Firstly I would like to start with a slightly belated Birthday wish to my lovely Flat 19, into which we moved three years ago yesterday. Happy Birthday!!!!! (I should've written the blog yesterday but cocktails happened and the motion of typing would definitely not have happened after I got back. Oh dear lord, no!)
Three years ago when we first moved in, we were graced with a snow day on the following day, 1st Feb. No such luck today. A Baltic day but no snow.
We've managed to live through the terrible two tantrums which have left us with broken taps in the bathroom, leaking pipes and a busted toilet flush. Not to mention all the appliances that broke recently, suddenly no longer compatible with our aging apartment. But it is still as wonderfully red, black and pretty as it always has been (and of course rammed packed with stuff!).
I am very excited for this next year, to add to my cloud wall in the bathroom, with some more of my cloud photographs. I'm just attempting to buy frames. And in true Helen form am being extremely picky. (No. Me? Never!) What I actually want is driftwood frames, but am struggling to find any and may have to give up the search and settle for white wood frames instead......We'll see.
Well Flat 19. Here's to the next 3 years and all the friends that will visit us, and all the people we will feed until they're close to death and all the writing I will do and all the holidays we will plan. We love you! You're an awesome place to live!!!!! (Could you just try and not incur anymore breakages please? Thank you.)
And now for a maths problem:
There are 5 ladies out for ladies night and 10 pitchers of cocktail. How much did the ladies drink each???
Now that's a maths question I can get on board with and I did with four lovely ladies last night - thus the lack of Birthday blog.
Man we had a good night and a ridiculous amount of alcohol. But it was amazing and sort of their fault for making the alcohol so cheap and the happy hour run all night. Whoop!!!!! The Long Island Iced Tea was flowing as well as the apple fruity vodka thing that I can't remember the name of. And it was definitely what the Doctor ordered.
The food was awesome too. Big stodgy South American stuff! Yum Yum Yum! It definitely soaked up some of that alcohol, as I had to be up at 6am for work and I didn't have a hangover. Oh and I wore my new Irregular Choice shoes that I treated myself to at the weekend and they are so god darn pretty. (There is a pic on facebook and maybe one day I will learn how to put photos on here. I am a rem though when it comes to technology, as most of you know very well.)
Thank you L and T and J and J for a wonderful night and allowing me to tell the playdoughisms story again, twice!
One idea that was bandied about last night which I thought was genius, was that we should open a Coyote Ugly style bar, where they would all dance on the bar and I would sit in the corner singing. Ha ha. (Okay so the sitting in the corner singing thing was my idea...shock horror!) Definitely on to a winner there. We will discuss further over the next round of cocktails.
And the most amazing thing was when the bill came and we only owed 20 quid each and that was including tip! Whoop! Another ridiculously cheap and wonderful night out. And what's even better is that I'm gonna see L on Friday too! Twice in a week . Yipee!!!!!
Okay, so anyone else thinking this blog has been far too nice and not particularly ranty at all?????
I had to top up my monthly travel card this morning and had a nasty little shock. £112.60! Are you taking the piss??? I was told it wasn't going up this year because it went up last year and it's normally every other year it goes up. Freakin' scoundrels. An extra £6 a month when you get paid frick all, is actually quite a lot and a very nasty shock first thing on a Wednesday morning. TFL bastards.
It's feckin' freezing! Finally winter hit but a little late. It's supposed to be Spring in a month. The little baby animals ain't gonna be coming out, they're gonna take one step and freeze in their tracks. The flowers and leaves are gonna refuse to open out and the people are gonna get more and more miserable.
I knew it was cold today as I had to keep my coat on on the tube. (I hear you all gasp in shock). Granted it was unbuttoned and I had removed my scarf and hat, but still......Four layers of clothing and a coat and I wasn't sweating like a P I G........unheard of.
And now for an extremely rude French teacher. Oh my God. Some of the children take a French lesson on a Wednesday morning and today I was running around doing nappies at the speed of light to make sure they were all done on time. And when I went out to take another child one of the staff had a panic that one of the children was missing from the French lesson. So I just quickly peeped through the window and checked. "No. There are 7 and there are supposed to be 7." Okay, so everything was fine..................
Or not..........The French teacher came out and was all, "Can you please not look through the window, I'm trying to do a lesson here and the children are getting distracted."
So I said, "Oh I'm sorry but I just needed to quickly count the children."
Then she went off on one. "I am trying to do a lesson and you are watching like a show. I am not putting on a show for you to watch...." Blah blah blah fucking blah. Grumpy Bitch!
And then she finished with the extremely mature (baring in mind she must be at least mid thirties - not that that's old, I'm simply making the point that she ain't a little kid). "Do you get it?!" And stormed back in slamming the door behind her.
Oh, it's a good job I work with kids because if I was surrounded by adults at that point and she had spoken to my and my staff like that, I would have flipped. My temper flared and I could feel myself tensing. But typical Helen said nothing just went away muttering to myself that, "if she ever speaks to me or my staff like that again, I'll be lodging a formal complaint."
What a fucking cow. It's my classroom, my kids and my staff. I am in charge of the place and if I need to do a head count then she can just fuck off.
But then the funniest thing was that after she finished the lesson she sat on the carpet and was rude to another member of staff and then didn't move for about 10 minutes, whilst I continued the nappies, got the beds ready and started them washing their hands for lunch. I could tell she wanted to speak to me or say something, but again I was worried about having an outburst in front of the children, so I carried on doing what I was doing and ignored her.
Well, at the end of the day, if she wants to speak to me adult to adult, like a real person would, then all she has to say is, "Can I have a word please?" But sulking around on the carpet area and being a stuck up grumpy bitch means you don't deserve my time of day. And so eventually she got up and used the bathroom before leaving in a strop. Ahhh teenagers.........
