Goodbye

I've decided to bring Trout in the Milk to an end. Amongst the myriad reasons is the fact that I don't want to hurt anyone any more than I already have, and having an internet presence of sorts can only ever be a damaging thing in the circumstances. It's bad enough feeling under scrutiny when I'm out, even if it's just paranoia, so there's little point in me writing if I don't feel I can say what I want.

Possibly I'll get drawn back into the blogosphere at some point and set up a new blog, but for now I could do with a break from this bizarre conceptualised version of myself anyway. I'm trying to throw myself into different projects instead, including, strangely, signing up for the Sheffield 10k "Great Yorkshire Run". Training starts tomorrow. I'm also going to do an evening writing course as of September, with a view to polishing my writing portfolio for Hallam's Writing MA. Rob and Sam have also assured me that I'm still in the band, so that's an excellent focus-point too.

Fuck knows what I'll do over the Summer break though. I have no plans at all (Ed - please get me to a festival!) and I'll probably just go mental . . . I'd better start making a list.

Final words from Brian: "Do the washing up."

Fuck - that man's a genius.

(If you can't live without some random Oblique Strategies, go here.)

Oblique Strategy of the day

"Make a sudden, destructive unpredictable action; incorporate"

Cripes

Excitement

I've just bought the new Hot Club de Paris album (yes, I am at school, but I'm at least pretending to do work, so it's ok (i.e. it's polite to pretend))!

Oblique Strategy of the day

"Mute and continue"


Hands up who can imagine me mute? No one? You do surprise me.

Amazing footage of mushroom clouds, amongst other things

Neighbours and Dolphins

In addition to not watching Neighbours, I also have some white bits on my nails! This is definitely working towards my New Year's Resolutions goals (it's only taken me almost half a year).

This caught my eye: they can't be right, surely?

OMG Random Brian Eno is strangely on the ball

"Bridges - build - burn"

Big changes are afoot.

I've lost my Neighbours addiction for a start. Weird.

Gutted

A number of problems:

1) No car. Something is wrong with it, and I don't know what except that it involved scraping the offside rear wheel along the ground and was thus undrivable. And it cost me £40 to get it towed to the garage round the corner (guy from my recovery service on the phone: "It'll cost you £40, but when I say £40, that's the cash price. I don't believe in paying tax, so I don't expect you to pay me tax." lol!).

2) "Theoretical band" meeting tomorrow. In which I need to do a better job of pretending I have any sort of skill at guitar. I'm quite good at convincing myself that I'm ok when I don't have to prove it, but then various boys take a guitar out of my hands and I see that I'm shit. Which is shit.

3) It's very hard to focus on creative output when you have so much uncreative output to get through in your spare time. I really need to get organised.

4) Yet another flying visit North scheduled due to me being disorganised (see point 3) which means that yet again I have no free weekend.

5) No car = no food.

6) Everything costs loads of money.

7) This half term - the last of this year - is really fucking long. I'm longing for Summer holidays to a scary wishing-my-life-away extent . . .

Let the procrastination continue . . .

Me with wavy hair. Don't ask me what that pose is meant to be.

Last night . . .

. . . I dreamt that I was at school (it had elements of my school anyway), and Sylvia Plath was a teacher there. BUT, she was killing the children en masse by poisoning them. I figured out that she was responsible, but others weren't convinced. I really wanted to kill her. I think Alex Turner was there too, but I can't really remember (I don't think he's fit or anything, though I do quite like that Last Shadow Puppets song).

Anyway, I'm blatantly really looking forward to going back to school on Monday. But any other dream interpretation would be welcomed. In all fairness, Sylvia Plath would have probably made a shit secondary school English teacher.

Will blog about the millions of bands I seem to have seen live in the last week shortly.

Marking awaits.

Hot Club de Paris, Hey! Housebrick Video

While I'm waiting for my dinner, I thought I'd post this. Because it's good.

Review: the new Cadbury Twist

So here's the idea: a creme egg, but not in an egg shape. I bought one and ate it because I am a huge creme egg fan. Verdict: no where near as good as a creme egg. The texture of the chocolate is different, and the satisfaction of eating it is all wrong too.

The other good thing about creme eggs is that they're only available for a limited period each year, which is extremely good for my waistband.

Bucking the trend. In a very small way.

It may be shocking to hear this, but my hair has a strong "natural wave", which I've decided to do something with in order to save my hair from the terrible effects of straightening, and to save time too. For school my hair is invariably tied back simply because I don't have the effort or imaginative at 7.30am to do anything with it.

Anyway, today I walked through Eldon Square with my hair bordering on curly and noticed just how hideous the hordes of straight-haired girls has become. I felt stupidly liberated with my un-straight hair.

I hate talking about hair, so I'll stop now, but not before stating that I'm now on a quest to go wavy-haired to school and try to put forward the plight of healthy hair and hopefully stop a generation of females going bald.

That's right - feminism alive and kicking. Who, after all, has the time and inclination to do this?

Oblique Strategy of the day

"Simply a matter of work."

This random strategy is extremely prescient.

