Back to being my confident and strong self. Ain't nobody going to keep me down. I'm a damn fine lady, and fuck you if you don't know it!!

Cheers, my darlings.
Posted by Krista_Carson at 7:34 PM 0 comments


Sunday, October 19, 2008
On Hating My Life
Well, when I last posted, on Tuesday, I was on my way to having a pretty shit week. Turns out that I wasn't even close to thinking how shit it could get. Wednesday was alright, as it was the trip to the Think Tank. Thursday was pretty tough, and Friday was a shit storm. All of my classes were like hyperactive, yet uninterested twats. Nothing was going the way I wanted it to go, and the students were pushing me around like never before. After last period, I sat at my desk and just wallowed in how awful the day had went. I'd be lying if I said I didn't cry. I did. Then people started to wander in (which never happens), so I had to suck it up and try to appear alright. I doubt that worked well, since I've never been good at hiding my feelings. Like a goddamn open book. I wish I wasn't, because there's nothing I hate more than people's pity. I got a lot of that Friday...and it makes me want to be sick. Don't feel sorry for me. Everything that goes wrong in my life is my own fault. I make my own choices, and the fact of the matter is most of those choices are the wrong ones. I am notorious for being a stupid, stupid, naive girl. Very naive. I believe everything people tell me...and then wonder why I'm always getting hurt. People lie. I should know that by now....

Sometimes I really wish I'd never made the decision to come here. I get that it will be good for my career...that I did it for that reason alone. But there are so many personal reasons why I shouldn't have come. I'm a strong person, but only up to a certain degree. I don't know how much longer I can put up this front. I'm not happy here, and I haven't been in awhile. I thought maybe I was starting to enjoy it...but no...I was kidding myself. When it comes right down to it, when something goes wrong, and I need someone to talk to, I've got no one. I miss my family, and I miss my friends, and I miss....a lot. And when I think about what I COULD have had, if I had stayed...well it's frustrating. I'm very tempted to book a last minute flight home for half term....but I think that'd just make life a lot harder...cuz I wouldn't want to come back. I'd spend time with the people I miss, and realize that this isn't worth it. As it stands, I think my best bet is to throw myself into this last week, go to Scotland, and try to just forget how much I miss home. I dunno......I'm so fucking mad right now. Mostly at myself though.... but that will pass.

Anyways, I was just listenin to a song by The Script, and was like "damn, this song describes me to a T".....so I'll leave you with that, while I go sulk some more.

Cheers.

Don’t keep yourself away
Don’t live your life that way
Of course he’s gonna say anything you want
Then leave quicker than he came now you got yourself to blame

Don’t put yourself back in the fire again
It’s the same damn things you’re so quick to believe
You do it over and over again
And it’s the same mistakes that I’m watching you make
You do it over and over again

So before they bring you down
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything

Cause they’ll bring you down, down, down

Oh, please don’t be so naive
Don’t wait ‘till your heart bleeds
Love wasn’t built for speed, listen to me girl
He keeps fuckin’ with your head, tryin to get you into bed
And in the morning you’ll just hate yourself

It’s the same damn things you’re so quick to believe
You do it over and over again
And it’s the same mistakes that I’m watching you make
You do it over and over again

So before they bring you down
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything

Cause they’ll bring you down, down, down

And you give until there’s nothing to give
Until there’s nothing to give
Until there’s nothing to give

Before they bring you down
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for everything
Fall for anything
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything
You’ve gotta stand for something or you’ll fall for anything
Fall for anything

Before they break you down, down, down
Cause girl they’ll bring you down, down, down
Cause they’ll bring you down, down, down
Cause they’ll bring you down, down, down

On Not Posting In Awhile

Geez! It's been awhile since I've posted, eh? One would assume, with the lack of posting that I've been doing, that I'm a busy little beaver (like the Canadian connotation there? I do)! Well, you'd be dead on! I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off for the past little while. Mostly, I've been attending meeting after meeting after meeting, much to my discomfort (and physical pain, in some instances). In case you were wondering, the physical pain mostly came from wearing heels for a twelve hour day...but you could also factor in uncomfortable seating at uncomfortable meetings as well.

Anyways, I could bore you by going into detail about what I've been up to the past week and a bit, but I will spare you. I will give you a brief update, and then continue with today's issues (and yes, there are issues to discuss...it's been a rough week, and it's only Tuesday).

So....let me think back. Last week was the Open Evening. Basically, the school competes with a bunch of other secondary schools in the county/area, to get parents to send their children there. Competition is apparently pretty stiff, so they really try hard to impress. Interested parents of children currently in year 6 come out for the evening, get schmoozed by the Head Teacher, wander the building with preppy student guides, and watch entertaining presentations put on by the staff. Myself, I got tricked into helping run a giant game of scrabble. It was....interesting, to say the least. Just building the damn thing proved to be a challenge and a half. The string we were given to "map it out" was bloody awful, and the tape in which to stick it down was worse. It just would not stay. Rachel and I kept having to slap it down, as hard as we could, and it almost always bounded back. Eventually, we went to the Science department to get more string, and were magically given a much BETTER, and more co-operative, bundle of string. We ripped out the shit we had laying, and re-did the board with our new magically co-operative string. Then we went about setting out the board pieces, and arranging the letter tiles into piles of seven.

After we had the board set up, we had some time to kill. I wandered into the Orwell Office, and found a bunch of women cutting and pasting book photos and blurbs onto coloured paper. A new display was being constructed, and they asked for my help. I glady did so. I am rather glad I did, because it turned out to be quite funny! Ann, the second head of English, proved herself to be a very funny lady! She had us rolling on the floor laughing. Literally. Putting up the display proved to be a continuation of the good time. Before we knew it, however, it was time to get down to business.

Showtime (and I aptly call it that) approached, and I settled into "Game show host" mood. As children and their parents entered the room, I bombarded them with words of encouragement, trying to entice them into playing the game. A few refused, shyly hiding behind their parents, but most were quite eager to play. In fact, I quickly found that the parents were highly competitive, wanting their kids to get the best score etc. It was a bit daunting, to be honest! I felt bad for a few of the kids, whose parents really pushed them to find "better" words, or to exploit the letters they had. A bit weird to see, that's for sure.

