When humanity looks good

Sometimes in teaching there are days where you really wonder why you are doing this job that you’re doing. The thoughts usually come on those days where you’re stuck working through bureaucratic stuff and admin over your normal load of work, when you have extra curriculuar activities on the weekend, when you get your pay check (haha couldn’t resist) and when you’re being chagrined by a parent. Those are the days when you go home, pour yourself a really big glass of wine and think about how green, lush and juicy is the grass is on the other side of the fence. Most teachers go through it at some stage or another. We’re starting to think of it as the 5 year itch here. It’s around year 5 when things get very difficult to handle and you think about chucking it in.

Then again, you have other days where you wonder how anyone could possibly put up with paper pushing and the horror of horrors ADULTS in the workplace. Boooooring. Kids are pretty awesome even though they will drive you completely crazy. Like Prin said when I had a conversation with her about teaching the other day they’re just so entertaining!. It’s true, you work your arse off but there’s a lot of cool stuff that happens.

In order to teach children you need to absolutely adore them. There’s no way around it. You can’t be the best teacher in the world if you don’t like kids because if you don’t the whole game is a mind fuck. I don’t mean just thinking they’re cute, but to just adore how they function and think. Would you be friends with a kid? If not because duh, they’re a kid – then teaching is not for you, you don’t get it. You’re not seeing them as people who are ‘as human and worthy as you’ – ’cause they are, you know.

I know that I’d have a difficult time teaching teenagers. I don’t see their awesomeness though I’m so glad that there are good teachers out there that do see those things about them. High school teaching for me? No thanks!

Even though there are days when you want to chuck it in, there are other days where life is good

Some kids are a scream, like Maddie who is 8 today and loves old fashioned television show like Little House on the Prairie and likes to smudge oil pastel on her nose just so she can wash it off again.

There’s Alex who is 7 and in his imagination has devised a shoe that has a funnel attached that will shoot out a continuous stream of Easter Eggs during the Easter break. He loves telling me about it.

And Cal who is in grade 6 now, who still bumps into all the furniture just like he did in grade 2, has conversations with inanimate objects and does Montgomery Burns impressions and trips over his own feet, gets up and asks if he’s still my favourite! (The cheek!)

And Jordan who just learned to spell shoe I know! I know! It’s S. H. O….. um…O? awwwwww I knew it yesterday!

Who could forget when Ryan finally was able to write a sentence, it was like he discovered the world!

I just adore Tom (7) who is like Denis the Menace – he will drive you completely round the twist and just when you think you’re about to explode he’ll come up and just beam at you and say ‘I love you’ (so..you know you just have to forgive him!).

Also, who could forget the dance boys, who through their willingness to give up lunchtimes have created a boy dance revolution at the school!

The grade 1/2 girls always bring a smile to my face with funny statements like: ‘I love your shoes’, “I love your hair”, “I’m going to be an artist/prime minister when I grow up”.

And when you make a fake mistake on the board and say Oh No! What should I do if I make a mistake? hmmm let me think! they take you literally and tell you not to be so hard on yourself and that you’re still just great even if you do make mistakes sometimes!

And there are endless conversations about funny innocent little things they think about.

On those good days – it’s a pleasure, really.

Humanity looks good from the middle of the classroom.

It looks promising.

the operation

The One About The Pill

I woke to the grand news that the contraceptive ring was finally going to be on sale in Australia. Personally um..I don’t quite understand where exactly it’s going to reside, how it interferes with sex and tampons and does it disolve or does one have to somehow fish it out after three weeks?

Anyway, while women rejoice their heads off because we don’t have to take a pill everyday if we don’t wanna, I wonder why the HELL is it is always us women who have to have OUR hormones fucked around with? The last time I checked it takes two to make a baby – one of which happens to make sperm and have a penis. Why can’t men have their testosterone levels altered to the point where they don’t produce sperm and get headaches, moody and don’t function normally? Why should we women have our hormone levels altered to the point where we don’t release eggs and where our periods aren’t actually periods? One may argue that if women don’t want to get pregnant then women should take care of it – but in the same vein if men don’t want the babies shouldn’t men take ‘care of things’ too?