After school yesterday I went to an Open Evening at Sheffield Hallam Union in order to find out more about their MA Writing course. To be honest, I didn't learn very much, because the admissions tutor doesn't actually teach anything and didn't know what the writers/teachers actually do, but still, it's definitely something I want to do.

Basically, I have to perfect my writing submission to gain entry to the course, and the admissions tutor advised me to join a writing group (but didn't have any recommendations, and to be honest, the quality of such groups is too variable for me to risk going along) or go on an Arvon course. I might sign up to one of Sheffield University's "Lifelong Learning" writing courses instead.

It's interesting that perceptions of writing are based on sparks of inspiration, bursts of creativity and excitement, when in actuality most creative processes really demand a lot of hard work.

Anyway, if you're interested in any of my non-creative writing, I've been posting music-related blogs up on Shovelled Up Like Muck. I've got my own column too, called "I Wish My Personal Life Was as Organised as This", where I basically list things and write about them. I'm currently working on "Top 10 Over-Exposed Guitar Bands", which is a paean against the Radio 1 playlists being dominated by nondescript indie guitar wank. I need a tenth band though . . .

I feel semi-famous.

I emailed Phil Gladwin, the screenwriter who runs the Screenwriting Goldmine site, about some creative difficulties I was having, and he's posted our conversation up on his site here (with my permission, of course). He's given it the slightly melodramatic title, "Ideas that can KILL stories", but I suppose these screenwriting luvvies are wont to do such things.

My regular readers (I'm pretending that people other than my mam read this on a regular basis, rather than being referred by searches for "pope tea", amongst other things . . .) might recall that I went to Berlin over Easter. I wrote up a sort of travel diary while we were there, and this is from the actual journey into Berlin from the airport (which was massively complicated because parts of the S-bahn and U-bahn track were closed):

"At each wait for every bus or train I was worrying about invalidating our hostel reservation through lateness. At one point we were sat on a motionless train for about 10 minutes. Thankfully, I wasn't the only confused one: a boy of about 18 with bleached-blond hair and a pack on his back with a "National Youth Orchestra" sticker on it (I still say it was a bassoon) got out of his seat to scrutinise the map above the doors and said to us in a overly-concerned, Wirralite accent, "Is this train even going anywhere?" He was trying to get to Warschauer Strasse, which we'd never heard of. Once he calmed down and the train actually got going, we heard him babbling away on his mobile in German and were instantly jealous."

I bring this up now, because we were watching TV while eating dinner. The judges were deliberating Young Musician of the Year 2008, and the winner of 2006 came onto the stage to perform. I stared at the screen and said, "Ian, do you think that's —"
"Yes," came the reply.

It turns out that our Scouser in Berlin is in fact called Mark Simpson, and a clarinettist (damn it) who won when he was 17.

Bizarre who you bump into.

National Awareness Ridiculousness

Further to yesterday's post, have a look at the amazing days and weeks you can celebrate/be "aware" on this site here. There's trillions on here, just for the month of May.

My personal favourites:

11 - 17th May is both British Sandwich Week (WTF?) and National Breastfeeding Awareness Week, which will be great for all those people who feel uncomfortable around toddlers sucking nipples in their immediate vicinity.

21 - 25 May - Noise Action Week: "Noise Action Week raises awareness about noise" - erm?

23rd May - Friendship Day - bleeurgh

Apparently, as well as Compost Awareness, this week we should also be aware of deafness, honey and the Red Cross. Right.

Mark Wallinger's Proposal for Kent's "Angel of the North"

33 times the size of a normal horse. Mint.

Compost and nerdiness

You will all, of course, be extremely excited to hear that it is Compost Awareness Week. I dig composting, but that's because I've been a bit of an eco nerd since I was made "light monitor" at primary school (cue switching everything off at home and driving my brother mad for the next few years).

I'm also a gardening nerd. An unrepentant one at that. I can name more types of tree that most country-dwellers (me being a city child), and I'm getting pretty excited that my hostas seem to be thriving at the moment despite the rampant slugs and snails that patrol Sheffield gardens. The sunflower seedlings are starting to emerge for my planned sunflower hedge at the allotment, and our random anenomes in pots look ace.

I'll take pictures soon to prove it.

The only problem I have with Compost Awareness Week is its stupid name. It must be the done government thing to name everything "awareness week", regardless of what it is. For example, "Islam Awareness Week" was roundly mocked by a host of people - could non-Muslims be any more aware of Islam in the current climate?

The word "awareness" seems perjorative in this sense, as if "compost" were a sexually transmitted disease you needed to protect yourself from, rather than a good way to take the strain off your wheelie-bin. We should be "aware" of gonorrhea, but "educated" about recycling facilities for fuck's sake.

What's wrong with just a "National [insert topic here] week" or "[Insert cause] Education Day"? Or failing that, get rid of all these bastard days and weeks that mean nothing.

Which reminds me: I need to send off all the letters my Year 10s wrote asking the culture minister (Andy Burnham - I hadn't heard of him either) to adapt St George's day to National (or International - I'm not fussy) Shakespeare Day. Pork on a spit and ale up and down the country - sounds good to me.

WTF?