No major problems arose. I met a few of my students parents, as they came in with their younger siblings. It was nice to put faces to names. I had a feeling some of them were rather shocked at my appearance though; I'm not sure if it's my age, or my nose ring, or what, but a few seemed a bit surprised to realize I was "the Miss Carson". "The" indeed. Legendary.

Anyways, the night went off alright. We didn't leave the building until around 9 though, which was a tad horrifying, considering I am there at ten to 8 every day. Ugh. Long long day. Rachel and I ended up joining the Geography boys (who are an hilarious and jovial bunch) for a pint in Fenstanton before going to bed. I slept well that night.

Not a whole lot worth writing about happened between then and now. Aside from the weekend, which started off slow (I went to bed early Friday night), and then ended up being probably the best weekend I've had here so far! I just had a wicked fun time, going out, seeing people, having some drinks, and sharing more than a few laughs. J ended up coming back to mine with me, and we had a pretty fun time together. In the morning, we went out for breakfast, and I waited with him for his bus to come. He was quite cute, and awkwardly affectionate (not awkward in a bad way, but awkward as in I could TELL he wanted to be MORE affectionate with me, but he was afraid of scaring me off - he would go to take my hand, then kind of hesitate and pull his hand back etc - it was quite cute). We also made plans to head to Paris together after half term. We're going to get together NEXT Wednesday, at his place after school, to plan it all out for a weekend in November. He said he'd even make me dinner, that night! How adorable is THAT?!

Coming off that weekend, I was really hoping to have a good week. In fact, I kept thinking this week was going to be GREAT, because I have a nice break in the middle (a trip to Birmingham with the Science department on Wednesday). However, it's now only Tuesday, and I already want to shoot myself in the head.

You see, last week the year 9 reports went home. As you should be aware, my year 9 class is a total terror. They constantly push me, and make me question my desire, if not my ABILITY, to teach. In an effort to "shock" them into realizing I mean business, I wasn't exactly nice when I assessed them. In fact, I was tough as nails. I gave a lot of people really crap marks. In my defence, they totally deserved them. Their attitude towards learning (ATL) was total rubbish, and they're kidding themselves if they think otherwise. So I was brutally honest in my reporting, and I think the marks were indeed "shocking" to a number of students.

Yesterday, Leslie came to me at the end of the day, to let me know that three of my year 9 girls had come to see her about the grades I'd given then. I instantly knew exactly who the girls were. When I listed the names to Leslie, she nodded.
"I'm not going to apologize for the grades," I said. "They deserved them."
"I'm not asking you to apologize. I have no doubts they deserved them. I just wanted you to be aware that there is some discontent out there," she said. She smiled at me constantly, so I could tell she was trying not to seem threatening. It was clear she didn't want to scare me, or make me feel that I had been at fault.
We had a rather frank talk about what the problem was. She told me these girls had requested a class change. My heart sunk.
"Here we go," I thought, "My teaching ability is suddenly thrown into question because three stuck up girls are pissed I called them on their own laziness and stupidity".
However, Leslie tried to explain to me that my teaching wasn't being questioned, and that she understood I had a tough "group of characters".
We decided to allow someone to come observe the class in action, this Thursday, to try and figure out strategies. We also are going to work on picking ONE person, one truly disruptive person, to move out of the class. I can think of a few I wouldn't mind giving the ol' heave ho - but that'd be a cheap solution. One I can deal with. I have an idea of who I want switched out, but that too might be TOO easy. We'll leave it up to the moderator.
With that in the process of being resolved, I rested easy Monday night.

Today, I had my year 9s first period. As the students started their slow shuffle into the room, there were murmurs of discontent. This was the first period that I'd had with them, since the reports went home.
"Miss, why did I get a lever 3?" I heard.
Not looking up to acknowledge the speaker, I said, "If you want to discuss grades with me, see me after class."
"Miss, why did I get a level TWO?!" I heard a high pitched, and extremely whiny girl ask.
I turned, looked over her head at the clock, and said, "Come see me after class, to discuss your mark."
She huffed at me, and refused to move.
"No. I don't deserve this mark. My mum is going to go bananas when she sees this..." she started.
"Sit down. This is not the appropriate place to discuss this," I said calmly to her.
She scowled at me, then marked to her seat. The entire way there she was bitching and complain about how she'd been given an "unfair" mark.
I rolled my eyes.
Instantly, comments started being hurled around the room.
"Yah, well I got a 3."
"HE got a 3?!? THATS NOT FAIR!"
"Oh yah, well I got a two as well. I've NEVER got a two before...."
I could feel myself losing them, so I shouted at them to do the Word Challenge on the board, and to stop talking about grades.
"If you want to talk about grades, do so individually after class with me," I said.
I was met with grumbles. The hatred for me was very evident, throughout the entire classroom.
Bubbles of discontent quickly surfaced again, and before I could stop it, I was being bombarded with comments about how "unfair" I was, and how "we haven't done anything to warrant these marks".
The worst, however, was when one of the girls smugly shouted, "Yah, well I'M SWITCHING ENGLISH CLASSES!"
The rest of the class turned to look at her. She smiled, smug at having won the entire class over for the moment.
Eruptions of agreement spilled forth.
Devastated at the mob mentality that was being directed at me, I felt myself wilt a little. I must admit, I started to doubt my abilities to teach very much. With 28 eyes turned to me, watching for my next move, I knew that now was not the time to collapse.
Instead, I threw my shoulders back and calmly said, "No one will be switching classes. You can't run away from your problems that easily. If you got a bad mark, it's the mark you deserved to get. I don't give good or bad marks. You earn them."
This shut them up for a moment, as they pondered the meaning of what I'd said.
A few rumbles started up at the back, but with a cold stare, I quickly quieted those.
I prompted them back to the Word Challenge, and tried to carry on with the lesson.

We headed to the PC lab for the majority of the class, and kids seemed to be working fairly well.
There was still some animosity amongst some of the girls, but I tried to brush it off with a firm but fair touch. I felt the end of the period went relatively well, and I tried very hard not to let their stinging criticism of my teaching at the start of the lesson get to me. However, at the end, I was given a rather sound slap on the face, by one of the quieter girls in my class.