I’m on the pill (obviously not for tumbleweed reasons) but I wonder what the fuck it’s doing to my body sometimes. Women go on the pill for a whole host of hormonal reasons, some of which have nothing to do with pregnancy and surely doctors prescribe the pill to treat a number of female related ailments, but why? Of course, I know the reasons why – but culturally why is it desirable for women to alter their hormones so dramatically when things go wrong? Are we so imperfect as we are? Would men even TAKE a male contraceptive pill? Would women trust them to?

I’m lost behind the words I’ll never find

Weekend of sniffles has developed into a full blown cold. I woke too late to justify ringing in so despite reservations I went on in to work. Big mistake. Trying to read the roll while you’re tearing up and blowing your nose isn’t all that easy. Attempting to create an art display that isn’t wonky when your brain is hazy isn’t a sinch either. Of course, in order to commiserate with the teary eyes and blowy nose my chin has sprouted a huge zit the size of Mt Kosciusko. Nice, thanks.

As I mentioned, my weekend was filled with mostly nothingness. I snuggled under the covers to watch Singles – you know, that old Cameron Crowe movie. I love this movie. For pretty much everything after and including Jerry Maguire Cameron Crowe went to shitsville and stayed there – but before that, he was a God.

Basically Singles chronicles the daily happenings of a group of 20 somethings that live in a block of single apartments – and hey, they’re all single and looking for love! Hence; Singles.

It’s a quirky sort of movie – a nod to the Seattle grunge music scene as much as it is to an exploration of single life.

There is a few things I really about this movie:
1) Seasons – Chris Cornell

This was probably the first song of Chris Cornell I had heard where he didn’t spend some part of the song screaming. For the record, I think that he has one of the best screaming voices ever. I adore it. But this song – so melancholy, so sweet, so..true.

2) This photograph by Doisneau. One character remarks that he thought love should be like that photo. Oblivion. I don’t know about that but I adore the photo and I do love the sentiment.

3) Questions for you, because I’m curious, because I really don’t know what to think myself..

Do you think you can ever go back to a former love? Does anyone ever break up for the wrong reasons or is the breakup itself a reason never to go back (ie: if you break up then even if it’s subconscious you did it for a true reason)?

Can love happen from making a list and ticking it off (a la RSVP.com.au etc)?

Does love happen from a spark, a connection, a something that tells you – this is something special here or can it just happen over time..like building a house brick by brick?

Is playing hard to get for girls the way to go in order to get your guy, or is that just high school immature stuff? How hard is playing too hard?

Would you ever cut in on a friend’s love interest or ex?

human vs doll

(background image – Zara Wood)

a memory

Sometimes songs just remind you of certain things. I happened to hear it on the radio the other day and was almost knocked for a six by the flash of memories.

This one reminds me of summer. Sitting in the back seat on a warm day (it would have been Sunday – it was always Sunday), forehead against the window and feeling the vibrations of the wheels against the road travel up into my body. Wide eyes waiting to see the big Coca Cola billboard. Parents fighting in the front seat and bro with feet barely touching the floor next to me.

Then, at the beach, lying under a tree (under the golden leaf-filtered sunlight). Watching the little Italian men play Bocce – whooping at every score. Playing in the waves while dad watched from the shore, a floppy hat on his head. Begging to be allowed to go to a nearby playground where we twisted ourselves up on the swing and then let go suddenly only to twirl downwards, shrieking with glee. Enjoying a light dinner under the trees, swatting at the flies, scratching away at the tickles of grass under our legs. Lazily watching the sun set over the ocean, the cool breeze shivering against our tightening sunburns. Helping to carry the esky back to the car and driving home, head pressed against the window.

