I’m hot.
A simple solution to that problem would of course be to turn the heating down but that can not be done as heaps of clothes I just washed are drying and need to be dry a.s.a.p. cause I’m packing! One more day of cheeky brats and then, after a brief stop in MK, it’s all wine, cheese and sunshine – although some of you did not fail to point out that it’s actually raining out there right now. Well, if I’m to trust Metcheck, I shall bring you sunshine!
In the meantime, here’s a funny one for you:
I’ve spent last few days at a school specialising in languages, although I mostly taught English, but that is not the point. As many other schools with the same specialism, all signs inside this one were not only in English but also in other languages spoken/taught in the school. One of the languages this school included in its signs is Polish – not that they teach Polish or that I’d have encountered any Polish kids, but that, once again, is not the point. The point is that this morning, as I was walking through the building, I noticed the signs on the languages classrooms and stopped dead before starting to giggle uncontrollably: the sign said ‘languages’ ‘langues’ ‘Sprachen’ ‘lenguas’ and the same thing again and again in other languages unknown to me, but next to all that I read ‘grubiaństwa’, which is Polish all right, but means… ‘obscenities’.
I can’t help but wonder if it is a result of a failed attempt on translation by someone who didn’t actually speak Polish or if someone played a practical joke on the school.
I’m also trying to decide whether I should tell someone in the school or leave it for other random Poles to enjoy…
Thursday 23 October 2008
Monday 20 October 2008
Drunk driving
What do you say to one of the most important people in your world when they tell you they drank and drove and hit something and didn’t know what it was, cause they were so drunk that they didn’t even think to stop and see?
You ask them if they’re ok.
You ask them if there was any evidence of blood on the car and start crying in relief when they tell you that it was definitely an inanimate hard object given the damage to the vehicle.
And then you rage and you summon all the most elaborate invectives in your vocabulary but you fail and resort to the most common ones, but your deliver them vehemently in spite of tears.
Because, thinking they could control their drinking and didn’t need AA anymore, they deserved each and every one of them. And they know it too, but still you tell them.
You tell them.
And then you tell them, you’re so angry with them you don’t even want to speak to them anymore and that if they don’t get their posterior back into AA meetings, you’ll never speak to them again. Cause God knows that once you’ve decided you loved someone it was damn hard to get rid of you, but you’re not going to go to bed each night wondering whether they killed someone or themselves.
And then, a couple of hours later, you cry yourself to sleep imagining what life would be like without them.
And that, ladies and gentleman, seriously sucks.
You ask them if they’re ok.
You ask them if there was any evidence of blood on the car and start crying in relief when they tell you that it was definitely an inanimate hard object given the damage to the vehicle.
And then you rage and you summon all the most elaborate invectives in your vocabulary but you fail and resort to the most common ones, but your deliver them vehemently in spite of tears.
Because, thinking they could control their drinking and didn’t need AA anymore, they deserved each and every one of them. And they know it too, but still you tell them.
You tell them.
And then you tell them, you’re so angry with them you don’t even want to speak to them anymore and that if they don’t get their posterior back into AA meetings, you’ll never speak to them again. Cause God knows that once you’ve decided you loved someone it was damn hard to get rid of you, but you’re not going to go to bed each night wondering whether they killed someone or themselves.
And then, a couple of hours later, you cry yourself to sleep imagining what life would be like without them.
And that, ladies and gentleman, seriously sucks.
Thursday 16 October 2008
On being Polish
I had two interesting conversations concerned with my nationality today. They went like this:
1.
- Miss, is it true you’re Polish?
- Yes, I am.
- Aaaaaah, that explains it!
- What do you mean?
- Polish people are nasty!
2.
- Miss, are you really Polish?
- Yes, I am.
- Oooooh, bless! (in a tone of voice implying that it was the most endearing thing my interlocutor had ever heard).
One was with a student, one with a teaching assistant. Guess which one with whom. Guess which one annoyed me more.
1.
- Miss, is it true you’re Polish?
- Yes, I am.
- Aaaaaah, that explains it!
- What do you mean?
- Polish people are nasty!
2.
- Miss, are you really Polish?
- Yes, I am.
- Oooooh, bless! (in a tone of voice implying that it was the most endearing thing my interlocutor had ever heard).
One was with a student, one with a teaching assistant. Guess which one with whom. Guess which one annoyed me more.