All the other students had left the room in a noisy mass of swirling chaos. This last girl was slowly and deliberately putting her books into her bag. As she walked past me on her way to the door, she half turned and said, "I'm going to get out of this class."
"Excuse me? Why?" I asked, genuinely shocked.
"Because I can't work with the people in this class. We never get anything done," she said coldly.
"Yes we do," I said. "And besides, if anyone moves, it won't be you...."
"We'll see about that," she said, haughtily, as she strolled out the door.

I stared looking after her for a good thirty seconds. Maybe it was a culmination of everyone else's badgering, or maybe it was something else...whatever it was, her comments to me, seemingly out of the blue (I'd given her a decent mark), struck me harder than anyone elses.

I could understand the "bad" ones wanting out. Students like that will never take responsibility for their actions. They will always blame someone else for their shortcomings. The easiest person to blame right now is me, and so they are. I can deal wit that. I can brush that off. But to have one of the "good" ones slam me....well that was something else entirely. It really made me question my own abilities. Can I handle this class? Is it THAT bad?! Some days I think it is, and others I don't. I do take responsibility for some of the things that happen (or fail to happen) in my class...but I refuse to take responsibility for everything. If you get a bad mix of kids, it's really hard to get them to perform the way you want them to. At least, it is when you are as green a teacher as me. I will always admit to my shortcomings, and my "newbness" is a very large one. I often have no idea what I am doing, and find that usually my instincts are right. However, with this class, I feel like it's hit and miss. They don't trust me. They don't respect me. They plain don't like me. I cannot, no matter how hard I try, get them to be the class I KNOW they can be. It's very frustrating.

I can only hope that the monitoring I get on Thursday will help me figure out what to do. I'd hate to think that I'm failing at teaching....but right now, it sometimes feels that way (at least with this ONE class).

That said, it IS only one of my six classes. I don't think I am doing bad with my other classes at all. It is just my 9s that are totally out of control, and I have no idea how to rein them in. But I'm willing and able to learn.

But anyways...I really don't want to bitch and moan all the time in here. That was never my intention.

Tomorrow I am going with the year 9s (the entire year) to Birmingham, to what is called the "Think Tank". It's some sort of science museum, or something, if I understand all the e-mails right. I am mighty excited to be able to visit a new part of England "on the company dime".

More to come on that later though. Counting down the days till the weekend!! (Which should, if all predictions come true, be even better than the last). The staff Curry Club (which is really just an excuse to eat and drink together) has their first meeting of the year on Friday. J's already asked me to come stay at his after the Curry Club, so a slumber party is already in effect. Saturday night one of the Geo boys, Tom, has his birthday party in Fenstanton, which is only about 5 mins outside St. Ives. I know J is going, and I'm 100% certain he will be coming back and crashing at mine. It's only logical. :) It's going to be RIGHT FUN!

Cheers!

On Confusing Myself More Than Anything

So in my "PG" blog I wrote the following today:

I was "this" close to spilling a major can of beans in here tonight. However, I wised up, and realized it's best for me to take the high road, and let people move on with their lives. I've been grasping at straws for awhile now (or at least, it sometimes feels that way), and I've started to think that maybe it's about time I stopped. It won't be easy, if I decide to do it, but I think maybe it's the right thing to do. Then again, I don't know. I'm a bit conflicted about the whole thing. You know how sometimes people say you just "know" about certain things? How some things happen easily for a reason? It all falls into place? Part of me wants to just trust that feeling, and keep doing what I was doing. Another part of me thinks it's a bit futile, and insanely naive, and it's expecting a LOT. Not just from myself, but from other people too. Then again, I know what I'm willing to do...and it doesn't bother me. I can't really know what other people are thinking though...and there lies the rub. Maybe if I wasn't such a pussy, I could be more vocal about this. But again, I've never been one to verbalize when I need help. I'm a stubborn old soul, who refuses to let people see the weaker side of me. I've got a persona to uphold, after all! (Actually, who am I kidding? Everyone knows me as the soft, sweet, big mouthed girl from Tillsonburg...no bad ass persona here). Do you fight the feeling, or do you let yourself be caught up in it? I don't think there's an answer for that question. It's like asking what came first; the chicken or the egg. Or whatever else people say. Bah. THIS IS SO HARD! I know what I want, and I know what it takes to get it, but it takes a lot; A lot of different things, from different avenues of my being. Nothing I can't afford though...now, then, before, whenever. I know I'm talking in circles here, and being ridiculously vague. Obviously I'm doing that for a reason. I don't really want people to (mis)interpret my meaning. Or at least, certain people. Or persons. Or person. Whatever. Decipher what you will from that.

It doesn't really matter what I decide here, or anywhere else. I can say all I want that I'll try to quit this thing, but it won't happen. It's like that Rihanna song....I'd have to check into rehab for it, and it just wouldn't work. I'm irrevocably hooked, no matter how hard I try to disengage myself.

Oh, and case you were starting to get worried. It's not drugs. Unless you count alcohol, in which case, yes, it's drugs. (I'm joking).

-------

In this blog, I can run through the hidden meaning in the posting. I was trying to be evasive, because I wanted to vent, but I didn't want everyone to know what I was talking about. Obviously I could have just vented here, without venting even a little in the PG blog...however, I know a lot of people read the other blog, and I think they'd like to see a more personal post from me; something that wasn't just about teaching. So I posted it.

But here, I can be real. Obviously I'm talking about my feelings for Trevor. My sister messaged me today, and made me feel really shitty about what I'm doing to myself over Trevor. She basically pointed out that I was being completely naieve about the whole situation.
"You have to remember he's four years younger than you. He might not want what you want," she wrote.
I didn't want to believe her a the time, but as I thought more about it, it started ot kind of become true. Obviously when I go back home, my plan at the moment is to fight tooth and nail to get him. To make him mine, to be with him. I want to be with him so badly, it's ridiculous. I think about him on a daily basis. He's the last person I talk to before I go to bed, most nights. I have surprisingly strong feelings for him. I say surprising, because I haven't seen him in over a month now, and I still feel as strongly as I did the last day I spent with him. Talking to him, daily, only makes me feel more sure about my feelings. He just constantly reinforces how amazing he is, every time I talk to him. He's something else...I dunno. I can't stop thinking about how I felt when I first saw him, or when I first kissed him, or when we ... god, sorry, I hate to be an awkward asshole here ... had sex. It was all just so GOOD. There was passion, and tenderness, and everything you'd want. I dunno. Frig. It was all so good. And it all happened so fast...but it felt really natural, and right. More than anything I've experienced before.