Boris! ROTFL!! LOLZZZ!!!! [etc etc]

Some things make me really relieved to be British:

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/apr/29/italy1

I do have happy times, honest

Today I was part of the boring coursework moderation process for the entire day. Some of my pretend marks were fine, but others were hilariously far out, so yet again I'm back to feeling insecure.

I also faced some weird doubts from two people about my idea to assess GCSE Macbeth coursework using oral interviews rather than getting the kids to write yet another damned essay - they're bored and I'm bored, so what have we got to lose? "Ooh, it'd be very difficult and might actually take up more time than marking essays." / "The moderation process is really strict and it's quite hard for them not to lose marks"/"you'd have to do them one by one and use your lunch hours because you can't have a class of 32 doing something else."/etc etc

(I realise this is all extremely boring, but I need to vent.)

To top a dull day off, I went to the work room after school, looking for the cover work I'd set, and one of the older members of staff told me (in an extremely nice way) that I shouldn't have told any of my students about inflation and the teachers' strike because it could be construed as being "political". Firstly, by telling them about pay-related issues I'm actually teaching a bit of "Citizenship"; secondly, they knew I was going on strike anyway, so therefore they also already knew about my politics!

Whatever I do, I'm going to get criticised for it . . . I'm beginning to realise this now. But seeing as I actually have a personality, I'm going to have to develop a tough skin and battle on regardless.

I was told on Saturday by a girl I'd not seen for years that I was too cool to be a teacher. Too individualistic, that's for sure.

A Political Militant

I am on strike tomorrow. Not by accident, but because I actually voted for strike action. Doesn't it make every bit of sense for my salary to remain in line with inflation? It's not like my rent and food costs are not going to rise by 4.4% (or thereabouts).

Evidently, however, my strange upbringing (hanging out with other kids at local Labour Party meetings while the grown-ups talked about whatever), has rendered me incapable of seeing how disgusting taking strike action is.

I was hanging around in reprographics, waiting to get a ream of paper for the staffroom photocopier, but there was no one around except a fellow NQT (Science, PHD) who I've always found to be extremely supercilious and strangely pious. To make small-talk I asked if she was striking. No, she said, but was I? I said I was, and she took that opportunity(?) to espouse about how the very reason she didn't join the NUT was because of "things like this" and their "militant" reputation.

Militant reputation! She must have missed every news report, because everything I've heard and read says this is the first strike in over 20 years. I found it hilarious at this point cuttingly remark, "Well, I am from a militant background," to which she didn't respond, except to tell me that she saw herself as extremely privileged to be earning the money she was AND she'd taken a pay cut to teach.

She made some attempt to recover the conversation by then telling me, "But if you do get us a pay raise I won't say no!" I grimaced. I should have said, "But we're all so privileged. Won't you waiver your pay for the government to assign to those who need it more?"

What a twat. I will take every opportunity to give her ambiguous but possibly dirty looks in the future.

Berlin Pictures

I've just organised all my photos on Flickr and I can't be bothered to upload them again, so if you're bothered, you can click here then click the square Berlin picture on the right hand side to get them in the proper order.

I'm back from Berlin, but more about that later.

More importantly, we just saw the Sheffield University Challenge captain in Tesco! We were very excited because he was extremely clever. They only just got beaten in the final by some Oxbridge team. I would've said something, but I was grinning in far too inane a manner.

Now I'm on holiday and all the time is mine, I think I've got creativity stage-fright.

Brian says, "Use an unacceptable color," which, if I'm honest, isn't remotely helpful.

Prioritorise, Jess. Prioritorise.

PS. "ise" endings vs "ize". I always thought "ize" was American and therefore used "ise", but according to woman in my department, it's the other way round. I need to investigate and change my whole spelling system . . .

Edit: I wasn't wrong but neither were they. Wikipedia and this site say that "ize" is the only form used in America, while in the UK two-thirds of people use "ise", including newspapers and magazines. However, the OED and thus many academic journals insist on "ize". I'm more right than they were. Ha!

Get your Ryan Adams fill while you still can . . .

Ryan Adams has finished writing the songs for his new album and the new Cardinals album, and so the blog is apparently over.

I'm genuinely going to miss it. It's totally bizarre to read through the creative left-overs of someone famous as they're in the process of creating . . . and fascinating.

This is his last video, and apparently a song off his forthcoming album. Probably the best song he's shown for an age:


CROSSED-OUT NAME from Ryan Adams on Vimeo.

Perhaps the site will stay up even if he isn't posting any more. Probably not though.

Karaoke at The Old Crown

What an excellent way to spend the night of the last day of term.

I met up with my buddies from PGCE for a couple of ales (why can't I write "ales" without thinking about Richard E. Grant? "Ale" sounds so much better than "bitter" . . .) which was excellent. There wasn't too much depressing teaching chat, and I surprisingly wasn't as tired as I'd expected myself to be.

The Old Crown is immense. It's a favourite haunt of Pete and Tom because of the excellent atmosphere and the fact that the locals were characters worthy of stories: Stan (I think) who talked his way through his songs; a fifty-something woman clad in animal print who sang as if she had a life of lost love; an older woman with a soul-diva voice - truly great.