Wednesday 8 October 2008
Russell
We met a few weeks ago, during a weekend I was spending in MK. He was a little sceptical about me, but then decided that I was ok, or at least so it seemed, since he agreed to lend me his pillow. In exchange, I lent him my ear, and he told me stories of Brussels, his hometown, although we both thought it was quite an unusual place for a Polar Bear to be from.
He told me he often dreamt about Iceland and was quite disappointed to have missed an opportunity to go there, but hoped that one day maybe another opportunity will arise again. I told him of my dreams of Norway and said that I could maybe take him with me if I ever went, if he was interested in going, that is. We talked and talked, until we fell asleep, me with my head on his pillow, him with his muzzle still by my ear. The next morning I was rushing for my train, so we exchanged hasty ‘nice to have met you’-s and ‘see you when I see you’-s.
The following weekend, I was delightfully surprised to see him climb out of Paul’s bag – he wanted to see me, he said. He thought that we should talk some more. The beginnings were slightly awkward as Hoffman the Dog was somewhat unimpressed with what he thought was competition. Happily, he quickly warmed up to Russell and decided that it was nice to have someone to keep him company when I was away. Besides, he said, Russell could do things he couldn’t do himself, because of being too big (Russell is a very small Polar Bear). Like get into my teacher’s bag so that I don’t have to go alone to that vile school with vile children that make me swear in the classroom. Like go places and then tell him all about them. Cause Hoffman is a very curious Dog, and Russell is full of stories and enjoys telling them, unlike Didier, who is a Travelling and Adventurous Frog, but being a Frog is rather haughty, a trait that Hoffman doesn’t appreciate much.
He told me he often dreamt about Iceland and was quite disappointed to have missed an opportunity to go there, but hoped that one day maybe another opportunity will arise again. I told him of my dreams of Norway and said that I could maybe take him with me if I ever went, if he was interested in going, that is. We talked and talked, until we fell asleep, me with my head on his pillow, him with his muzzle still by my ear. The next morning I was rushing for my train, so we exchanged hasty ‘nice to have met you’-s and ‘see you when I see you’-s.
The following weekend, I was delightfully surprised to see him climb out of Paul’s bag – he wanted to see me, he said. He thought that we should talk some more. The beginnings were slightly awkward as Hoffman the Dog was somewhat unimpressed with what he thought was competition. Happily, he quickly warmed up to Russell and decided that it was nice to have someone to keep him company when I was away. Besides, he said, Russell could do things he couldn’t do himself, because of being too big (Russell is a very small Polar Bear). Like get into my teacher’s bag so that I don’t have to go alone to that vile school with vile children that make me swear in the classroom. Like go places and then tell him all about them. Cause Hoffman is a very curious Dog, and Russell is full of stories and enjoys telling them, unlike Didier, who is a Travelling and Adventurous Frog, but being a Frog is rather haughty, a trait that Hoffman doesn’t appreciate much.
On a few occasions Russell talked about going back to MK, as he missed Paul, but somehow never made it into his bag. Nevertheless, his first question every morning is invariably ‘Is it Friday yet?’ (polar bears don’t have a very good sense of time). If I say ‘no’, he asks ‘how long till Friday?’. If I say ‘yes’, he says ‘Uh, oh, happy Friday then’ and lets out a chuffed growl.
Tuesday 7 October 2008
I have been tagged!
It is always nice to find out that people read your musings – especially when the main reason for your blog is to stay in touch with all those people you love but are far away from, as it is the case for yours truly. Consequently, I was thrilled to find myself tagged by Tasha – I didn’t know she was reading, and now I do, and that makes me happy.
So first my 7 random facts:
1) I love random facts. Like that the Earth is 0.02 degrees hotter during full moon. Like that in France technically it is illegal for a woman to wear trousers (except when riding a horse or a bike) because of a law dated 1892 that was never abolished. Like that apparently coffee drinkers have sex more often than people who don’t drink coffee.
2) I share my birthday with, among others, John Coltrane, Ray Charles and Eurypides (although I sincerely do not know how did Wikipedia people manage to figure it out for that last one).
3) My very favourite place in the entire world are Tatra mountains in Poland (Zakopane). Any mountains make me happy, but there is just something about these particular peaks that makes it a true soul asylum for me. No demons can go there.
4) I sing most of the time. I try to keep it in my head when in public, but I quite often fail.
5) I love garlic sandwiches. One of the best things about being sick when I was little was my dad making them for me (cause garlic boosts up your defences and you’re sick in bed, so no one cares if you sweat it out and stink). Take a slice of bread, butter it, put chopped up raw garlic on it and finish off with some salt. Yum. (I have just made some for Manpreet, as she’s poorly and off work, she was sceptical at first but then loved them).