Christine told me she thinks he wants to be with me when I return. Sheena tells me he probably won't. I'm telling myself I want it, and if I want it, I seem to think I will get it. I don't know who or what to really believe. I want SO badly for my feelings to be right, for once. I want so badly to give in, and trust my gut on this one. But I also am now afraid I'm wasting my time, my life, my love. I just don't know what to do.

In all honesty, I'm not worried about him being with other girls when I'm gone. I know I will be with other GUYS in this interlude. I'm not going to become a NUN while wait until I return home. Hell, I've already for J waiting in the wings, and he is MORE than ready to sweep me off my feet, for the time being. And I'm more than willing to let him. He's a very sweet guy. As such, I'm sure Trevor will find his "J". His girl to distract him. I just hope he doesn't find his "right girl". What I hope will be me. And maybe that's where I am being naieve. I don't even know how Trevor feels about me. I don't seem to care. I have this insane confidence about the whole situation....and perhaps that's stupid. Maybe he's not the nice guy I think he is. Maybe he is very good at playing me. Who knows. I don't think that's the case, though.

And, like I said in my PG blog, no matter how hard I try to convince myself into quitting him, reducing my conversations with him, it won't happen. I can't do it. I can't not talk to him. I look forward to it, nightly. It's hard enough for me to go one night, and purposely NOT talk to him (which I do, often, to try to show myself I'm not as hopelessly in love with him as I think I am).

But anyways, I'm rambled on long enough. I should either do some work or go to bed.

Cheers.

On the Worst Day EVER

The following was originally written October 1st:

So today was quite possibly the worst day of my entire life. I don't feel like rehashing the details right now, because it will just make me upset, but I will anyways. Long story short, I ended up being very very stern with my lower ability year 11s today, for constantly "taking the mick out of me". In other words, they've been pushing my buttons for five weeks now, and I've had enough. I've been trying SO hard with this group, and getting mediocre results back. I even changed the seating plan of my room, which affects EVERY OTHER class I have, in order to better accommodate these kids. I have a large central table, that I have the 16 students sit around. I then work with them on THEIR level, talking them through tasks, and getting them to do it as a group. If I left them to do the tasks individually, only a few of the slightly higher ability ones would complete it. The others would need constant supervision. This way, I can supervise them all, and get the work done. Well....today, I had a group of girls refuse to join the table. They wanted to work on their own. I said that was fine, as long as they stayed on top of the work, and weren't off task.

Well, I quickly noticed that they were not talking about the poetry I had assigned. Far from it. I called them on their behaviour, only to meet rolled eyes and sighs. I told them they should join the main table again, to stay on task, but they refused. Not wanting to ruin the learning the others were doing, I set back to the task at hand.

Again, their talking caught my attention, and again I chastised them. This time they started to argue back, saying that they were trying to listen to me, but the talking of some boys at my table was preventing them from hearing. They said I was being unfair, picking on them for talking, when people at my table were talking too. I told them I wasn't being unfair, and if they wanted to hear what I was saying, they should join the table.

They then launched into a tirade about how I was "alienating" them from the lesson, by not including them. I calmly stated back that they had CHOSEN to sit separately from the majority of the class, and that I had ENTRUSTED them to stay on task as a result.

"Maybe it's best if you move over here," I said.
"NO!" they shouted back at me. "We're fine here, just make everyone else stop talking, not just us."
The guys at the main table started to argue back at this point, and soon it was a shouting match between the group at the main table, and these girls off to the side. I tried to interject, but to no avail. They either couldn't hear me over their own shouting, or they chose not to. I sat there, dumbfounded for a moment, staring at the TA. She looked helplessly at me.

Then I stood up.
"THAT'S ENOUGH!" I shouted.
"I've had ENOUGH of this! I am NOT going to let this class get out of control ANYMORE! This is absolutely CHAOTIC! There is NO reason for this! I am so sick of you guys constantly talking, arguing, fighting, and NOT DOING THE WORK. I'm TRYING to help you do this! I am TRYING to make sure that you all have a solid grasp over this content! You CANNOT hope to get a passing mark on the coursework, if you constantly talk over me, and shout at each other!"
One of the girls opened her mouth, to say something back at me. Her eyes flashed angrily at me.
"NO! Don't say anything. I don't want to hear you say ANYTHING right now. I'm talking, and I'm sick of you all trying to talk over me. This is MY classroom, not yours."
One of the boys at my table snickered. This caused the three girls to the side to snicker as well.
I stared at them, steely eyed.
"I fail to see what is so funny. This is your future. If you want to sabatoge it, that's pretty damn pathetic," I said, the anger dripping heavily from my voice.

The boys at my table stared at me, their mouths hanging open. They'd never seen me angry before. I think they thought I was a bit of a pushover. Part of the problem, I suppose.

The girls, however, were not impressed. They saw my anger as a call to arms. They started to shout back, saying I was "unfairly" picking on them, and that I was alienating them from learning by allowing others to talk, but not them. Again they tried to say that I forced them away from the main group. I rolled my eyes at them, ready to defend myself, but deciding against it.
"I'm not going to argue with you. I don't have to," I said.

At this point, the TA piped in, saying that I had, in fact, invited them repeatedly to join us, but that they'd refused. She said I couldn't drag them to the table. She was right. I couldn't...though next lesson I will.

Again, I had to strongly reiterate the fact that THEY had chosen to exclude THEMSELVES, and that I couldn't be expected to MAKE them want to learn. I took all the blame they were placing on me, and put it squarely on their shoulders, where it rightfully belonged. My voice remained calm and cold, collected to a T. Inside, I was shaking though. Shaking with anger and pent up resentment, not just at the girls in particular,but at everyone in the class. Everyone who was constantly pushing my buttons, seeing how far they could go.

At this point one of the girls, the most vocal one, stood up.
"I WON'T work in here with YOU," she spat at me.
I stared at her, not saying a word. I don't know how I looked, but I felt utterly and totally bad ass; I hope my face projected my own apathy back at her. She stormed out, saying she was going to her House Office.