Pete was without doubt the best performer of the night, really getting into Dancing in the Dark and Living On A Prayer, and my other companions did sterling Oasis covers.

But the rotters put my name down while I was at the bar and suddenly "Jess" was announced. Being a good sport, I got up and did Tainted Love, with backing vocals by Tom and Paul. They were very nice about my performance afterwards, but it was a pretty surreal experience. I felt like I had no control over my voice, and I was hitting bum notes all over the place. Plus, it was pretty low for me, so I sounded like a boy.

For my public singing debut though, it wasn't too bad. Next time though, I'll be sure to find something in my range.

Sometimes . . .

. . . I come home and I have to behave in a really ludicrous way to remind myself of who I am.

Stupid dancing in the kitchen (MC Hammer via Turk from Scrubs sort of style), playing stupid guitar riffs and ridiculous drum beats, dressing in a strange outfit, putting my hair in bunches.

It's probably because the holidays are almost within reach, and because I've had so much marking and have been so tired lately, but I really feel like school robs me of my personality. I'm scared I'm going to start acting, at school, in more and more obtuse and idiosyncratic ways and get myself a reputation for being a complete fucking weirdo.

I like kids, but I still don't think anyone under 18 knows shit . . . so does it matter?

I'm too tired to care.

My Quilt

I've achieved two things today: 1) I've learned how to use the timer on my digital camera; 2) I've finally got some pictures of my quilt, which I finished edging last weekend. So I've been having a bit of a camera day and have been enjoying setting up my tripod and mucking around. Here's the roll:The quilt's in the background, but notice I'm getting horrible laughter lines . . . or maybe it's just creases from sleeping . . . Perhaps I went very foetal in my pictures to compensate for this aging. Actually, it's because I wanted as much quilt as possible in the picture whilst I was still in the frame.


I'm really pleased with the edges, and particularly my mitred corners, which I hand-stitched because I couldn't be arsed with the sewing machine. I had to pin the edging in place onto the quilt to check the fabric strips I'd made were exactly the right length. But my sewing machine isn't really big enough to cope with the weight of a whole quilt tugging on it, so it was easier to just sit on the floor and do it by hand.



Annoyingly, you have to reset the timer each picture, which isn't the most intuitive of processes and I therefore kept forgetting. There probably is a better way, but I haven't found it yet.


It's not exactly the most intricate of designs, but it's so big that it took me an age to make . . . and I like it.

Where is my Easter holiday?

Sometimes I think, by doing what I do, that I'm slowly killing off sections of my personality. Other times, I get to say things in school that make me feel me.

E.g. A Year 10 or 11 kid was trying to barge past some of my Year 7 form today and shouted at them, behind me, "Let me through, I'm more superior to you." I turned around, vaguely amused, and he looked really smug. So I said, "It's just 'superior' - it doesn't need 'more'." And continued walking.

I got to "own" other kids on several occasions today. But there are too many times when you feel your personality disintegrating as you wait for time to pass.

On a nice note though, I got to hold a wee baby today. And don't tell me I'm getting all broody just for mentioning it, because my male colleague in the English department was much more excited than me at getting to cuddle a very small child.

Babies' perfect, tiny hands are the best things in the world.

Oblique Strategy of the day

The most important thing is the thing most easily forgotten

Plus

Ryan Adams as an internet presence is back! You can find him at a new blog called "TOTALLY BORED the musical", which he seems to update constantly. There's already a new little video-ditty by him up there, plus a DJ Reggie tune you can listen to, amongst the usual poems and general ephemera - it's great!



Writing the Hits with Stupid from Ryan Adams on Vimeo.

Awful, awful weeks

How funny that the last thing I wrote on the blog was, "Trust in the you of now." This is amusing because I've been hugely paranoid, insecure, tired and generally feeling shit all this week and last.

I've had TWO complaints from parents in TWO weeks. The parents involved were fucking crazy weirdos and awful mothers, plus their complaints were ridiculous (setting up an extra SATS booster session and rearranging it for the girl in question to attend; telling another girl to be quiet as she entered the classroom), and yet I felt so victimised and on the defensive that I really believed I was terrible with kids and everything was pointless. On Monday, having to explain myself AGAIN to the deputy head after another stupid phone-call from the mother, I cried. I was so ill and tired and felt like packing the whole job in.

Having five days off now puts everything into perspective (plus my last lesson today was observed by the acting head and went extremely well), and makes me feel a lot calmer about actually having a personality and sometimes putting it to use in the classroom. For a start, despite the complaints from the wet-blanket kids, using sarcasm or just being quick actually helps bad children pay attention and focus. Plus, if the kids are scared that you'll "own" them (i.e. verbally and quick-wittedly beat them to a pulp in front of their friends in an amusing manner) they tend to make fewer ridiculous marks and ask fewer imbecilic questions.

Anyway, though I'm feeling better mentally, I'm still physically shitty, so I'm spending the night in to recuperate.