6) I can’t sleep without my stuffed dog. What can I say – a 25 years long habit is not easily lost. Not that I’ve tried though.
7) My favourite season is winter. Even if it is not snowing, although of course it is much better with snow. There is something about the crispness of the winter air that makes you feel more alive and makes everything sharper and more there. And then there are the evenings, dark and cold, which make your home and bed even cosier than usual.
And now for the tagging –
Tasha has already tagged some of the blogs I would have tagged, but there’s still one by an old friend of mine Ewelina and Carina’s culinary pages, and then some by people I don’t know but whose writing I enjoy: Annie Rhiannon, Morning Coffee, German Joys. I know it's not 7 but that's all I've got.
So first my 7 random facts:
1) I love random facts. Like that the Earth is 0.02 degrees hotter during full moon. Like that in France technically it is illegal for a woman to wear trousers (except when riding a horse or a bike) because of a law dated 1892 that was never abolished. Like that apparently coffee drinkers have sex more often than people who don’t drink coffee.
2) I share my birthday with, among others, John Coltrane, Ray Charles and Eurypides (although I sincerely do not know how did Wikipedia people manage to figure it out for that last one).
3) My very favourite place in the entire world are Tatra mountains in Poland (Zakopane). Any mountains make me happy, but there is just something about these particular peaks that makes it a true soul asylum for me. No demons can go there.
4) I sing most of the time. I try to keep it in my head when in public, but I quite often fail.
5) I love garlic sandwiches. One of the best things about being sick when I was little was my dad making them for me (cause garlic boosts up your defences and you’re sick in bed, so no one cares if you sweat it out and stink). Take a slice of bread, butter it, put chopped up raw garlic on it and finish off with some salt. Yum. (I have just made some for Manpreet, as she’s poorly and off work, she was sceptical at first but then loved them).
6) I can’t sleep without my stuffed dog. What can I say – a 25 years long habit is not easily lost. Not that I’ve tried though.
7) My favourite season is winter. Even if it is not snowing, although of course it is much better with snow. There is something about the crispness of the winter air that makes you feel more alive and makes everything sharper and more there. And then there are the evenings, dark and cold, which make your home and bed even cosier than usual.
And now for the tagging –
Tasha has already tagged some of the blogs I would have tagged, but there’s still one by an old friend of mine Ewelina and Carina’s culinary pages, and then some by people I don’t know but whose writing I enjoy: Annie Rhiannon, Morning Coffee, German Joys. I know it's not 7 but that's all I've got.
Monday 6 October 2008
On swearing in the classroom
I said ‘shit’ in the classroom and I sincerely hope that you can’t get sacked for that.
It was the last lesson of the day, and just after I had texted Paul saying that if the last lot I had today was to be half as bad (rude, disruptive, disrespectful) as the four I had before, I was going to cry.
It was much worse.
And so I said ‘shit’.
I said: ‘Why would I care how you feel if you don’t care how your behaviour makes me feel and you obviously don’t give a shit?’
‘Did she say the S WORD???!!!’
‘Did she actually say S-H-I-T?’
‘Miss, you can’t swear!’
‘I will tell that you swore in the classroom!’
Sure you will sweetheart. Cause you’re dumb enough to hope it will get you out of the detention. And cause you’re petty enough to want to get back at me for that detention, even if you’ve deserved every single minute of it and even more, and you know it.
I hate supply teaching. I really do.
But I have to do it for now, so I will light some candles, pour myself a glass of wine and think happy thoughts.
It was the last lesson of the day, and just after I had texted Paul saying that if the last lot I had today was to be half as bad (rude, disruptive, disrespectful) as the four I had before, I was going to cry.
It was much worse.
And so I said ‘shit’.
I said: ‘Why would I care how you feel if you don’t care how your behaviour makes me feel and you obviously don’t give a shit?’
‘Did she say the S WORD???!!!’
‘Did she actually say S-H-I-T?’
‘Miss, you can’t swear!’
‘I will tell that you swore in the classroom!’
Sure you will sweetheart. Cause you’re dumb enough to hope it will get you out of the detention. And cause you’re petty enough to want to get back at me for that detention, even if you’ve deserved every single minute of it and even more, and you know it.
I hate supply teaching. I really do.
But I have to do it for now, so I will light some candles, pour myself a glass of wine and think happy thoughts.
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