Monthly Archives: January 2006
Yeah. The kids are much easier to control than the kids at the other school. Much easier. That would be why I would currently like to cut a swathe through Year 9.
Very interesting- Taking 3D data (for example from a game) and transforming that data into a 3D object using a 3D printer: OGLE: The OpenGLExtractor
I attended a talk today given by Russell Prue of Anderton Tiger. Actually quite good- interesting, engaging, fun. All about ICT in the classroom. I actually agreed with what he was saying (a rarity with ICT people)- That interactive whiteboards (IWB’s) are passe and that (wireless) tablet PCs are the way forward due to their flexibility of use and in movement. He also talked about JasJars– Pocket PCs used at the moment with Primary school kids.
As art teachers we tend to move about the classroom space a lot more than most other subject teachers. I think art is the subject that is least suited to a lot of ICT products- a subject that does not do well with ICT, because a lot of products/software are really very badly thought out. It’s sort of assumed that because art is a visual subject then ICT will be useful.
IWB’s are good for displaying work large scale and to a large group of people, but other than that the interactive part of them is really quite poor. Useful for other subjects with higher written content eg history, English etc. as you can stick up all the things you would usually write out longhand on a chalkboard. Saves time and is adaptable. It’s not like you can use Photoshop on it. Very gimmicky.
Anyway, the talk was really very good. He was independant too, which being of such a cynical nature I appreciated. He must do alright out of the ICT Evangelism- His brand new Bentley with the personalised plate was sitting out in the car park.
In other non-news, the Monster is moving to Australia. I don’t know when, or for how long. I think it’s a bit of an overreaction to have to move to another hemisphere to get away from me, but needs must. Bit sad when I heard and i’ll be sad when he goes, but he’s in a different life to mine (young professional) so I guess it’s to be expected.
If it wasn’t moving away to Oz it would have been to somewhere else, or one of those hitched/knocked up announcements. Eugh to [edited for far too cutting a comment 2:52am]. Eugh again. I wonder if he’ll have to sell his car? That would make him sad I am sure. I hope he remembers to take the tiny Patrick Star statue out- I’d look after him.
I was always going to be the one left behind, whether it be geographically or relationship-wise due to my permanent bit-on-the-side status. Such a high status. He contacts me about every 3 months anyway, so who knows, if he ever looks me up when he gets back I might actually have cemented my superior status with a proper job. I’m superior already of course, but you know, have official confirmation of worthyness. At least I will have a proper excuse for using my webcam (if he wants to speak to me, that is).
I’ll still be sad when he leaves, and i’ll miss him.
Back to delightfully pointless conversations with MW#1 about the benefits or otherwise of vaginal fluid as a facial care product.
MW#1 and Monster are both lovely but sometimes I have to wonder what the point is of all my male friendships. I mean, why do I have so many male friends? Why am I always friends with them and they never see me as a potential partner? Monster will always have a place in my heart and I hold him dear. However, I have to ask why I was always a bit-on-the-side? Maybe he was just not that into me…
There never has to be a point to my friendships, but maybe i’m too open about certain things, too giving. I don’t know. I’m just tired and my weekend has not refreshed me so I’m back to feeling down. Eugh.
Ode to Jimmy Shaker
Jimmy – James – De-tec-tive Shaker / Skin so Pale / Eyes so blue / That blood aerosol is really quite beguiling / A livid halo memorialised on stone / Today / Just might be / Jimmy Shaker Day
Bizarro. There was a private railway (The London Necropolis Railway) that ran before the Second World War that carried only funeral trains to a local cemetary.
The Cemetery Railway
Mmmmm. 1956 Cadillac Eldorado Brougham Town Car.
From an upcoming auction at RM Auctions– the place that recently sold the James Bond DB7. Seriously gorgeous and seriously expensive cars.
A lie in and I feel better. I also fit into my evil fairy dress. Score.