So, I told my managers just in case she tried to lodge some sort of complaint about us and they completely agreed with me and said that if it happens again I can request a new teacher and say we don't want her anymore. Ha! In your face French teacher. Just try and cross me again next week. Muhahahahahahahahaha.
Psychotic Parent number 1 seems to have calmed down and is actually speaking to me again this week. But how quickly the psychotic can change. I ain't holding my breath, put it that way.
And on a random note, I think there should be speed nappy changing competitions between nurseries. It would be really funny! NO? Just me that finds that amusing. I'd be awesome at that. Ten nappies in 25 minutes, including one poo (though sometimes they can all be poos which would of course add to the time a bit) is not bad.
An over share???
He he. Anyway, I hope the last part was ranty enough for you. I think I'm gonna have to put my slippers on. My feet are freezing!
Looking forward to a nice night on the couch with A. It's been a long time.
Have a good rest of week where possible. Until the next blog........
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
It must be bad.....second blog of the day.
And the Matilda bubble was burst within about 60secs of walking in........with the words:
"You need to see this email."
Psychotic parent number 1 strikes again! And this time I essentially get called rude (not in so many words but in a round about way and I would just like to state for the record, that I may be rude behind your back - you neurotic man or woman - but I would never be rude in the classroom! Never!)
Talk about breakin' my balls!
So of course I'm instantly pissed off and then it continues all day. More emails, more threats, more ball breaking.
Is it not enough that your child is settled, happy and healthy??? That is so much more than some people can even hope for. So why does the fact that for 2 days we have moved their tea time to 4.30 from 4.00 suddenly become the end of the world. I'd love them to actually witness an apocalypse.
Oh My God! If the biggest issue in the world today was the lateness of tea time I'd be freakin' relieved. But I think starving people, homeless people, victims of abuse, victims of bereavement and to be honest, breaking my fingernail pretty much trump that!
I really don't get paid enough for putting up with this crap, but what they don't comprehend is that it really effects me because I love my kids and everything I do is for them. And I care about my job and doing a good job while I'm there, other wise what the hell is the point in it all? So when I'm basically being told that they're gonna take a child out of my care because of a change in routine that had nothing to do with me, I just wanna scream!
I feel guilty about everything, even if it has nothing to do with me. But now I'm being named in league with management I just feel crappy and my mind goes into crazy over thinking mode. My lunch break today, basically consisted of me coming up with 4 different strategies for how we adapt the afternoon session. It's freakin' crazy and no amount of Matilda thinking could remove the heavy feeling in my gut, that guilty feeling that I always get when people make complaints.
I just don't know how much more I can take. (Melodramatic I know, but also pretty true.)
I actually resigned on a post it note today. Shame no one took it seriously.
Who knows, maybe tomorrow that post-it note will take on a more formal look..........
Ah well, now it's time to squash down all the anger with some good food and a film - man that could leave me with some BAD indigestion......
Good night. Have a good one.
"You need to see this email."
Psychotic parent number 1 strikes again! And this time I essentially get called rude (not in so many words but in a round about way and I would just like to state for the record, that I may be rude behind your back - you neurotic man or woman - but I would never be rude in the classroom! Never!)
Talk about breakin' my balls!
So of course I'm instantly pissed off and then it continues all day. More emails, more threats, more ball breaking.
Is it not enough that your child is settled, happy and healthy??? That is so much more than some people can even hope for. So why does the fact that for 2 days we have moved their tea time to 4.30 from 4.00 suddenly become the end of the world. I'd love them to actually witness an apocalypse.
Oh My God! If the biggest issue in the world today was the lateness of tea time I'd be freakin' relieved. But I think starving people, homeless people, victims of abuse, victims of bereavement and to be honest, breaking my fingernail pretty much trump that!
I really don't get paid enough for putting up with this crap, but what they don't comprehend is that it really effects me because I love my kids and everything I do is for them. And I care about my job and doing a good job while I'm there, other wise what the hell is the point in it all? So when I'm basically being told that they're gonna take a child out of my care because of a change in routine that had nothing to do with me, I just wanna scream!
I feel guilty about everything, even if it has nothing to do with me. But now I'm being named in league with management I just feel crappy and my mind goes into crazy over thinking mode. My lunch break today, basically consisted of me coming up with 4 different strategies for how we adapt the afternoon session. It's freakin' crazy and no amount of Matilda thinking could remove the heavy feeling in my gut, that guilty feeling that I always get when people make complaints.
I just don't know how much more I can take. (Melodramatic I know, but also pretty true.)
I actually resigned on a post it note today. Shame no one took it seriously.
Who knows, maybe tomorrow that post-it note will take on a more formal look..........
Ah well, now it's time to squash down all the anger with some good food and a film - man that could leave me with some BAD indigestion......
Good night. Have a good one.
Google opening times for the patience shop......I'm running a little low.
As usual, apologies for length of time between blogs. Been having a slight nightmare recently, but thankfully mystery illness left me after a week and I can now eat things other than plain pasta, plain rice and chicken. Whoop! Oh and I've been having monstrous bowls of cereal in the mornings, just to say in your face stomach beast! Ha!
Now I will warn you, it's gonna be a work rant, but as usual I can't really speak my mind for fear of the sackage, so I will unwillingly censor myself.......urgh!
Basically it's shit! (my job, that is) But I've always known that. It goes through periods of less shittiness and increased shittiness. But at the moment I think it's at the peak of shittiness, like it can go no worse. Though I shouldn't even think that because we'll probably end up with an explosion or a fire or something that could really put a spanner in the works.
I''m angry and grumpy all the time. The kids aren't listening because they like to see me losing my mind and I just don't think I can keep up the facade any longer. I may be smiling on the outside but I'm raging inside.