The TA looked at me, and I sat, unmoving. Every head in the classroom was turned to me, expectantly. I simply sat there, staring at the remaining two girls, daring them to get up and do the same.
"Do you want me to go after her?" she asked.
"Yes please," I said, calmly.
"You can't use this as an excuse to get out of a lesson..." the TA mumbled under her breath as she walked out of the room.
No one watched her go. Everyone remained fixated on me.
I picked up the poem we were working on, and continued on with it. I've never heard my voice sound so hollow and cold before. It was eerie even to me.
The students were quiet, not saying a word. I asked a question. Repeated it. Finally one of the girls at the main table answered, and some sort of normalcy returned.
When the TA returned, she shrugged at me, and went over to talk to the remaining two girls off to the side. I plowed on with my poem.
I didn't notice until the end of class that one of the girls had started to cry, while talking to the TA. When everyone had cleared the room, I approached her, and asked her what had happened.
"I think they weren't used to you pushing back. I think it shocked them. You put them in their place, and ruined their argument, and the only thing they had left to do was cry," she said.
"I don't think I did anything wrong..." I said, rather sheepishly.
"Oh no, you didn't," she said. "In fact, I don't know HOW you managed to stay so calm and collected. I mean, you were angry, that was obvious, but... it wasn't out of control. It was poised..."
"I don't know what to do to make these kids do the work..." I said.
"Honestly, you're doing more than I've seen anyone else do with them. I think the seating arrangement is ingenious. It works. These kids need someone on them, all the time."
She suggested that I re-arrange the boys in the class, to break up their ability to talk. I agreed.
Tomorrow I have the class again, and I'm going to try out the new arrangement. We'll see if it helps. I'm also going to demand that everyone sit at the main tables with me and the TA. We're going to get through this together, or not at all.

Still, once the TA left the room, I felt everything from the period rush back at me. The raw emotion of the girls, the awkwardness from the rest of the class, my own frustration and anger, everything. I sat in my desk, put my head in my hands, and cried for a good 5 minutes. I am so glad no one walked in. I had my door wide open, and it was entirely possible. If anyone had seen me looking like that, I don't know what I would have done. Likely they would have asked what was wrong, and I would have then broken down into a sobbing, sniffling mess. I don't want anyone in the department to see me cry....I am already afraid that they think I'm "green". Crying would only add to the pile of things that are potentially wrong with me.

I wiped my face dry with my scarf, and spent the rest of my free period trying to compose myself enough for the staff meeting that followed after school. It wasn't easy, but I think I managed it.

Regardless, I am still left feeling like shit. I can't concentrate enough tonight to plan, or do anything productive. Luckily for me, Heroes is on in twenty minutes, and I can watch that, veg out, and then go to bed.

My fingers are crossed that tomorrow brings a better day. If it's another bad one, like the last few........well.....lord help me....

On Apathetic Students

Well, I can officially say that the students have eaten my soul. Presently, I think they are digesting it, and are soon to pass it through their intestinal tract. Yes. I am going to be crapped out by my students, in due course.

That's how I feel, anyways; like absolute crap. I honestly have never, in my rather short teaching career (and this is factoring in all my practicum junk, and volunteer work I've done), experienced MULTIPLE classes of lazy, unimaginative, uninventive, uncaring students. I'm really doubting that this is JUST a coincidence either. I can't possibly have the only four classes of apathetic students. From what I've heard from other teachers, its a British phenomenon. It is appalling. I think I've explained before, briefly, about "coursework" over here. In case I haven't, I will give you a briefing; students are graded (in Years 10 and 11) based solely on coursework that they submit to an examination board, as well as a few written exams (the GCSEs). Teachers can assign the coursework, and mark drafts of it, but ultimately the final grades are not in their hands. I guess they think that students will be marked on more of a national scale if it's done by an "arbitrary" board of people, instead of "biased" teachers. There is, perhaps, SOME validity in this. However, I still remain skeptical. Anyways, Key Stage 4 (KS4) students are WELL aware of the fact that only the coursework and the exams matter. As such, any homework you assign in class is deemed as "useless", since it's not marked for anything that "matters". This is highly annoying, because I don't assign things unless they matter. Everything serves a greater purpose! I only assign work as a way to BUILD skills that they will need for the coursework or exam. When I try to explain this to the students, they shrug their shoulders, and tell me they'd rather take their chances, and not complete the homework. Of all the assignments I've given, only a select few have completed it all. These students are wonderful; I know they UNDERSTAND that it only aids them in the end. I wish them nothing but success, because they're well rounded, intelligent individuals. The majority of their classmates, however, are rude, ignorant wankers. It frustrates me to no end, that no matter HOW hard I try, they simply do not care.

While I take their indifference personally, I also think they're doing a HUGE disservice to THEMSELVES. I could honestly care less about their lack of respect for ME...it's the lack of respect that they are showing themselves and each other that REALLY gets to me. It's as if their greatest ambition in life is to get through doing the bare minimum; as if they aspire to go nowhere. Their lack of ambition is so frustrating. If I have ever spoken badly about children in Ontario, and their lack of commitment to education, I take it all back. Ontario has it right, in so many ways. Our children aren't nearly has apathetic as British children. I don't know if it's a cultural thing, or what. Frankly, I am very very surprised that more British people my age and older aren't complete assholes. The way their children act, you'd think they'd have learnt it from SOMEONE. Is laziness going to be the next big problem over here? With the current credit crunch, and layoffs, I wouldn't be surprised. At a time when people SHOULD be taking their education seriously, in order to avoid the financial pitfalls that seem apparent, it's even more heartbreaking to see the stance these children take to their education.

I've always said I've believed in lifelong learning. I fail to see how these students will ever catch the lifelong learning "bug". They can't even be bothered to learn NOW, let along on their own in the future.

It's literally crushing my desire to teach. I know. How bad is that?! Back home I had such passion for what I did. I LOVED teaching....here, I find that no matter HOW I try to switch up my lessons, they fall across closed minds. Nothing works. At least, not with my KS4 set. They stare at me with scorn in their eyes, and chatter away as if I wasn't even there. No matter how I try to pull them into the lessons, they constantly ignore me, or disrespect me. At the end of ever lesson with them, I feel drained of all my energy. They make me feel about as big as a flea, and just as effective. It's very depressing. I don't think there's been a day this week that I haven't had to fight back tears, after dealing with my 9s, 10s, and 11s. It takes everything in me to suck it up, and try again with the next class. I do it, but it's very very hard.