I think I needed an evening catching up, drinking and bitching with former work colleagues who I hadn’t seen in months. Apparently I looked “good” and “pretty” and have a nice mouth. I laughed no end. I also needed a 3 egg fried sandwich, a mug of tea and a notice of appreciation (however sarcastic) from MW#1 (who is officially and deservedly promoted). Not that I need that- Coming from a praise-lite environment it was just appreciated.
The creative force behind the Audi A6 advert: Pleix. Vitalic sound with flying dogs: Birds.mov
My first lesson on my own and in my new school and taken with an hour’s notice went really well. Pleased. Hopefully a long sleep and a lounge about will set me bang to rights.
I’ve started to have noticable periods of feeling sad. Stupid times like when I drive my car, listening to a lecture or when I’m cooking dinner. I hope the melancholia is due to tiredness and no other reason- I diagnose this as Doctor Monky. I’ve been feeling excellent- generally pleased and happy. I mean, not all the time of course (I would be either robotic or high) but I have just felt content with life.
Outwardly of course, I appear my usual buoyant self and I still feel good for the majority of my time; it’s just that I’ve started to notice the patches.
I think too much of the small delights of men- The fun and frustration of attempting to beat them up (and their amusment), the way they can focus their attention on you and make the rest of the world disappear. You might have spent the last 15 minutes attempting to put them in a headlock, spitting in their faces, insulting them and biting their legs (and being made furious in the process) but then they pull you close and you feel small and protected. So d-o-r-k-y.
I just need some quality sleep. Curl up with Patrick and tell him how great he is. That sort of thing.
Gotta stay lovely, happy and intellegent… Fabulous.
Forgetting to wear a bra to school is not a good thing. I am thankful for my vest and the gift of files and registers to carry in front of me. Then I thank genetics and diet that I do not have Drew Barrymore issues. Hooray for handfuls.
Of course, sometimes I only realise when I get home. Perky.
Yay. Kitten won. Aw, and he looks so cute with a wonky tie.
I haven’t seen her in much (okay, I’ve seen her in The Mummy films (Bikini fight!) and About A Boy), but looking at the Golden Globes coverage I am reminded that Rachel Weisz is great. She’s a fine actress, is gorgeous and seems like a decent individual. I love that she has totally teh hawt real body, replete with all the imperfections (ie flab) that the rest of Hollywood choose to vomit out of their systems.
However- Neil Morrissey?
Okay, you’re currently engaged to a cool, interesting man and you’re expecting together. But seriously- What were you thinking?
I hope Kitten wins. Not that he cares, but I think he could do with some praise. He’s looking a little too pale in the interesting department
Ooh, and Eric Bana was looking pretty hot on the red carpet too. I love awards season- lots of previously forgotten eye candy, both good- Eric, George, and bad- Johnny D looking not so hot.
Yes, so it’s the predictable post-Damo post. Never mind the quality of what I watched (High)- I have now gone into full post-exposure spazz-out mode to find information and pictures pictures pictures of the gorgeous man.
Pictures I found, but I also found this nice article from the Times on what men who know how to charm the pants off a gal do to get their prize…
DAMIAN LEWIS, 34, FILM ACTOR
“I like that 1950s Cary Grant North by Northwest look, a slim cut,” says the flame-haired fox. “My fall-back dating outfit is more understated. I wouldn’t want to scare anyone off. If I’m going on a really smart date, it’s jeans, shirt and jacket – a bit eurotrashy. I always wear my shirt too unbuttoned. It’s a weakness of mine.
“I’m vain, so I like to look all right when I’m going out. I try not to have too many mirrors in the house,” he laughs, “because I tend to get stuck. Anyone who is the focus of attention is susceptible to that. I love being a redhead. Everyone should go out with a boy with red hair once – we all want the orange cream in a box of chocolates.