I actually said to the kids the other day that I needed to go shopping, but to a very specific shop. I told them I needed to go to the patience shop, because I'd run out and there wasn't even any in my back pocket.
And it's true. My vast supplies of patience are greatly depleting and every day they rob a bit more, wear me down until my grey hairs have started to show again. (They had disappeared......Well, either that or they were hiding, lurking, waiting for the day that they could latch on again and start breeding.) Evil little f****ers! (I would just like to clarify here that I'm talking about my grey hairs...nothing else!!!!!!)
And any one that knows me, would probably say what amazing patience I have, and it used to be in abundance, like I could just pick it out of the air, consume it from the water I drink (or vimto, let's face it). But now I have a block and even if the patience is there, it ain't getting through and I'm losing it, big time!
So that got me thinking.........I wonder if there's a job out there that doesn't involve contact with others. Where I can just shut myself away and be alone and possibly sway and rock. Hmmmmmmm. Anything other than a psych patient come to mind?????? Eh, never mind, I'm way over qualified for that anyway.
Okay, well maybe I can have a job where you don't get complaints such as:
You didn't change my daughter's t-shirt.
Where is her hair clip? She's always losing hair clips and I have to keep buying more.
I don't think you're giving my child enough attention.
They keep having accidents (toilet accidents) but they never do at home.
And so on and so forth.............
Either that, or I'd like a job where I could actually speak my mind without any repercussions. That would be the most amazing job ever!!!!
So when I get comments like this........
My child is scared of coming to school. He says he doesn't want to come. I think it's because the staff are all grumpy, with the exception of you, Helen and you keep changing staff and managers. (They then threatened to take out this child and it turns out he was scared of having toilet accidents because he gets shouted at at home. And who discovered this? Me! Did I get an apology..............No!)
Or this.......My child is really upset when they come in and we're worried you're not paying them enough attention. Also their English is not improving. (Okay, all I will say here is that they just had a baby brother, it was after christmas which they'd spent with all their relatives that don't speak English and before Christmas they'd been doing shorter days.......Anyone else think there may be a correlation here??????? I've said it before......it ain't rocket science, it's common sense.)
Or this........We have a parent who regularly strolls in at 6.10/6.15 and never calls to say they'll be late. (I only get paid until 6). And the other day they came at 6.20 and said, "I was going to apologise but it looks like you're having a party and no one wants to go home." (I really had to beat the anger down. How exactly can I go home when there are children left and what do you want me to do sit them in a corner and not do anything with them. Of course we are going to entertain them why they are with us, it's not their fault they're picked up late!)
So if I had a job where I could speak my mind then I could tell them where to go! But alas, that day will never come and a job like that will never exist, because you're not allowed to do or say anything for fear of upsetting others. Shame really.....Ha ha.
I think I may have found my solution........A job with no kids. Then there would be no parents. OOOOOOO, I like that idea.
Now enough of that. After my shockingly bad day at work yesterday, the day had an amazing turn of events. For Christmas A's sister, S, bought us tickets for the Matilda musical. I was sceptical, I have to say as it was one of my all time favourite books and I've worshipped Roald Dahl since I was about 5. I always identified so much with the Matilda character, despite having a wonderful family and I was worried that making a song and dance out of it might ruin my beloved memories of said book.
But no. It was absolutely phenomenal! And what was weird was the audience were pretty much all the same age, my age, like it had captured the generation that had first read Matilda and had cherished it so much. The atmosphere was electric and there was this wonderous collective feeling. We felt every moment together, every joke, every shock, every moment of terror. And I have honestly never felt so invested in the characters and the story, so completely absorbed!
I would recommend to anyone that has ever loved this book, or anything by Roald Dahl. I guarantee it will have you dusting off your old books and digging it out for another read.
The Kids of the cast were phenomenal and I have to say I was worried they would be those irritating stage school brats that creep the life out of me. But they were actually shit hot! They were made to be up there and totally deserved the limelight. And whilst they were inevitably stage school brats, they just really went out and gave their all. I found myself welling up, reliving my youth. Seeing the story of my youth played out before me. To see the characters almost exactly how I'd imagined them. It was truly magical.
There was a standing ovation and I can honestly say that I've never heard applause that loud at the end of a show. Not even Phantom, not even West Side Story on Broadway. This was real, genuine joy. I was crying, laughing, smiling and just overwhelmed. I can't wait to get cheap tickets and go again. He he.
But the night didn't end there. We hadn't eaten, so A got us a toptable deal and we ended up at Cafe Des Amis in Covent Garden for some ridiculously freakin' awesome French food and fabulous service. The offer was amazing, so check it out. Half price food on up to two courses and a free bottle of wine. Yes that did just read free and wine in the same sentence. Whoop!
The food was amazing. I was buzzing after the musical. The staff were lovely. The wine was flowing. The bill was tiny. What more could you ask for? What a superb night. It even made me (mostly) forget about how crappy work was. Awesomeness!
Finally, I have a warning to those out there considering Netflix, or those that already have it. They should put a sticker on, or some sort of warning before you buy, but they don't. So here's mine.
Warning: Netflix with it's vast array of TV programmes, series from the US and UK, films in every genre you can think of including anime and world cinema, is evil and addictive. Beware, you may find yourself on the couch watching episode after episode or film after film and being unable to move. Side effects may include:
Washing up not done. Flat a complete tip. No writing done and never getting dressed, just sitting in your pyjamas.
So really guys, watch out for that! Ha ha.
Okay, I think I've given you a long enough rant now and hopefully I won't have to deal with the sackage today and have a great Thursday. We are being palaeontologists today and digging for dinosaurs. (I plan awesome activities for my kids. He he)
Ciao for now!