That said, my year 8s are everything I could have ever asked for. They get excited with my lessons, they produce excellent results, they partake in discussion.....I can only HOPE and PRAY that when they go into Year 9 they don't instantly change into the unmotivated 9s, 10s, and 11s that I have now. That would be enough to make me cry.

It helps that weekends I can unwind, and get drunk. I know that sounds really really bad, but honestly if I didn't have that vice, that break, that release, I would go insane. I'm not even ashamed to admit that every weekend I feel a VERY strong desire to get lost in the bubbly, happy feeling that accompanies booze. Don't get me wrong though. I don't drink to the point of stupidity. I just drink until everything is funny. Until I can forget how miserable my teaching life can be. I hope it gets better, because honestly, it's starting to really break me down. Maybe I need another release. Who the hell knows. Half term is coming up, that may help. A week to just unwind, in Scotland (or so goes the plan). A hug would also help. I think I've gone pretty much a full month, plus some, without any solid human contact. We could all use some affection, now and again! Just makes you feel nice!

What I wouldn't give to pick up my Gaber-baber (my kitty, Gabriel), and bury my nose in the soft fuzziness on the top of his head. Even just THAT would make me feel a million times better. Amazing how the littlest things can bring you comfort...

But anyways...I didn't really intend for this to be a bitch-fest, though that's clearly what it has become. I'm not absolutely miserable here. Please don't misinterpret what I'm saying. There are many moments, even during teaching (though mostly with my year 8s), that I truly consider myself lucky. Walking to the bank this afternoon, I was struck with the most profound sense of happiness, it it was solely because I realised I was a) in bloody England and b) I feel at home. So....things aren't all bad. I finally feel comfortable in England. I'm not as horribly home sick as I initially was (though I do miss a lot of people...some in particular more than I thought that I would....there are some I think about daily, which surprises me a LOT). Time is also flying by, which is nice...and also scary.

I should get back to work though, I've spent far too much time on this tonight.

Cheers.

On The Monday Blahs

I've got what appears to be a cold. I woke up with a sore throat and sniffles Saturday morning. At first I thought the sore throat was from....don't kill me, parents....having a few cigs Friday night, but as the day wore on, I realized it was a tad too persistent to be my body punishing me for a drunken decision. I also started to get a little sniffly. Sunday it only got worse. It felt like I'd been awake all night, when really I went to bed at a decent hour. I was so exhausted, visions of having mono all those moons ago (so many moons, BAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA) came rushing back to me. It was, and is, terribly unpleasant. I woke up this morning feeling totally knackered, and wanted desperately to go back to bed. However, I forced myself to get up, telling myself it would get better as the day wore on.

Luckily for me, it did get better. I only had to blow my nose a few times during the day. It's always rough when you're teaching, and all you want to do is blow your nose every five seconds. Despite not feeling as bad as I thought I could, I still hated the day. I was in a grumpy mood, for no particular reason, and the kids were being royal pains in the asses. Usually they're pretty subdued on Mondays, because they've just got done with the weekend, and they're all partied out, or whatever else it is they do in England.

Not today though, they couldn't stop talking. I had to use my "stern voice" in all four of my classes today. I knew it was going to be a bad day, when I had to lecture my year 10s on not talking while I was talking...I had to raise my voice within the first ten minutes of the day, and that's never a good thing. I instantly felt drained. I am not good at projecting my voice at pitches higher than a moderate talk. This doesn't fly in the classroom, when you're competing with 30 other voices, most of which have way more energy than you do. I told them that it was "far too early" for me to have to raise my voice, which only got a few snickers. Eventually I got them to settle down, but when I distributed the task, no one seemed interested in doing it. They just continued shooting the shit with each other.

Frustrated, I told them that it was a shame they weren't taking the work seriously, since the play (Twelfth Night) going to require some coursework from them later. This caught their attention slightly, so they worked for about 5 minutes, and then started chattering away again. Inside I wanted to scream at them, but outwardly I just composed myself, and hammered away at the lesson. Eventually people started to notice me talking, and they shushed each other.

Regardless, it was a rough start, and I wasn't too keen on continuing the day in the same fashion.

My lower ability 11s weren't much better. It's hard to get work out of them on a good day, and today was definitely not a good day. One of the girls started to cry while working on a handout on similes. I went over, to see what was wrong, but she wouldn't talk to me, and asked to use the toilet. I let her go, because sometimes we just like to be alone...and besides, why would a 15 year old girl want to talk to ME about her problems? When she was gone, one of the boys told me that she was "hungover". I told him I didn't want to know these things.
"It's true though," one of the other girls said.
"Regardless, that's none of my concern, and it's not yours either. Stay on task," I said.

They worked for awhile, and then the boys at the back of the room started on me again about Canada. It's endlessly amusing to them, to grill me about the differences between Canada and England. No matter how much I try to ignore them, and keep them on task, they always succeed in pulling me into the conversation. Lucky for them, I find most of them to be pleasant individuals, so I really only half-try to ignore their inquisitiveness. They asked me if I knew any British swears. I told them that was inappropriate....but added that I actually had learned about an unintentional swear this weekend....the whole "two fingers" thing, that's the equivalent of giving people the middle finger. It's just the peace sign in Canada. I've made that mistake many a time....and I'm sure offended many people in the process. I just really had no idea.

Then they tried to ask me about "American football". Unfortunately, I'm not a fan of either form of football, so they didn't get much out of me in that regard. I told them I enjoyed hockey, but they didn't seem to care about that. They don't know much about "ice" hockey here. Ugh. I hate calling it that. It seems redundant.

Anyways, they tried to ask me a few other stupid things, but I wouldn't answer them. Then they tried to get personal with me, and ask me if I had a boyfriend.
"Okay, honestly! Do you REALLY care? I mean REALLY!? Let's not talk about this!" I said, trying not to laugh.
In high school, I couldn't have cared LESS what my teachers did in their private time. I certainly never asked them if they had a boyfriend/girlfriend. That wasn't my business, and I was more concerned with getting one for MYSELF. Sooo bizarre.

