Things that I am...

I am human. I do the whole bleeding thing when I am pricked. (No dirty pun intended...)

I am female. I can do the whole reproduction thing if I so choose.

I am a sister. Which means that I am the only one who is allowed to love and hate my sister at the same time. (Well maybe not the only one...)

I am a daughter. I can call my dad 'daddy' just for laughs, never for money. I can wear my emotions plainly around my mother.

I am a friend. This means that I have your back. Always. Even if I think you're being an idiot and a jerk I'll still have your back until you give up on me, not the other way round.

I am a nerd/geek/dork. I can argue the benefits of being an intergalactic smuggler with a heart of gold and I get things such as 'you're killing me, Smalls' typed on a tee shirt. Or 'Schrodinger's Cat, wanted Dead & Alive.'

This list can go on and on. I don't even know what prompted me to write it beside the fact that I was thinking late last night after playing a round of Resident Evil: The Darkside Chronicles on the Wii and wishing I had an Xbox. (Or a Playstation - I'm not gamist.) What that has to do with me listing what I am I have no idea.

Well, I guess I could say that these ideas come from me finishing my first term of teaching. There were some amazing highs and twice the amount of lows. At least once a week I would come home feeling utterly defeated. Now, I may not have battled full on depression but I have moments where I feel life is so utterly pointless and having those once a week because of something a student did or didn't do was hard.

What was even harder was the fact that many of these students have no real identity, idea or clue as to who they are and what they're capable of. They laugh at me for being a geek (which I don't give a frak about because I am a geek.) and then they tease someone else for being different when all I can see are a bunch of young minds going to waste because they cannot see what is in front of them.

Oh, and the language, please don't get me started on the language. I swear occasionally but it isn't my second language, nor is it my third. But the way that some of these kids talk...it's disgusting.

But I am going back next term. And, for most of them, it will be the first time that they've had the same English teacher for two terms in a row. I have a lot of things that I could say about that but I am a semi-logical person and I realise that there is no point. I can't change what has happened to them I can only try to change what will.

And, to end on a lighter note, I have been listening to this amazing talent for the last two days and thought I would share.

And this:

Hope you enjoy and hope you are having a good weekend.

When I yell I sound like...

...A cat being strangled. It isn't fun to listen to and it sure isn't fun to do but that is beside the point.

Today I'd like to do a little segment called 'Things I've Learned'. For those of you playing at home the simple rules are to list things (normally obvious things) that you have learned recently. So, here goes my list for today.

1. When filling up the car either enter a set amount or make sure you read the right gauge while free-filling. In other words, litres are different to dollars. I stupidly thought I was reading the dollar sign and stopped when it got to 30. Oddly enough, it was the litres sign. $61.77 dollars later. 
2. Teenagers are a lot more naive in some contexts than they are in others. In other words - yes, teachers understand pig Latin and, no, you cannot swear in pig Latin. 
3. When setting the electric fence, make sure it's off before you move it. (This also applies to peeing on an electric fence...no mean feat for a female...)
4. When trying on clothes, ensure the door is shut, latched, barricaded - just to avoid any mishaps. 
5. When teaching - if you've lost the lesson plan...fake it. 

Anyway, my weekend was hectic but I did manage to watch Sunday on TV1 which was all about 9/11 ( 11.09 depending on where you live in the world.) As I sat there watching the familiar scenes I found myself feeling upset that people have the capability to hurt each other that way. There is no excuse for that.

I have always tried to see the good in people. Admittedly, for some people their 'good' might be buried a little deeper than usual. Yet, I find it terrible that we have the ability to inflict pain in so many different ways. I know that there are people out there who see the world in black and white and that is part of the reason I went into teaching - to challenge people to think differently.

Sorry, that got a little heavy. What I mean to say is that my heart goes out to every person who has lost someone they love - be it on 9/11 or  any time.

I'm babbling. So to curb my written diarrhea I shall finish here.

Hope everyone had a super weekend. I'm off to mark some essays.

Breaking Elbows...

Let's take a trip down memory lane...well it is my memory lane and it isn't so much a trip as it is me rushing head first into a world of pain.

One lunch time when I was around 10 or 11 (the details are a little fuzzy from time to time) we were doing a gymnastics session so we had dragged out the vaulting horse, mats and all that stuff. Some of my more co-ordinated friends were doing some impressive things on the vault and I was watching on, tinged slightly with the green haze of jealousy. (I've mentioned how uncoordinated I am, right?) Anyway, one of my more athletic friends managed to convince me to attempt a tricky vault. There was something about a handstand and round off or something equally as stupid or insane.

So, I stand in line, trying to push away my nerves when my turn rolls around. Taking a deep breath I run at that vaulting horse like it is the only thing in the world. That is the last thing I remember until my friend starts screaming and I realise that I am sitting on the ground with the vault at my back. I grin for a moment until I realise that my friend is screaming the same thing over and over again.

"Your arm, your arm."

At first I thought she'd just become jealous of my mad skills until I realise that, although my right arm is where it should be my left arm definitely isn't. Pretty soon my screams are joining in with my friends as I realise that my left hand is still holding onto the edge of the vault.

After several minutes the teacher on duty wanders over and takes in the scene calmly. She kneels next to me and tells me not to panic and that I've just dislocated my arm and she'll put it back into place. Being so young, I didn't question what she did next. She gripped my wrist and wrenched my arm around. I can't remember exactly what happened next because the pain was pretty intense. I might have called her a rather nasty word but my focus remained on my arm, which now hung limply from the elbow socket place. Every time I moved bolts of agony shot up my arm until I realised that I had to grip my wrist to stop the grating of bone against bone.

My teacher then did what any normal teacher would do. She puts me in a dark room and tells me to calm down. So, picture this, I'm alone, gripping my wrist for dear life, snot and tears mixing as they race down my face. Half an hour goes by and suddenly my mum storms in, takes one look at my arm and promptly realises that it is broken.

My mum rushes me into hospital where I am kept in the waiting room for three hours before being shuffled into surgery. The next day I'm out with two metal pins holding my elbow together along with a massive cast from fingertip to shoulder. Did I mention it was summer as well?

This is just one of many random childhood traumas which goes some way to explaining the way I am. Plus, I'm tired today and didn't have a clue what to write about.

I apologise in advance for bad grammar and spelling.

Hope you are all having a great evening/day/morning