“I can be spontaneous with the right person. I like to go on romantic holidays in Europe, driving through France or Italy in my silver Mazda MX5 sports car with the roof down. ‘Dates’ are to be avoided. You have to make it not seem like a date by starting at lunch or in the afternoon. I’d go to a gallery or go on a boat down the Thames: something fun, rather than sitting across a table. My dream woman is funny and intelligent. She also needs to have sparkly, smiling eyes. I would never impose a dress code on a woman, but I like Vivienne Westwood. Punk meets Moulin Rouge! – that’s sexy.”
God, I think i’m in love…
He’s like my perfect man, apart from the manwhoring, currently attatched status (silly Damo) and that fact that I will never meet him… Charming the pants off the Monky would be an arduous task indeed. I’m sure he’d appreciate the challenge.
Now all I have to do is find someone I actually know who will do all of the above with me. I don’t like orange creams anyway…
This is really cool: 01.10.2006 – Public to look for dust grains in Stardust detectors
“Astronomy buffs who jumped at the chance to use their home computers in the SETI@home search for intelligent life in the universe will soon be able to join an Internet-based search for dust grains originating from stars millions of light years away.
In a new project called Stardust@home, University of California, Berkeley, researchers will invite Internet users to help them search for a few dozen submicroscopic grains of interstellar dust captured by NASA’s Stardust spacecraft and due to return to Earth in January 2006.”
I took back the trousers I purchased earlier in the week because they are now too big. The post-Christmas hormonal spread is reducing in impact. Hooray.
Now, I am not exactly a large individual so people always tell me to shutthefuckup if I make any comment about my size. The thing is, I can feel my fatness, it’s not like I am whining or making it up. I poke myself and there’s more to poke. More overhang. Just ‘cos I don’t dress to “show my form” very often (I have a bit of a fear) I can hide the flab I have quite effectively. That means people refuse to believe me when I comment on overhang. It’s there, trust me. If you care to look. I’m never going to be waif-like– I just hide it well.
Why can’t it all go to my boobs? A little extra padding would be nice. Actually, I wish some would migrate to my arse. I get sore sitting for long periods of time as my backside seems to lack padding on the actual bottom part but have spare on the sides. It’s too damed flat for comfort. Anyway.
Jarhead was very prettily shot. Nice colours- the black ash of a bomb strike against the pale desert sand, the orange arc of burning oil wells across sand dunes. I don’t know whether Gyllenhaal is a great actor but I think that Peter Sarsgaard may be a future great. Maybe that’s because he looks and sounds like a young John Malkovich. Spooky.
I’ve seen him before in The Salton Sea but nowt else but he impressed me in both films- In Salton with his naive exuberance and in Jarhead with his bound-up calm intensity. Jarhead was good overall, and had its moments, but there wasn’t anything really new about it and it didn’t tell me anything new. Not that a film has to tell new stories every time or illuminate something for me. It just wasn’t mind-blowing. But this isn’t a bad thing. My mind doesn’t need to be blown to enjoy itsself; a little considered attention is all it takes.
A bad thing about Jarhead- Eye candy. Lots of skin. Gah. Mind turns over. I need to find me a leg-man who likes a little intellectual sparring, can put up with a bit of mess and loving a girl who is a bit soft around the middle. My Mother told me over Christmas “It’s about time” I got myself someone, and in quite a forceful manner. If only it was that easy, Mum. My only current aquaintance is a manwhore. Lovely though he is I believe I am interesting enough and good enough to demand loyalty. So there’a a bit of a problem.
Mind you, my only real problem is with my relatives asking why I don’t have anyone. Being alone doesn’t bother me 95% of the time but it does get to me when others ask “What’s wrong with you?” I mean, shutthefuckup.
Food, copius wine and (watching) wrestling courtesy of MW#2. I am thinking of promoting him to the lead spot. For services to (Monky)womankind, like.
We had a nice discussion about teabagging (NSFW). Upon staring at me it was determined that my forehead would make a fine platform for penile display and my mouth looks rather pleasing. I said that teabagging was testicle display against skin, MW#2/1 said it was the intake into the buccal cavity of said gonads. It all got quite heated. Yeah, he’s so my bitch.