That’s what this song reminds me of.

Johnny and Mary – Robert Palmer

…running around trying to find certainty

Well I was tagged by the lovely Steph to write a list of 10 ‘when I was a kid’ things.

* When I was a kid I used to stand on our balcony and shout “I love you and I want to marry you” over the fence and to the boy next door. I did it almost every day – how’s that for OMG stalker? He was about 10 years older than me and mortified by my bravado. Looking back, probably not the wisest of crushes for a 5 year old.

* When I was a kid I’d make my dad proper coffee (percolated) and a slice of toast and bring it to him in bed every Sunday (mum worked on Sunday). I just loved doing that.

* When I was a kid I would beg my parents for things like boxes, buttons, real paints, paintbrushes, glue, glitter, coloured paper etc so that I could make things. I loved making things like houses for my dolls and cash registers out of cereal boxes. I wanted a doll house so much but they were too expensive, so I made my own (it was a bit crappy).

* When I was a kid I made myself a Wonder Woman outfit. I found this great shiny silver (or maybe it was gold..) cardboard in the cupboard and I made myself some those bracelets and a wonder woman crown. My skipping rope was a lasso and I wore my blue bathers and paraded around. Boy did I love Wonder Woman!

* When I was a kid I got into a standoff with another girl at kindergarten. I had brought a perfume bottle from home for show and tell (as ya do) and one of the other kids lied and said that it was hers and TOOK IT! I was not impressed with that at all. I hate liars. So I took the bottle back and then we had this fight in the bathroom which resulted in me throwing the lid of the bottle at her head. It hit target and she started crying so I ran and hid under the tables in the main room. I had to be coaxed out with soothing words. I remember thinking I’m never going to come out from under here ever again. I’m going to live here. I don’t think I’ve ever been so traumatised by my own actions in my whole life! The next day for the first time ever, I didn’t want to go to Kindy.

* When I was a kid I had a best friend called Peg. We wanted to be twins badly so we decided to dress exactly the same way everyday. We planned our outfits down to the crimped big 80s hair. No one was ever fooled except our grade 5 teacher Mrs Hurt (great name for a teacher) who always got confused by our awesome identicalness (made up word).

* When I was a kid and someone I didn’t know very well came to visit our house I’d go and hide behind the couch and just stay there all scrunched up in a little human ball. I remember being quite a feisty little one but after about 5 or 6 I got scared of people and I got shy.

* When I was a kid my cousin MT had a 21st dress up birthday party. I was about 9 years old. I dressed up as a sailor girl. I had a white sailor hat with (the ends turned up). That became my favourite hat and I wore it everywhere. Didn’t do so much for keeping the sun off, but it was so trendy!

* When I was a kid I couldn’t stand to see people being bullied – still can’t. I especially couldn’t stand this happening to my little brother. People who are cruel to others/make fun of others are real pieces of work. Despite being quite painfully shy as a kid, once I heard little bro was being bullied by one of the mean boys in my grade I went right up and confronted him by yelling my head off in his face. I was so angry! He was real nice to my brother after that. Grr..it still makes me mad actually. Recently Bro told me about something not quite right that someone at his work did to him. Bro is can certainly handle himself but all I want to do is go right down there and kick the shit out of someone.

* When I was a kid I had “mishaps” in the kitchen. I loved the idea of cooking but I never could get it quite right. I’d always leave the oven on and forget there was something in there. Once I left a cake in the oven on for 2 and a half hours while I went outside and played! The kitchen was filled with black smoke when I returned. oops.

I tag anyone who wants to do it.

Lately I’ve been feeling a little contemplative and just ..I don’t know how to describe the feeling. Like something is not quite right. I feel like the real me has gone on holidays and left behind a hazy not so static me. I feel blurry around the edges, like a water colour painting…

I feel like I’m about to be forgotten. Not yet..just an almost forgotten myth.