Helen
Now I will warn you, it's gonna be a work rant, but as usual I can't really speak my mind for fear of the sackage, so I will unwillingly censor myself.......urgh!
Basically it's shit! (my job, that is) But I've always known that. It goes through periods of less shittiness and increased shittiness. But at the moment I think it's at the peak of shittiness, like it can go no worse. Though I shouldn't even think that because we'll probably end up with an explosion or a fire or something that could really put a spanner in the works.
I''m angry and grumpy all the time. The kids aren't listening because they like to see me losing my mind and I just don't think I can keep up the facade any longer. I may be smiling on the outside but I'm raging inside.
I actually said to the kids the other day that I needed to go shopping, but to a very specific shop. I told them I needed to go to the patience shop, because I'd run out and there wasn't even any in my back pocket.
And it's true. My vast supplies of patience are greatly depleting and every day they rob a bit more, wear me down until my grey hairs have started to show again. (They had disappeared......Well, either that or they were hiding, lurking, waiting for the day that they could latch on again and start breeding.) Evil little f****ers! (I would just like to clarify here that I'm talking about my grey hairs...nothing else!!!!!!)
And any one that knows me, would probably say what amazing patience I have, and it used to be in abundance, like I could just pick it out of the air, consume it from the water I drink (or vimto, let's face it). But now I have a block and even if the patience is there, it ain't getting through and I'm losing it, big time!
So that got me thinking.........I wonder if there's a job out there that doesn't involve contact with others. Where I can just shut myself away and be alone and possibly sway and rock. Hmmmmmmm. Anything other than a psych patient come to mind?????? Eh, never mind, I'm way over qualified for that anyway.
Okay, well maybe I can have a job where you don't get complaints such as:
You didn't change my daughter's t-shirt.
Where is her hair clip? She's always losing hair clips and I have to keep buying more.
I don't think you're giving my child enough attention.
They keep having accidents (toilet accidents) but they never do at home.
And so on and so forth.............
Either that, or I'd like a job where I could actually speak my mind without any repercussions. That would be the most amazing job ever!!!!
So when I get comments like this........
My child is scared of coming to school. He says he doesn't want to come. I think it's because the staff are all grumpy, with the exception of you, Helen and you keep changing staff and managers. (They then threatened to take out this child and it turns out he was scared of having toilet accidents because he gets shouted at at home. And who discovered this? Me! Did I get an apology..............No!)
Or this.......My child is really upset when they come in and we're worried you're not paying them enough attention. Also their English is not improving. (Okay, all I will say here is that they just had a baby brother, it was after christmas which they'd spent with all their relatives that don't speak English and before Christmas they'd been doing shorter days.......Anyone else think there may be a correlation here??????? I've said it before......it ain't rocket science, it's common sense.)
Or this........We have a parent who regularly strolls in at 6.10/6.15 and never calls to say they'll be late. (I only get paid until 6). And the other day they came at 6.20 and said, "I was going to apologise but it looks like you're having a party and no one wants to go home." (I really had to beat the anger down. How exactly can I go home when there are children left and what do you want me to do sit them in a corner and not do anything with them. Of course we are going to entertain them why they are with us, it's not their fault they're picked up late!)
So if I had a job where I could speak my mind then I could tell them where to go! But alas, that day will never come and a job like that will never exist, because you're not allowed to do or say anything for fear of upsetting others. Shame really.....Ha ha.
I think I may have found my solution........A job with no kids. Then there would be no parents. OOOOOOO, I like that idea.
Now enough of that. After my shockingly bad day at work yesterday, the day had an amazing turn of events. For Christmas A's sister, S, bought us tickets for the Matilda musical. I was sceptical, I have to say as it was one of my all time favourite books and I've worshipped Roald Dahl since I was about 5. I always identified so much with the Matilda character, despite having a wonderful family and I was worried that making a song and dance out of it might ruin my beloved memories of said book.
But no. It was absolutely phenomenal! And what was weird was the audience were pretty much all the same age, my age, like it had captured the generation that had first read Matilda and had cherished it so much. The atmosphere was electric and there was this wonderous collective feeling. We felt every moment together, every joke, every shock, every moment of terror. And I have honestly never felt so invested in the characters and the story, so completely absorbed!
I would recommend to anyone that has ever loved this book, or anything by Roald Dahl. I guarantee it will have you dusting off your old books and digging it out for another read.
The Kids of the cast were phenomenal and I have to say I was worried they would be those irritating stage school brats that creep the life out of me. But they were actually shit hot! They were made to be up there and totally deserved the limelight. And whilst they were inevitably stage school brats, they just really went out and gave their all. I found myself welling up, reliving my youth. Seeing the story of my youth played out before me. To see the characters almost exactly how I'd imagined them. It was truly magical.
There was a standing ovation and I can honestly say that I've never heard applause that loud at the end of a show. Not even Phantom, not even West Side Story on Broadway. This was real, genuine joy. I was crying, laughing, smiling and just overwhelmed. I can't wait to get cheap tickets and go again. He he.
But the night didn't end there. We hadn't eaten, so A got us a toptable deal and we ended up at Cafe Des Amis in Covent Garden for some ridiculously freakin' awesome French food and fabulous service. The offer was amazing, so check it out. Half price food on up to two courses and a free bottle of wine. Yes that did just read free and wine in the same sentence. Whoop!
The food was amazing. I was buzzing after the musical. The staff were lovely. The wine was flowing. The bill was tiny. What more could you ask for? What a superb night. It even made me (mostly) forget about how crappy work was. Awesomeness!
Finally, I have a warning to those out there considering Netflix, or those that already have it. They should put a sticker on, or some sort of warning before you buy, but they don't. So here's mine.