On the plus side of being down about school, I fucked off school-work on Tuesday night to write an article about the tyranny of the so-called BRIT School which has unleashed the "talents" of Adele, Amy Winehouse, Leona Lewis, Kate Nash etc upon us. You can read it at a new music blog called Shovelled Up Like Muck, which I'll hopefully be regularly contributing too. I've put it in my Links list too, so check it out. My Foals CD is on its way to me, so I expect I'll write up a review of that imminently.

Oblique Strategy of the day

Trust in the you of now.

This, that and everything else

Some days you just think you've totally lost all capability. You're sitting there, perching, feeling shit with a sore throat and sounding very hoarse, and the excellent task you've put effort into preparing just falls flat. You can't shout anyway, and they know it (sense it, perhaps), so you're there, sighing, completely impotent.

Little bastards. One of them even put up a hand to high-five me (something to do with Marilyn Manson - don't ask), the cretin. I gave him a very stern look. I think they genuinely believe I should be flattered by their approval or whatever - they're only just 15!

Anyway, I went to the school gym afterwards which definitely helped to de-stress. My physical fitness is absolutely crap, however. I managed to row over 1000 metres, however, and ran (sometimes walked quickly) over 1500 metres. In total, I burned about 200 calories or so. That might be my future serving of apple crumble and custard this week.

So - Friday was the first "Party Lounge" (that is, the monthly night to be hosted by The Yell). The support band, AGASKODO TELIVEREK, were excellent, though their set went on a bit. They consisted of an English (I think) drummer, who drummed to a click-track throughout, two very eccentric-looking Hungarian guitarists (dressed in 118-esque short and T-shirt outfits) and a Japanese singer, who half screamed and half posed throughout the set. It was extremely entertaining.

The Yell are going to have to work on an after-party though. The night at the Pomona was fairly empty and after having an ultra-shit attempt at pool, we went home after a pretty short period of time. Pool's one of those things that really matters when you're drunk and rubbish at it, but seems ludicrous the next day.

Anyway, actually socialising has made me feel enormously trapped by the restricting mass of marking I have to do, and - full circle - makes me extremely resentful of ungrateful kids.

I'm terrified, at the moment, of that feeling that will inevitably surface, after which I'll hate every single moment of my job. I've been suppressing it all through the winter with almost total success. Ironically, I can feel it bubbling away more now that it's getting lighter and warmer - this is the time I should be using for myself, not for some children's half-arsed attempts at homework.

Ding Dong The Witch is at the Beginning of the End?

So I woke up getting excited about Maggie Thatcher being in hospital, but it's just for fainting, and she's probably getting discharged later today anyway.

It's made me think about what the public reaction will be when she does bow out. Loads of people I know say they'll be involved in the country-wide street party (I think I'm a member of the "Street Party when Thatcher Dies" Facebook group), but will anything like that actually happen? I doubt it. When it comes down to it, people like resenting her, but I think on the whole we're too restrained and nice a bunch of people to actually celebrate someone's death.

I was imagining doing a mammoth bake and giving away free cupcakes to celebrate, and how I'd get horrible looks and comments from various people saying what I was doing was in very poor taste and inappropriate.

More likely, as Ian says, there'll be this mammoth rewriting of history, and various political figures creeping out of the woodwork to tell us she was the greatest prime minister we've ever had. Rephrasing "crippling the North" as "pioneering economic reform". Whatever.

Probably that will inspire me to make more cakes with an image of her face with a big X through it.

Ed sent me a link to this though, which is more than cool

Tired. Bored. Stressed.

And all Eno can say is, "Lowest Common Denominator".

I'm going to watch ER and go to bed.

Whoa!

Prince Harry has been "secretly" serving in Afghanistan since December! Who'd have thought? There's some good pictures of him in his less-than-basic living accommodation, which I can only think is a pretty good experience for someone of his ancestry.

What's hilarious, though, are the Guardian's captions for the pictures. They're along the lines of, "Harry holds his .50 calibre heavy machine gun while sitting on his camp bed".

Jimmy Kimmel is an American comedian with his own show: Jimmy Kimmel Live! He's also in a long-term relationship with American comedian Sarah Silverman.

Jimmy Kimmel also has a habit on his show of "bumping" Matt Damon every week i.e. he says, "We've run out of time for Matt Damon." On one occasion, Kimmel went slightly too far, actually had Matt Damon walk onto the dais, they shook hands blah blah blah, but then Kimmel said his usual, "We've run out of time . . " Matt Damon went off it!

So, Sarah Silverman, being a good sport, did this to her unsuspecting partner, with hilarious results. And in retaliation, Jimmy Kimmel just aired this on his show on Oscar night. Very amusing. Where will it end?

Happy viewing.

Sarkozy in Sweary Outburst Shock

Funny remix here.

Too much stuff

I'm in full-on declutter mode at the moment.

A work colleague revealed that he'd sold loads of his books from university on Amazon marketplace and ended up £300 richer. So I was been inspired, during my visit to Newcastle, to look at my bookcases and list all the plays, anthologies, classic novels etc that I'd probably never pick up again. Of the fifteen that I decided I could happily part with (some of which are monster-sized anthologies that will cost well over £2.75 to post), I've already sold three, so I'm hopeful I can get rid of a lot more crap from my bookshelves.