You treat me badly, I love you madly

I think I had a lucky childhood, musically speaking. I had a great music teacher in primary school. In grade 5/6 choir we sang collections of songs from The Beach Boys, Smokey Robinson, Bob Dylan, The Supremes, Elvis, The Beatles, Leslie Gore, Motown, Peter Allen, The Easybeats as well as many contemporary artists. We danced to Broadway songs alongside Madonna songs. We performed in musicals where The Saints stood against Cliff Richard and we learnt to deconstruct simple classical pieces.

I had a thorough introduction to certain types of music which in turn inspired me to look further into new music (or old music, as it may be). We didn’t get marks in our music classes – this was the 80s after all, we got a one word comment “good”, “excellent” …whatever. It didn’t matter – it changed my life. I learned a lot about music and I learned a lot about myself too. I wonder what I would be like if I hadn’t had that introduction? I wonder if I would love music as much as I do. I guess it’s hard to say – but I feel a bit sorry for the people that didn’t get the music education that I had at school. I went into high school knowing songs that my peers had no idea about. I couldn’t believe they hadn’t heard about Motown or punk or Cat Stevens. I felt like I had been let in on a secret.

I’ve spent a lot of time since then wondering about music for future generations. The radio doesn’t really play the old stuff anymore and the new stuff – well, let’s be honest, sometimes it’s just a bit on the scary side. These days kids come to me asking whether I’ve heard this or that current song – they tell me the name of the song and I realise it’s a remake of something I would have listened to when I was a teenager or kid. I remember the original instead. Sure kid, I’ve heard it – about 15 years ago, you know in the dark ages. I have been bothered by the thought that the originals will be forgotten and being a big fan of old time music I really don’t want that to happen. It’s not that I reject remakes of songs. I’ve been worried that all that history behind the original will be swept away under the plastic sounding songs of today. Maybe the kids of today will go into adulthood not realising that the music they listened to as a kid had context and history.

I’ve been thinking about this for a while and come to the conclusion that perhaps I’m overreacting with this train of thought. I might be a fuddy duddy and not giving the kids of today enough credit. You see, there is a deep dark secret that I hold too:

I was once that kid who listened to remakes and thought they were the originals! Didn’t we all?

I fell in love with the remakes but as I grew up, I looked back, discovered the old stories of songs I once thought were new. Fell in love with the classics. Locomotion was not really a Kylie Minogue original! Carl Perkins did Blue Suede Shoes first! Songs have history, who knew?

This, in a roundabout way – takes me to my Musical Monday. Smokey Robinson.

I was introduced to Smokey Robinson through a dubious vehicle. Some of you might remember this one. I certainly do and it is with great glee that I found it again after all these years. I thought it was so funny when I first saw it. I had no idea who Smokey Robinson was back then. I never made the connection until years later. Go have a look for yourself and see if you remember the clip too. I never looked at the letter U in the same way again.

Smokey Robinson on Sesame Street

Then, a while later we sang Tracks of my Tears in our grade 6 school musical. I had no idea who sang it. I didn’t care until years further down the track.

Then as a very impressionable tween and like other girls my age I fell under the spell of probably the world’s WORST boy band in living history – New Kids on The Block. They did a cover of Oooh Baby, Baby in a live show I happened to catch on TV. Again, loved the song, but didn’t care who sang it originally. In fact I had no idea it wasn’t an NKOTB song!

Years later, it clicked. I came across songs like I Second that Emotion and Tears of a Clown and thought I had discovered SR&TM. It wasn’t until then that I recognised the pattern of Smokey Robinson songs that had been invading my childhood and teen years without me even knowing it! I went back and re-discovered (discovered) the originals. The moment I heard the original of Ooh Baby Baby was a real eye opener for me. All my worlds collided. It took me a few years but I finally got it. Music existed before I did. It had a core, history, soul, context, life and a power beyond which I gave it. That made me feel small – as it should.