Eventually, that class ended, and I had my wonderfully angelic year 8s. They're just the cutest, sweetest kids in the world. They do whatever I ask them to do, and they put soooo much effort into it! It really boggles my mind, to think about how my current year 9s could have EVER been like that. I honestly wonder if they were...I can't really make the connection. I just hope that my year 8s will go into year 9 and remain as committed and polite as they are now. Somehow I have my doubts about this though. It seems to me that something "clicks" when kids go into year 9....regardless of where in the world they are. Year 9s, the world around, are hormonal, crazy, rebellious monkeys.

I ended with my higher level 11s. They're usually a pretty good bunch, but today they were a bit off the wall. I also got a LOT of attitude from a pair of them (one student who is supposed to be a Sports Captain dealy....he wears a prestigious 'black shirt'). He was so snarly to me, I thought he'd bite. The girl he was sitting beside was also quite vicious today. I assigned some group work, and split them up, and they tried to fight me on it. They questioned where I had moved them, and feigned ignorance when I confronted them on their failure to follow direction. It was a bit amusing, because the girls around them were listening, and when the snarky girl tried to question what I was asking of her they giggled and said "What's NOT to understand about what she's telling you!? Are you not LISTENING?!"
I had wanted to say the same thing to the girl, but felt it would have been slightly unprofessional for me to do so. But honestly, I wasn't really sure what she didn't understand. I had asked her to move, so she could join a different group, and she kept questioning what I expected of her.
After the other girls chastised her, she rolled her eyes and moved. The guy stalled a bit, but finally went and joined a group of guys.

The whole rest of the class, the girl and the guy averted their eyes every time I joined their group to facilitate their discussion. It was so annoying! Ah well, they're still growing young people, who have a bunch of crazy emotions rolling around in their over-stimulated hormonal heads. I don't envy them at all.

I also think one of the boys in that class got dumped, because he was sulky all class. I also found a note, at the end of the day, that said "Dear ____, You're awesome, don't be sad!"
Seems like something you'd say to someone who got dumped. Or perhaps not. Regardless, I'll keep an eye on him next lesson, just to see.

Anyways, the day's over, and I am quite happy. This week should be an easy one for me. I don't have to teach Wednesday afternoon, because I have a workshop to attend in St. Ives for new teachers. Friday is the Sponsored Walk (kind of like Canada's Terry Fox fun. The kids raise funds for charity/the school though, instead of for Cancer research). It's an all day event, so that should be pretty great! I am just happy that it's an easy day before my BIRTHDAY WEEKEND! Plans are still in the making for that, but I certainly hope it's a fun time. I bought a wicked new Ted Baker dress, and I plan to dress to impress. Who knows, maybe I'll get my flirt on. See what I have time for, ha ha ha! Jokes, jokes.

On that note, I should add that I DID get e-mailed from J today. I definitely think he's interested. If he's not, then he's overly friendly. That could be the case too. I am often wrong at these sorts of things. Who the heck knows...guess I will just have to wait and find out.

Well, I should be off now. I am deathly tired (it's 9:30), and should hit the sheets.

Cheers, darlings.

On Finally Getting a Social Life!

Well, it's finally, after a month in this country, happened for me! I finally have the beginnings of a social life! I am overjoyed at the prospect of not spending ever weekend alone now! Hurray! Friday morning I got an e-mail from the only other Canadian on staff at the school, welcoming me and hastily inviting me to join a few staff members for a drink in Cambridge that night. I welcomed the idea, and so arrangements were discussed. I ended up catching a bus into Cambridge at 8pm. I had my iPod with me, so I jammed to some tunes while on the bus, and tried to take in the nighttime scenery.

As we got closer to City Centre, I had my eyes peeled for the pub we were supposed to meet at. It was called the Baron of Beef. Sounds classy, right? Eventually I spotted it coming up on the right. Not wanting to have to try to navigate myself back to the pub, I hastily made my way to the front of the bus, and asked the driver if I could possibly get out at the next corner. He gladly stopped the bus, and let me off. Overjoyed at my luck, I walked over to the door to the bar. Before opening the door, I was hit with a few nervous flutters, but I brushed them aside, and opened the door.

Immediately to the right, filling the whole front section of the pub, was a lively group of staff members. Introductions were made, as I wasn't acquainted with many of them, and then I grabbed a pint and settled in for the evening.
I must admit, it was a very very fun evening! I had a total blast, getting to know some of the other staff members. They're all such friendly people, and we had a really good time just chatting, joking, and laughing. Hopefully I make some lasting friendships out of the bunch! I certainly had fun, and I hope more outings occur in the near future!

A few notable things happened in the evening, the funniest being when an unfortunate British fellow puked EVERYWHERE, both inside and outside the bar. I was outside with two of the lovely female teachers, when suddenly a young man stumbled out of the bar, doubled over, and vomited on the pavement. Disgusted, the three of us instantly stepped back. A little of his sick splattered on my shoe.
"SICK!" we shouted, collectively.
"Time to go home, mate," I said to the back of his head.
People walking by heckled him as well, pointing to his vomit and commenting on how gross it was. It was really quite chunky. Looked like Pad Thai, or something.

He stayed hunkered down, with his head between his legs, for a good five minutes not doing anything. I could hear our group inside laughing at the bloke. It was rather funny, I suppose. It's not often you see someone stumble out of the bar at 12:30 in Canada, retching everywhere. The British are absolute lushes. Finally, the guy righted himself, and tried to take a few steps. He was clearly hammered, and couldn't even stand straight without wobbling around, this way and that. He made to go back in the front door, but found it was locked against him.
"Guess we gotta go around the side. Do you have any mates in there?!" one of my colleagues asked him. He mumbled something, with a stupid drunken grin on his face. The three of us headed back inside, and the drunk guy stumbled after us.

We were greeted at the door by the owner, a woman in her late 40s, at least.
"Did you get sick on my floor!?" she demanded of us.
"No, it was that guy," I said, pointing to the guy who was following us in.
"You couldn't make it to the bathroom?! You had to be sick all over my pub?!" she said, angrily.
Giggling, the three of us hurried back to our seats. I had to sidestep a pile of puke on the floor. Apparently he had stumbled to the door, threw up in front of it, opened the door, threw up in the breezeway, and THEN had stumbled outside. That's when we'd seen him puke on the pavement.
Everyone at the table laughed at us, saying it had been hilarious to watch us all jump back instantly when he'd come out. I drunkenly grumbled about my shoes, though lucky for me not a lot had gotten on me.