Some things, obviously, aren't worth listing. Some Shakespeare editions only get listed for 1p, and other popular contemporary novels ("The Unbearable Lightness of Being" - I'd keep stuff like that, but I didn't really rate it, if I'm honest) are better off in the local charity shop.

Speaking of which, there's a book recycling bank at Tesco that was full on Sunday. So, the intelligent declutterers had just piled their books on the top. While I was investigating to see if any more would fit in, Ian noticed a Hemingway novel he hadn't heard of or read, so he took it. Is this stealing or not? We regularly buy books from charity shops, as well as donating to them, but is it morally wrong to take a book exposed to the elements? Hmmm.

I'd have taken it too, obviously. Just another form of recycling.

Not that I care, but . . .

Edith Bowman is pregnant. I care so little, in fact, that I've only just discovered this despite it being announced 0n 19th Dec. What does leave me perturbed is the idea of an annoying DJ with shit music taste producing a child with a God-awful untalented idiot from whinge-band and No. 1 Interpol-rip-off-merchants The Editors. Ugh.

What is going to become of a child with such a genetic disadvantage?

Oh yeah!

The janitor in Scrubs doesn't actually have a name. How bizarre that I didn't realise.

World Events

We're living in strange times.

Kosovo declares independence. I would like to take this opportunity to say that I recognise Kosovo as an independent state and that the Russian and Chinese governments can go sulk in the corner. Not abiding by international law my arse!

Castro resigns. What's going to happen next? Do they have a whole array of mini-Communists ready to take over? Or is Cuba going to make friends (and trade deals) with Hillary/Barrack/John? Let's face it though: Castro is one of those people who is so associated with the 60s iconism (not a word, but I can't think what I mean), that it's almost nostalgic to realise he's still alive. Like Dylan, he should already be dead, in a way.

Musharraf admits defeat. An end to power-hungry dictatorships in Pakistan? I suppose a coalition government makes it difficult to be as corrupt, but it seems unlikely that this is the end of the trouble.

And in local news:

Mohamed Al Fayed calls Prince Phillip a "racist" and a "Nazi". Same old.

How to make a imperfect quilt . . .

Ian was saying that long-term projects are good to have. This was in relation to my "quilt"-making, which I started on about Winter 2006 . . . I think, and which I'm hoping to complete this week. (I say "quilt", by the way, because the smallest pieces are actually 17 cm x 17 cm, so it's easily machinable, and not creating some intricate flowery pattern or anything of that kind.)

I understand what he means - it's nice to have a work in progress; something you can keep coming back to, rather than something which is two-days' work and then complete. Maybe the satisfaction over a long-term project is greater too.

But to me, creative pursuits can quickly turn into imagination-crippling, torturous tasks that I find boring to get on with. I'm lazy, I suppose. I like ideas, but once I start doing something and they don't live up to my mental image, I quickly begin something else and leave whatever it was incomplete, preferring to follow flitting flights of fancy rather than spend time problem-solving.

The frustrations of perfectionism or just laziness? Probably both. Anyway, I'm definitely not being a perfectionist over this quilt. It's full of flaws on the reverse side (as I'm sewing all the diagonals across the top), but I don't care. As some musician said about something or other, "You can't pay for mistakes like those."

If only I believed that and wasn't actually extremely irritated by all the mistakes . . .

Pictures soon.

Some days you wake up feeling inspired; everything captures your imagination. (No doubt this is in no small part related to the fact that my half term has commenced and I have room to think about creative things.) Unfortunately I'm too hungover to do much about anything.

I've just read about Art Sheffield in the Guide which I ridiculously have heard nothing about. There's also an amazing idea in the Guide: Sarah Kane's play Blasted being performed for audiences of only 12 at a time in a hotel room. Excellent concept. Looks like there might be some stuff worthwhile seeing in Newcastle too, art-wise. (Usually I end up at the Baltic in between exhibitions . . . )

More vitamin C required . . . despite the fact that (look away, I'm going to be crude) I drank so much cranberry juice last night that I swear my wee smelt of it this morning. Five-a-day overload.

Oblique Strategy of the day

State the problem in words as clearly as possible

Oblique Strategy of the day

"Is the information correct?"

Hmm . . . apparently not.

I've discovered through Facebook that my sister has split up with her boyfriend. Bizarre. And quite depressing. In fact, I think I've found out about a few people's relationship endings and get-togethers through Facebook . . .

Speaking of Genius . . .

. . . I solved Derren Brown's horse racing "System" about 5 minutes into the programme.

It was all one big probability tree.

Easy.

P.S.

This actually reminds me of one of those crap "Genius" programmes on Channel 5 that me, Ed and Linda laughed our way through. One particular "genius" became an amazing painter (despite having had no previous artistic leanings) having strained so hard on the toilet that he gave himself an embolism, after which he was unable to cease painting with oils! Pure TV gold. The "tragedy" of his story was that there was no room in his house for the number of canvases he was producing. Gutted.

Newsnight FUCKING HILARIOUS!