The point is. Don’t panic! I think, maybe, these kids of today might eventually click on too. Maybe in 20 years they’ll look back and discover just how good those classics are. They’ve just got to. Discovering you’re not the center of the universe is part of growing up, after all.

In the meanwhile, while we wait for that big bombshell to drop – here’s some of the good stuff. Two of my personal favourites from Smokey Robinson and The Miracles.

You’ve Really Got a Hold On Me

Oooh Baby, Baby

breakfast

Usually on Sunday morning I go out for breakfast (well by the time it happens, it’s actually closer to lunch, but who’s counting the minutes anyway, punk?). Since I didn’t do that this morning I decided to make myself breakfast. That is… make something that wasn’t cornflakes. And yes, I DO count cornflakes as cooking, you got a problem with that? I figured, eggs florentine was the go – mostly because that’s what I usually have if I’m going out for breaky, also it looked like a harmless meal to make. Bit of egg – more egg on top..bit of muffin…bit or spinach. Easy peasy, Japanesey.

WRONG. HARD! HARD! VERY FUCKING HARD!

I guess my first problem was not actually ever having made a Hollandaise sauce in my life – so I looked it up on the old internet on a site called “reluctant gourmet” and discovered that apparently this sauce is quite a difficult one to master. Pshhhhh! How difficult can it really be to whisk a few egg yolks together? Then as I kept reading I realised that it did actually sound a bit hard. I mean, they had so many specifications like ‘make sure the water is simmering not boiling’ and that ‘the purpose of whisking was not to aerate but to something-something’ (lost track a bit). Meh I hate wordy presidential speeches disguised as recipes, so I figured that jumping in feet first would be the way to go. Best not to get bogged down in the specifics of it all.

About half way through desperately trying NOT to aerate the egg yolks and holding a pan of hot butter ready to pour into the mixture my eyes fell upon the part of the recipe that confused me

as you near the milk solids, be at your most diligent not to add too much as the hollandaise is more likely to split at this stage.

HUH?

My eyes go back up to the ingredients. No mention of milk solids there. Was this a trick? A typo? What the fuck is a milk solid anyway? Isn’t solid milk a cow? What’s cows got to do with it? Why are they mentioning cows all of a sudden? Here, my friends is where I started to panic. Then I read the word Sabayon and lost it. SABAYON? What the fuck? I’m still confused about where I’m going to find a fucking cow in suburbia and reluctant gourmet brings out the Sabayon big guns. The whole thing got me so flustered that my hand “slipped” and the oh so important “steady thin stream” of hot butter turned into a farking waterfall right into the goddamn Sabayon and the hollandaise started to split. The split, according to reluctant gourmet is the most dreaded of all kitchen terms to a chef. Well, THANK YOU!

I looked down at my dreaded split Hollandaise sauce and decided that I was going to whisk the shit out of it and keep on going anyway! I am a trooper dammit and I want eggs florentine for breakfast. I am the breakfast MASTER! The excessive whisking was burning the hell out of my biceps but the mixture was beginning to gel. Ha! I knew then I didn’t need reluctant gourmet telling me what to do. Sabayon my ARSE!

It looked okay so I decided to concentrate on the egg poaching instead. The problem was that I’d never actually poached an egg (successfully) before either. So back to the internet where I found a site that informed me that this was basically a foolproof recipe and reading over it I realised that I could do the gently floating the egg in the water thing. It WAS kind of easy. The only problem was that I had forgotten about my muffins. They needed to be toasted. It took a little while to get that done and then I realised that after cooking spinach it must be strained…so I did that. Meanwhile the eggs have been in the fucking water for so long they’ve turned completely hard. Then I look down at the Hollandaise and it had split again..

Muffin with soggy spinach, hard boiled egg and split Hollandaise! Yuuuuuuuuuum.

Next week, I’m going out for breakfast!

clockwatching. I hate those days