Warning: Netflix with it's vast array of TV programmes, series from the US and UK, films in every genre you can think of including anime and world cinema, is evil and addictive. Beware, you may find yourself on the couch watching episode after episode or film after film and being unable to move. Side effects may include:
Washing up not done. Flat a complete tip. No writing done and never getting dressed, just sitting in your pyjamas.
So really guys, watch out for that! Ha ha.
Okay, I think I've given you a long enough rant now and hopefully I won't have to deal with the sackage today and have a great Thursday. We are being palaeontologists today and digging for dinosaurs. (I plan awesome activities for my kids. He he)
Ciao for now!
Helen
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
2 packets of crisps and that bloody horse.
Drum roll please.......It's my 50th Blog. Whoop!
The big five 0. Was beginning to think I'd never get there. I do want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read some of them along the way. If I've made you giggle at some point, then job done. But to those who have been there for every rant, for every bitter, cynical outburst, I thank you from the bottom of my gnarled, blackened, northern heart.
And so, I commence number 50 with a mysterious illness that's been plaguing me for the last week. Headache, backache, feeling sick, but never being sick (which is really irritating!) and drained of energy..
Now, I hear some of you cry PREGNANT! And I would just like to clarify. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!
And I don't think we need to say anything further on the matter. Thank you.
So then in addition to that, I've barely eaten properly since last Wednesday night. (I know, if I don't eat there's definitely something wrong.) I've been literally having plain foods like pasta, rice and chicken, crackers and dry crumpets. YUM! And I haven't even been finishing my small portions.
"Unheard of", I hear you cry. "Helen's a right fatty". And right you are, but I could only manage half of a small Andrea pizza,so come to your own conclusions.
So people have been saying to me, Oh it's that stomach bug that's going around. But how? I ain't been sick. I ain't been rushing to the toilet every five minutes. I'm not in any pain. I just feel as though there's some angry beast obstructing my food, bloating my tummy and making me feel like general shit! And that of course filled me with wind and all the lack of food made me weak and even more lacking in energy. So that was fun, especially for A. Ha ha.
And of course in true Helen style, I haven't taken any time off or gone to the Doctors or anything. I mean, why let professionals help? I'm Helen. I can beat this myself. With my Iron gut and sheer northern stubbornness and unwillingness to accept help. Grrrrrrrrr! I can do this. And (touch wood) a week later, I have beaten it. Though I would like to know how much longer I have to subdue the beast with dry foods, 'cause I'm getting a little peeved now and I'm just gaggin' for a morning bowl of cereal.
So, today I will take it easy with the dryness of my food and if I still feel good tomorrow, then I challenge that beast to a duel. Muhahahahahahahah. I will have cereal. I will.
Yesterday was definitely my breakthrough day, as I was hungry behind the weirdness and I managed to eat at all three meals. Plus, when I got home I was so hungry and knew I had to wait about 4 hours for tea, that I ate 2 packets of crisps. YES! Crisps are back on the menu.......I must be feeling better. He he.
Also a good chinwag with an impromptu but very welcome tea guest was definitely a good help in curing my mystery illness and chasing away the beast. Thanks C. Good to see you.
And now to completely offend loads of people..........Oh my god. Is any one else sick to the back teeth of WAR HORSE! Oh the epicness, oh the wonder, oh........oh what a pile of shit! Does anyone give a crap??? I have no desire to watch a film all about a horse. One horse. I just don't care. I am completely horse nonchalant and I just don't really care what happened to this horse. No I haven't read the book, or seen the stage version and I won't see the film version. It's the music, the way it's shot and everything. I just wanna rip Steven Spielberg's bloody hair out. And I bet he'll be all like, up for an Oscar or something, for directing. Urgh! I just wanna vomit and not because of the beast.
I think I would make up random subplots about the characters being in love with the horse and my sick mind would get to work that way. I just can't take it so seriously. I've never watched Black Beauty or the Horse Whisperer because I don't give a crap. I guess you have to be a "horse person" or a "war person" to get it. 'Cause I sure as hell don't. And like A said, "If it was about a puppy or a dog, then I'd probably go to see it."
Think about it, WAR DOG! Everyone would be at that cinema.......unless they were a cat lover. He he.
Okay, now enough of the morning rant. I need to get out of my pyjamas and leave for work in 20mins.
Here's to the next 50 rants!
Thanks guys.
Helen
The big five 0. Was beginning to think I'd never get there. I do want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has read some of them along the way. If I've made you giggle at some point, then job done. But to those who have been there for every rant, for every bitter, cynical outburst, I thank you from the bottom of my gnarled, blackened, northern heart.
And so, I commence number 50 with a mysterious illness that's been plaguing me for the last week. Headache, backache, feeling sick, but never being sick (which is really irritating!) and drained of energy..
Now, I hear some of you cry PREGNANT! And I would just like to clarify. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!
And I don't think we need to say anything further on the matter. Thank you.
So then in addition to that, I've barely eaten properly since last Wednesday night. (I know, if I don't eat there's definitely something wrong.) I've been literally having plain foods like pasta, rice and chicken, crackers and dry crumpets. YUM! And I haven't even been finishing my small portions.
"Unheard of", I hear you cry. "Helen's a right fatty". And right you are, but I could only manage half of a small Andrea pizza,so come to your own conclusions.
So people have been saying to me, Oh it's that stomach bug that's going around. But how? I ain't been sick. I ain't been rushing to the toilet every five minutes. I'm not in any pain. I just feel as though there's some angry beast obstructing my food, bloating my tummy and making me feel like general shit! And that of course filled me with wind and all the lack of food made me weak and even more lacking in energy. So that was fun, especially for A. Ha ha.