OMG. As I type, the main feature on Newsnight is the side-effects to a particular brand of drugs for Parkinsons. Apparently, several people (seven, in fact) became addicted to gambling, but one of these patients became a compulsive poet, unable to cease writing the shitest poems day and night! Oh my God. A crap-poetry-writing addiction. You couldn't make it up.

Jeremy Beadle RIP

Is it just me, or does there really seem to have been a disconcertingly high number of deaths recently?

Jess is a "Good Girl"

Yes, so I have been declared by the deputy head (JD, as he will now be known) at my school. I'm so proud, and didn't feel in the least bit patronised or undermined as a young woman. (I'm not being thoroughly sarcastic there, but obviously there is more than a small trace.)

I earned the accolade by compiling a "dossier" of YouTube videos created by kids at my school, which I stumbled upon after suspecting some bullying videos were on there. Most of the videos (shot on mobile phones, which are BANNED at school - this, I suspect, is the reason JD has taken it so seriously. He sees children flouting the rules as making a personal attack on him.) were just extremely stupid: kids being silly on the bus; kids egging each other on to drink muddy water from a puddle; etc etc. But two were disturbingly vindictive and aimed at one particular, ginger kid in my Year 9 class.

Stupid kids.

Hilariously, I found myself in the predicament of having to explain why I'd set my Year 10 the homework task of watching a video on YouTube and analysing the use of Gothic features. No, it wasn't the fact that they were on YouTube, it was the term "Gothic". Not only did the word remind JD of those horrible kids called "Goths", but he was worried about the repercussions of studying anything Gothic in a Catholic school. I had to then explain why "Frankenstein" has extremely Christian themes, that the kids are very aware of these, and that they need to explore the social and historical context of the novel in order to achieve a good mark for their coursework. JD seemed satisfied by this, saying that he had no idea what it was about.

It was only when I walked back into the English workroom that a colleague pointed out that this conversation had taken place around the corner from my gory display: the background is black, there's a border of red paper made to resemble dripping blood, and HORROR written in Chiller font.

It's funny having to justify this kind of stuff. The fact that kids love it and therefore engage with it doesn't seem to be enough. But the idea that classic texts and even Shakespeare texts need explanation is ludicrous.

As an introduction to Macbeth, my Year 8 class were talking about superstitions. One girl mentioned that she and some friends had tried the "bloody Mary" thing and done an Ouija board. After talking about it in depth (haha), I advised the class to never mention any of their dealings with evil spirits to anyone in the senior team . . .

Another member of my department remarked that if her daughter had to read The DaVinci Code, she's definitely complain. Not because she's Catholic and doesn't agree with its content, she added, but because it's so shit.

Spot on.

Heath Ledger is dead

It's hard to comprehend this:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/23/movies/23ledger.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1

Oblique Strategy of the day

"The tape is now the music."

I'm having difficulty with this one.

Me on YouTube

I've gotten round to making myself a YouTube profile, so if you're on there, please befriend me: my username is ELSPECTRE82. I've already favourited (a neologism?) loads of cool and not-so-cool videos, and maybe one day in the future I'll get round to making some grainy montages of my own, complete with 80s-style-graphics and a terrible soundtrack, perhaps dedicated to my favourite hunk actor . . . that being the manner of most YouTubers.

Now I'm going to reheat yesterday's Chinese takeaway . . .

Tim Burton and Johnny Depp on The Culture Show tonight (I've never seen Tim Burton doing an interview before), and also the second episode of the new series of ER - maybe Saturday night TV is looking up?

Leave Dandy Dan alone!

Someone keeps coming to my blog through a Dandy Dan referral, and it's freaking me out. Why would someone be so obsessed by a picture of Dandy Dan?

If that's not it, then why not just bookmark http://troutinthemilk.blogspot.com?

It's weird, how people stumble across your rantings and ravings . . .

Further evidence of global insanity

Kevin Keegan returns to Newcastle United.

Our letting agent immediately fixed various problems around the house (anyone who has ever rented knows how bizarre this is).

OMG Pope Tea on YouTube

The Pope has pulled out of a visit to Rome's main university, after students and academics began protesting. Benedict XVI won't condemn the Inquisition's treatment of Galileo, and even quoted an Austrian scientist who said the treatment of Galileo was "reasonable and fair"! Indefinite house arrest and death threats if he didn't recant. Bizarre.

Other news: I was told by a colleague (after telling her of my weakened state) that tea-drinking can reduce the body's absorption of iron. I've done some research, and apparently this only relates to the iron found in plants, not meat, and also that if you have extra Vitamin C then it makes no difference (however, to make sure, you should have your cup of tea with your meal or up to an hour after). Who knew? Tabloid heading: TEA CAUSES ANAEMIA.

I'm feeling pleased with myself because I tipped off Laura from The Modern Age blog about Ryan Adams' antics on YouTube, which include this piece of footage from Ryan and the Cardinals being on tour:




And some other totally random stuff:




And some other really lovely stuff, like this (SAD DAYS: found footage of dreams):




Long post over.

PS. The girl whose legs were badly broken is stable and well enough to have more operations on her legs.

I feel so fucking miserable now.