The owner made the guy help her clean up his mess though, which was poetic justice. You rarely see that in Canada. Unless, of course, you're Mike Holcolm, and you've puked down the stairs at the Mug. Ha ha ha! Oh that story never fails to crack me up.

I also should mention that this week, during staff meetings, I'd started to kind of notice one of the other staff memebers; a younger guy, who was, I later found out, from New Zealand. I kind of developed a teeny crush on him, just talking to him briefly at the meetings.

I also found out that he was the tutor (newly appointed) of one of my "bad" students, Jimmy. I didn't have to make up an reason to e-mail him about Jimmy, since he has a serious problem NOT making fart noises with his mouth. I shot off a quick e-mail, just asking him to speak to Jimmy about proper vs. improper behaviour in class. He e-mailed me back, saying he'd talk to him for me, and then wished me a good weekend, complete with a smilie face emoticon. Solid. Good sign.

Then, when I got invited out, I secretly hoped he'd be in attendance. I was quite pleased when he WAS out, and I secretly endevoured to have a solid conversation with him. The only problem was, that as the night progressed, I got the impression that another of the young ladies on staff (she's the same age as me, actually) also had a crush on him. You know how you can read people's body language? Well, I noticed them up at the bar, ordering drinks, and she was very clearly attempting to lean into him. She was doing all the usual things, that signal to me that a woman is interested in a man. I wasn't sure how to read his response to her, but I knew this could get messy. She is SUPER nice, and we had chatted a lot earlier in the evening. I definitely think we could become pretty good friends, as we're the same age and seem to have a similar personality. I like her a lot, so I really hoped that perhaps I was misreading her interest in J.

Eventually, I did get to have a few decent conversations with him. I tried my best to show a little bit of interest in him, but not too much. I was flirty, but not over the top. I don't want to come across as THAT girl, to anyone on the staff. Slowly, as the night progressed, people started to trickle out. Eventually it was just the three of us, Laura, J and myself.

I ended up missing the bus back, because I just didn't keep track of the time well enough. I was a bit inebriated, and was going to call a cab back to St. Ives. I was convinced this wasn't a good idea though, and a place to crash for the night was offered to me. I gladly accepted. On the way back I also requested, as per usual, some food. They asked me what I wanted, and I drunkenly shouted "poutine!"
Of course, you can't get that in England, so instead I said I would settle for some chips, and perhaps a burger. We caught a cab, went to a little takeaway place, and I ordered a cheeseburger and fries. It was bloody brilliant. Really hit the spot! I can honestly say it was the best burger I've had yet in England. Maybe it was the booze, or maybe it was something else, but it was freaking great. I scarfed it down super fast, hardly pausing to breath. Food comes first! The three of us headed to Js, were he popped in a movie and we kind of vegged. Laura was sitting next to him on the couch, and was leaning on his arm, with her head on his shoulder. I decided that my initial hunch had been correct. She was very much trying to show that she was interested in him, so I decided to back off. I don't want to burn bridges.

I was pretty hammered, so I started to fall asleep on the couch. At this point, J asked me if I wanted to sleep on the couch or on a blow up mattress. I gladly opted for the blow up.
"Okay, its in my room," he said.
Ooooooo! I thought.

We headed upstairs, leaving Laura passed out on the couch, bless her. I pumped up the mattress with my foot, J got me a sleeping bag, and I settled in for the duration. It was really cold though (this is the honest truth, I was FREEZING), so J told me to bring the sleepingbag onto his bed, and then I could share his blanket. It was totally PG. I really did stay in my sleeping bag, and he just tossed his blanket over me as well. We joked around a bit, had a pillow fight, and then went to sleep. Nothing happened at all, honest. I wouldnt have let it, regardless. When people you work with are involved, you have to be SUPER careful. I don't want to have stories about me started ALREADY! I am just hoping that Laura dosen't get mad, or think something happened between us. Nothing happened, it was legit, 100%.

I don't think she's mad though, as she texted me this afternoon, and seemed fine!

Anyways, when I drink I always find I sleep terribly, so I didn't have the best sleep, but ah well! It woulda been the same regardless of where I was in the world! In the morning, I had to leave super early, as I wanted to make it to the post office in St. Ives before it closed at 11:30. I caught a bus home, and made it to the post office at around 10. I was thinking it was going to be one of the packages from my Mum, but it was the one Meaghan sent me! I was super excited to see what she'd sent, so I didn't waste time opening it. I started walking down the street, ripping the envelope open. Inside was a really adorable card, a very handy book on British slang (I will def. use it against the students, mwha) and a hilarious game called Nun Bowling. It's exactly as it sounds....its a bowling game where you have to knock down little nuns. I laughed so hard, I almost peed my pants. I'm not even joking, I thought it was so cute! People probably thought I was nuts.

Since I was downtown St. Ives, I decided to check out some of the local shops. I went into a shoe store, as I am lacking shoes, and ended up buying a cute pair of mary janes, with a bit of a heel. I figured I could wear them mostly for teaching, but they have the ability to be dressed up. I then went into a clothing store, and bought a dress to wear for next weekend (which just happens to be my BIRTHDAY). A few of the staff members had agreed to come out with me, so I want to make sure I'm dressed to kill for my special day!

It was a GORGEOUSLY sunny day, so I took my time walking home. Once there, I decided to do my laundry, since I could hang it out on the line. It was so warm! I was wearing short shorts and a tank top all day, and was perfectly comfortable. I then decided to relax and watch Hot Rod, have a nap, and mostly just enjoy not having to do anything. Like I mentioned, Laura texted me today, and might come into St. Ives tonight. I'm not sure. I am not super keen on going out, but I will! J also texted me, being very friendly, and possibly a little flirty. Yet another good sign, as it shows he had to ask SOMEONE for my number; I didn't give it to him!

All in all, it was a glorious Friday night, and a wonderful Saturday afternoon.

I am looking forward to next weekend. I hope that it's as fun, if not more fun, than last night.

Cheers!!