And of course in true Helen style, I haven't taken any time off or gone to the Doctors or anything. I mean, why let professionals help? I'm Helen. I can beat this myself. With my Iron gut and sheer northern stubbornness and unwillingness to accept help. Grrrrrrrrr! I can do this. And (touch wood) a week later, I have beaten it. Though I would like to know how much longer I have to subdue the beast with dry foods, 'cause I'm getting a little peeved now and I'm just gaggin' for a morning bowl of cereal.
So, today I will take it easy with the dryness of my food and if I still feel good tomorrow, then I challenge that beast to a duel. Muhahahahahahahah. I will have cereal. I will.
Yesterday was definitely my breakthrough day, as I was hungry behind the weirdness and I managed to eat at all three meals. Plus, when I got home I was so hungry and knew I had to wait about 4 hours for tea, that I ate 2 packets of crisps. YES! Crisps are back on the menu.......I must be feeling better. He he.
Also a good chinwag with an impromptu but very welcome tea guest was definitely a good help in curing my mystery illness and chasing away the beast. Thanks C. Good to see you.
And now to completely offend loads of people..........Oh my god. Is any one else sick to the back teeth of WAR HORSE! Oh the epicness, oh the wonder, oh........oh what a pile of shit! Does anyone give a crap??? I have no desire to watch a film all about a horse. One horse. I just don't care. I am completely horse nonchalant and I just don't really care what happened to this horse. No I haven't read the book, or seen the stage version and I won't see the film version. It's the music, the way it's shot and everything. I just wanna rip Steven Spielberg's bloody hair out. And I bet he'll be all like, up for an Oscar or something, for directing. Urgh! I just wanna vomit and not because of the beast.
I think I would make up random subplots about the characters being in love with the horse and my sick mind would get to work that way. I just can't take it so seriously. I've never watched Black Beauty or the Horse Whisperer because I don't give a crap. I guess you have to be a "horse person" or a "war person" to get it. 'Cause I sure as hell don't. And like A said, "If it was about a puppy or a dog, then I'd probably go to see it."
Think about it, WAR DOG! Everyone would be at that cinema.......unless they were a cat lover. He he.
Okay, now enough of the morning rant. I need to get out of my pyjamas and leave for work in 20mins.
Here's to the next 50 rants!
Thanks guys.
Helen
Monday, January 9, 2012
Tube rage, work rage, just rage in general really!
What a day. What a Monday. What a freakin' farce!
Being short staffed, acting manager, having soapy water poured over my head, and finishing the day off with a poo in pants issue (not mine of course), have been just some of the highlights of a monstrously hideous day.
All I wanted was a nice final day as acting manager and a rousing start to my music lessons. But it all went tits up! The new children were.....interesting. If they weren't crying and refusing to do anything but be picked up by a teacher, they were climbing on tables, tipping all the toys out and pouring soapy water over my head.
Some of the children we couldn't get to sleep and so one of them ended up falling asleep at 4.30pm. Eek. And of course that made them grumpy and irritable.
Then one of them cried all the way through the beginning of the music lesson, so I sent him outside. I couldn't deal with it. (I think I need to clarify here that he was sent outside with two teachers and two other children. I realised just how bad that sounded then.) If there's one thing you need to understand, it's not getting in between Helen and a good music lesson. In the end it went fairly well and we did have fun with our multi-coloured dancing scarves, dancing to Brazilian music and shimmying around the classroom. But the damage was already done.
Then I had a few things to do and I didn't end up leaving work till 6.40 and the tubes were chokka and this annoying group of middle aged men took up loads of space, whilst the rest of us were crammed in. I felt like actually saying, "Are you enjoying all that space love? It must be nice." But it could have come out as something more along the lines of, "eff and geoff and f**k and s**ting morons" So I figured I should just keep my mouth shut.
And then......I get to the northern line platform and I wait 5 mins for a train to come and it's Edgeware, even though the one I missed by twenty seconds was also Edgeware. And then they say, "If you don't want to wait 9 minutes for the next High Barnet branch service......." And I'm thinking, "No I bloody well don't want to wait 9 minutes for a High Barnet branch, it's already 7.00pm, I should already be home."
So all in all, a shitty day and it's hardly gonna improve as the week progresses. To say my patience is wearing thin nowadays is a true understatement. It's like the elastic stretched to bursting in your pants and I don't see a way back. You can't re-elasticate elastic. (Wow, there;s something I've never written before. Ha ha.)
Anyhoo, no one wants to listen to me whinge on and on, so I'll spare you anymore angst and rage and I'll go feed myself. Hmmmmm, yesterday's leftovers and some terrible tele. whoop!
As always thanks for reading.
Have a great week. Don't let the January blues get you down.
Helen
Being short staffed, acting manager, having soapy water poured over my head, and finishing the day off with a poo in pants issue (not mine of course), have been just some of the highlights of a monstrously hideous day.
All I wanted was a nice final day as acting manager and a rousing start to my music lessons. But it all went tits up! The new children were.....interesting. If they weren't crying and refusing to do anything but be picked up by a teacher, they were climbing on tables, tipping all the toys out and pouring soapy water over my head.
Some of the children we couldn't get to sleep and so one of them ended up falling asleep at 4.30pm. Eek. And of course that made them grumpy and irritable.
Then one of them cried all the way through the beginning of the music lesson, so I sent him outside. I couldn't deal with it. (I think I need to clarify here that he was sent outside with two teachers and two other children. I realised just how bad that sounded then.) If there's one thing you need to understand, it's not getting in between Helen and a good music lesson. In the end it went fairly well and we did have fun with our multi-coloured dancing scarves, dancing to Brazilian music and shimmying around the classroom. But the damage was already done.
Then I had a few things to do and I didn't end up leaving work till 6.40 and the tubes were chokka and this annoying group of middle aged men took up loads of space, whilst the rest of us were crammed in. I felt like actually saying, "Are you enjoying all that space love? It must be nice." But it could have come out as something more along the lines of, "eff and geoff and f**k and s**ting morons" So I figured I should just keep my mouth shut.