I didn't ever expect to be trapped in a web of empathy like this.

Monday morning . . .

I'm definitely in need of some of Brian's advice, and he says, "Use filters."

These are two excellent words for my present situation.

Firstly, I have so much marking that I'd probably cry if I didn't filter it into varying degrees of importance. Besides the usual books, I have 32 Year 8 Horror Stories to read, I have 4 classes of Christmas writing tests to mark, 32 GCSE coursework essays etc. Soon I will have another 32 mini-essays on "Holes" by Louis Sachar. How I will get through this mammoth load of marking is yet to be revealed.

Secondly, I'm not in peak physical condition, and almost fainted in briefing this morning. I had to shuffle out of the door to avoid keeling over. The problem there was that I'd been ill all weekend, and in briefings everyone is crowded into the staffroom which quickly becomes very hot and stuffy. Very few people are early enough to grab a chair, so it's more likely that you'll be standing, and that the senior team will be going on and on and on about something or other. Today I was phasing in and out (filtering?), unable to focus on what they were talking about, until the head of 6th Form started telling us about a girl who was knocked down by another 6th former on Friday.

We thought that the girl had "just" broken her leg, but she's now in a critical condition because the breaks and fractures are extremely severe, and the trauma of undergoing two long and complex operations led to her kidneys beginning to fail.

See how succinctly I can put it? Instead, we had a chronological account of every horrible detail of the poor girl's experience in hospital.

The girl also has two younger siblings in school, neither of whom have been told just how ill their sister is. I teach one of them tomorrow, and I have no idea how to cope with the situation. If he doesn't know how ill she is, then it would be strange to ask them to say a prayer for her, and obviously being a heathen, asking kids to say a prayer when I'm not obliged to by school rules is not something I'd do anyway. Still, I want to show some support.

Best, I think, to just give them a shitload of tasks and get them to work quietly and/or loudly.

I'd like to be able to filter this out, but the impact of something like this on a school is staggering. You see head teachers on TV giving speeches about how good pupil X was and it makes relatively little impact on you, but in the actual school there's a shift in everyone's concept of reality .

I hope she's ok, particularly for the sake of her two siblings (how awful to think your sister has two broken legs and then for her to die - I think their parents have made the wrong decision about not telling them), and also for the kid driving the car. His life now will be awful enough without something worse happening to her.

I don't have prayers, but she's in my thoughts.

Random Eno advice for any weekend projects

"Remove specifics and convert to ambiguities."

Crap graphics on TV News - love 'em.

On ITN News they just had CANCELLED rubber stamped onto a picture of Hollywood glitz. Hilarious.

I know extraordinarily little about the writers' strike. I should probably find out what they're actually asking for . . .

WTF . . .

is Ryan Adams playing at? Check out his myspace, where you can listen to four strange rock tunes by one of his alter-egos, 'Sleazy Handshake'. I repeat - WTF?

I don't agree with Robert McKee's outlook on the film industry and the business of writing, but when it comes to self-editing he's both astute and pithy: "No one has to see your failures unless you add vanity to folly and exhibit them."

Indeed.

In other news I managed to fix the "broken" central heating with ease late last night, thus feeling like a complete fool for spending the day wasting electricity on energy-consuming heaters and boiling the kettle repeatedly in order to perform ablutions of some nature.

Water pressure - that's all it was. Let more water in = higher pressure = boiler works.

Idiot.

The cold

It's around 3 degrees, and we woke this morning to find our boiler flashing. Unfortunately there is nothing to tell us what this means, and we don't have an emergency number for our letting agent. I've left a message (the apparently check their phone regularly at the weekend, but this doesn't seem to be the case) and written an email, but we've had no word. So I'm holed up in the living room with the electric heater, doing school prep and wondering how many times we'll have to boil the kettle to get enough hot water to wash in (by tomorrow I'm going to be in desperate need of a hair wash) . . . It's not a good state of affairs.

"Overtly resist change"

That's what the random oblique strategy said. Interesting, because at this time of year, everyone's going on about their plans to be different or do new things. I've thought vaguely about some things I'd like to improve on or to change, but nothing so rigid as a set of "resolutions". If anything, I was thinking about how bizarre the words "resolve" and "resolution" are.

I resolve to be a better person - I am resolute about this - I will therefore have a better resolution.

Do we really want to resolve all those untidy endings? Sounds pretty boring if you ask me. I do not resolve to be unresolute.

So my nonresolutions are:

To attempt to have some fingernails (same as every year)
To structure my leisure time so that I can be more productive and spend time working on the projects that make me happy (I always aspire to achieve more, but never can because I never rethink my procrastinating and lazy habits).
To watch less television (relates to the above, obviously).
To spend my free periods and lunchtimes at school productively, and reduce the amount of crap I purposelessly haul to and from school.
To go round to (more) people's houses more and invite them to ours.
To complete and be happy with any of the following: a short story (or short play), an EP, a set of screenprints or artworks.
To file things straight away (if this requires tidying or reorganising my current filing
system, then so be it).
To travel more.

I think that those are all about not changing and more about being better at being me. But that might be bullshit.