And then......I get to the northern line platform and I wait 5 mins for a train to come and it's Edgeware, even though the one I missed by twenty seconds was also Edgeware. And then they say, "If you don't want to wait 9 minutes for the next High Barnet branch service......." And I'm thinking, "No I bloody well don't want to wait 9 minutes for a High Barnet branch, it's already 7.00pm, I should already be home."
So all in all, a shitty day and it's hardly gonna improve as the week progresses. To say my patience is wearing thin nowadays is a true understatement. It's like the elastic stretched to bursting in your pants and I don't see a way back. You can't re-elasticate elastic. (Wow, there;s something I've never written before. Ha ha.)
Anyhoo, no one wants to listen to me whinge on and on, so I'll spare you anymore angst and rage and I'll go feed myself. Hmmmmm, yesterday's leftovers and some terrible tele. whoop!
As always thanks for reading.
Have a great week. Don't let the January blues get you down.
Helen
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Playdoughisms
People say, there's never a dull moment when working with kids. They also say that Kids say the darnedest things. And whoever they are, they are right! Although they missed off the fact that they can also say and do the crudest things, without even knowing. Kids are natural born comedians. They can make you laugh without even realising they're funny, which makes them much more impressive than adult comedians. They don't even try and they can leave you in stitches. And two of my kids today would've beat Izzard in his prime.
Check this out:
So I'm sat at the playdough table with four children, two of which were off in their own world making cakes and thumping the dough with the rolling pins, and two of which were deep in conversation with myself. They had been very kindly making various cakes, biscuits, mince pies, chocolate filled snails and candy worms for me to (pretend) to eat, when all of a sudden I hear:
"This is my cock."
The laughter didn't quite come yet. It was more shock and a double take......did he actually just say that?
So I ignore it, not wanting to draw attention to it. But lo and behold there he goes again.
"This is my cock."
The giggling begins. Quiet at first.
"Helen. I made you this cock."
"Oh thanks (child's name) do I eat it?"
Now I wasn't being crude here. I just presumed as he'd been making things for me to eat, that he'd just invented something new.
"No Helen. It's a cock."
Now here, I really do have to take a breath as the laughter is coming harder.
"Okay (child's name). So what is a cock?"
"It's like a plate."
"Oh. Okay. Lovely."
Then of course, the child beside him cottons on to the fact that I'm finding this all hilarious and he starts with the questions.
"What is it?"
The first child replies, "It's a cock."
"What's a cock?"
And so on and so forth. Meanwhile another member of staff has come to join us at the table and is now also wetting herself laughing. The first child drops the cock and exclaims:
"Oh no. That was my cock."
To which the second child replies, "Your cock is funny."
At this point I'm actually close to tears and I just have to change the subject. So I ask them to start making me cakes again as I'm hungry. But no, Helen, it is not time for cakes. No. The time for cakes has passed.
The first child hands me a ball of playdough and says, "This is my bum."
I hand it back to him saying that I didn't want to hold his bum thank you very much. Then of course everything became about bums. "This is my bum. I made a bum. Ha ha. That's your bum." etc etc.
But the icing on the cake came a few seconds later when the second child produces his model.
"Helen, I've made a bum."
And this is when I completely loose it. He had made, well, essentially, meat and two vege. I'm not kidding. There was a penis and two balls. I nearly cried. I grabbed the camera and took a photo of it. That's definitely one to keep in the portfolio. Ha ha.
And after that it just dissolved into toilet humour. "I've made a fart. I've made a poo. You're holding my poo. Ha ha." I mean, how is toilet humour just instinctively imbued in men and when I say men I mean my kids who are 3 and 4. It's ridiculous, but bloody hilarious. Honestly, that kept us amused for ages.
I just needed to share that.
Well, next time you think about how sweet it is when children play with playdough, you might think a little differently. He he. My genius little comedians.
Well, that's all folks. Enjoy your Wednesday evening.
Helen
Check this out:
So I'm sat at the playdough table with four children, two of which were off in their own world making cakes and thumping the dough with the rolling pins, and two of which were deep in conversation with myself. They had been very kindly making various cakes, biscuits, mince pies, chocolate filled snails and candy worms for me to (pretend) to eat, when all of a sudden I hear:
"This is my cock."
The laughter didn't quite come yet. It was more shock and a double take......did he actually just say that?
So I ignore it, not wanting to draw attention to it. But lo and behold there he goes again.
"This is my cock."
The giggling begins. Quiet at first.
"Helen. I made you this cock."
"Oh thanks (child's name) do I eat it?"
Now I wasn't being crude here. I just presumed as he'd been making things for me to eat, that he'd just invented something new.
"No Helen. It's a cock."
Now here, I really do have to take a breath as the laughter is coming harder.
"Okay (child's name). So what is a cock?"
"It's like a plate."
"Oh. Okay. Lovely."
Then of course, the child beside him cottons on to the fact that I'm finding this all hilarious and he starts with the questions.
"What is it?"
The first child replies, "It's a cock."
"What's a cock?"
And so on and so forth. Meanwhile another member of staff has come to join us at the table and is now also wetting herself laughing. The first child drops the cock and exclaims:
"Oh no. That was my cock."
To which the second child replies, "Your cock is funny."
At this point I'm actually close to tears and I just have to change the subject. So I ask them to start making me cakes again as I'm hungry. But no, Helen, it is not time for cakes. No. The time for cakes has passed.
The first child hands me a ball of playdough and says, "This is my bum."
I hand it back to him saying that I didn't want to hold his bum thank you very much. Then of course everything became about bums. "This is my bum. I made a bum. Ha ha. That's your bum." etc etc.
But the icing on the cake came a few seconds later when the second child produces his model.
"Helen, I've made a bum."
And this is when I completely loose it. He had made, well, essentially, meat and two vege. I'm not kidding. There was a penis and two balls. I nearly cried. I grabbed the camera and took a photo of it. That's definitely one to keep in the portfolio. Ha ha.
And after that it just dissolved into toilet humour. "I've made a fart. I've made a poo. You're holding my poo. Ha ha." I mean, how is toilet humour just instinctively imbued in men and when I say men I mean my kids who are 3 and 4. It's ridiculous, but bloody hilarious. Honestly, that kept us amused for ages.
I just needed to share that.
Well, next time you think about how sweet it is when children play with playdough, you might think a little differently. He he. My genius little comedians.
Well, that's all folks. Enjoy your Wednesday evening.
Helen
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Italian rubber rings, the tamest graffiti and tiny pants.
Happy New Year all!
Dear lord, it's 2012. And I still think of the 90's of not being that long ago. Ha ha.
Well I had the pleasure of spending New Year in Italy with A and his family, which was awesome. I ate far too much, watched a slightly terrible film, watched some fireworks and played on an arcade Sonic the Hedgehog game until the wee hours.
I did come back with something though. Something I didn't arrive with. The Italian rubber ring. It pretty much comes as standard once you leave that place. You wear it under your clothes and it contains all the lasagne, gnocci, tigelle, rustica, pasta and gelato that you really shouldn't have eaten, but you did anyway 'cause you thought 'Fuck it. It's Christmas and I'm in Italy.' But sadly it does make jeans a little harder to fasten and causes cardigans and coats to gape a little at the buttons. Oooops.
Get your rock sugar, get your rock sugar baby.
A certain randomness befell us as we headed for a hot chocolate in Modena. The brown sugar packets all had old school rock bands on them. It was weird. I had a metaliica/ACDC sugar in mine and then took a couple more as souvenirs (sad, I know). They had The Sex Pistols, Thin Lizzy and The Ramones.
And now for the tamest graffiti ever:
It essentially read, pasta again? and had a love heart after it.
Only in Italy........... Ha ha
I couldn't decide if they were anti-pasta or just complaining a bit or I dunno, maybe they were being ironic. Still in the grand scheme of things, it was the tamest graffiti I've ever seen.
And now for a little complaint about the lack of winter weather. And I realise most people were rejoicing at this, but 12 degrees at New Year, in Italy and barely any snow on the mountains. That's darn right scary. And disappointing for those intending to ski. We had glorious sunshine and amazingly blue skies and whilst hats, gloves and scarves had to be worn, it was just so mild. I miss snow, especially at Christmas time.
And finally, there were some slightly tiny pants, thus the title. I won't go too much into it, but I will say this......They were a little tinier than I would normally go for and were slightly uncomfortable. But still I wore my new red panties on new year and so according to Italian legends (or those of the L family), I should have good luck for the year. I bloody hope so. They did ride up a little, into places they shouldn't. Ha ha. My word, I think I shared too much. Ah well. Don't be such prudes........
Happy Tuesday.
I hope those first days back at work weren't too bad. Mine was fine, still a few kids on holiday. Whoop!
If only every day we could just have 15 kids. My world would be such a nicer place.
Anyhoo, toodle-oo.
Helen
Dear lord, it's 2012. And I still think of the 90's of not being that long ago. Ha ha.
Well I had the pleasure of spending New Year in Italy with A and his family, which was awesome. I ate far too much, watched a slightly terrible film, watched some fireworks and played on an arcade Sonic the Hedgehog game until the wee hours.
I did come back with something though. Something I didn't arrive with. The Italian rubber ring. It pretty much comes as standard once you leave that place. You wear it under your clothes and it contains all the lasagne, gnocci, tigelle, rustica, pasta and gelato that you really shouldn't have eaten, but you did anyway 'cause you thought 'Fuck it. It's Christmas and I'm in Italy.' But sadly it does make jeans a little harder to fasten and causes cardigans and coats to gape a little at the buttons. Oooops.
Get your rock sugar, get your rock sugar baby.
A certain randomness befell us as we headed for a hot chocolate in Modena. The brown sugar packets all had old school rock bands on them. It was weird. I had a metaliica/ACDC sugar in mine and then took a couple more as souvenirs (sad, I know). They had The Sex Pistols, Thin Lizzy and The Ramones.
And now for the tamest graffiti ever:
It essentially read, pasta again? and had a love heart after it.
Only in Italy........... Ha ha
I couldn't decide if they were anti-pasta or just complaining a bit or I dunno, maybe they were being ironic. Still in the grand scheme of things, it was the tamest graffiti I've ever seen.
And now for a little complaint about the lack of winter weather. And I realise most people were rejoicing at this, but 12 degrees at New Year, in Italy and barely any snow on the mountains. That's darn right scary. And disappointing for those intending to ski. We had glorious sunshine and amazingly blue skies and whilst hats, gloves and scarves had to be worn, it was just so mild. I miss snow, especially at Christmas time.
And finally, there were some slightly tiny pants, thus the title. I won't go too much into it, but I will say this......They were a little tinier than I would normally go for and were slightly uncomfortable. But still I wore my new red panties on new year and so according to Italian legends (or those of the L family), I should have good luck for the year. I bloody hope so. They did ride up a little, into places they shouldn't. Ha ha. My word, I think I shared too much. Ah well. Don't be such prudes........
Happy Tuesday.
I hope those first days back at work weren't too bad. Mine was fine, still a few kids on holiday. Whoop!
If only every day we could just have 15 kids. My world would be such a nicer place.
Anyhoo, toodle-oo.
Helen
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)