As MW#2/1’s finally realised that life as a young professional is soulless and unworthy he’s decided to begin a new career as a professional wrestler. We’ve decided that the best gimmick for me as his valet is the sweet and innocent look hiding a proper ability for crippling.
I think the geeky secretary look would be all good- screaming for my man at the apron and cussing out his opponent; being all constrained in my pencil skirt before… oh no… that’s not a pencil skirt… it’s a cunningly concealed pair of culottes!!! And she’s locked in the figure four! Surely he must tap out now…
Also MW#2/1 said i’m not waif-like anymore. I’m average. Am so crushed.
“…Oh yeah, i’m so waif-like”
“You’re not so waif-like anymore”
“I know, i’m fat at the moment”
“Fat girls need love too”
“Well I can’t get any love fat and I can’t get any waif-like”
“So you’re just average”
Hopefully I’m still feisty.
The photo on Flickr of my underwear-clad hip with my tattoo poking out has received 163 views in comparison to 6 views of some of my artwork. Sex sells. And I wasn’t showing much. Just my hip with my combats sliding down. I suppose you could possibly class it as eroticism as I’m teasing with the goods. Not that there’s goods to show, like.
Sometimes I like to stare at the inside of my hip and the space that is created with my underwear tight over the bone. I like to run my fingers across this area. Even if most human beings possess such anatomy I think it’s one of my good features. The inside of my hip. Go figure.
I was looking through some old photos today to select some to upload onto my Flickr account. The one casual readers cannot see. Anyway, I was scrolling through them all and I came across one I had not seen in years. Instantly I grinned from ear to ear at the remembrance of happier times.
I’ve never had this reaction to a photograph before, I mean you smile at certain images and the memories attatched to them but the grin and the wistful feeling is new. Sigh.
A previous gem from Martin Jol:
Jol: I’m new to this country, am I allowed to call you a prick?
Jol: Am I allowed to think you’re a prick?
Linesman: It’s a free country, I can’t tell you what you’re allowed to think.
Jol: If that’s the case, I think you’re a prick.
Eugh. Spawn of a HHHellish union- Stephanie McMahon-Levesque is pregnant. Repent. The end of the world is nigh.
I had an excellent sordid dream early this morning. Not particularly grimy but left me feeling kinda confused when I woke up.
It was simple and brilliant: A long session snogging, feeling and getting felt up by, Joaquin Phoenix.
He had softly swept-back hair that had a wonderful blue sheen to it- like a raven’s wing. His warm skin and hair smelled of cigarettes. Gah.
I have such a soft spot for Kitten, though God help me, I can’t abide his love of PETA. He’s lovably eccentric (in a danger! normal type-of-way) but he’s a “strict vegan.”
Can you be an easy vegan? Well, he does have a reputation with the ladies… Which is clearly why I was eating his face in some darkened room. It was totally teh hawt.
Things started to get a little weird when the action with Kitten started to be intercut with action with the Monster. Maybe it’s because they’ve both got pale skin that the mashup occured, or maybe it’s just my poor tired brain leaking the past. The snogging was still super hot but the flicking to and fro Monster/Kitten was a little disconcerting mid-kiss.
When you lean in to kiss Kitten and find yourself looking at the Monster’s big grey eyes (K’s got green orbs) it’s a bit odd. Likewise, running my hand up the back of Monster’s neck and feeling the long strands of Kitten’s loose locks between my fingers.
Unlike Monster, Kitten had no objection to me running my fingers through his hair. Well, he couldn’t really voice any objection as his mouth was otherwise occupied…
My first day of skool wasn’t too bad. Managed to survive the annoying girl. Department staff lovely although i’m slightly concerned about access to lessons due to teacher availability. Art subtly and not so subtly written off by senior members of management during talks given. I expected this but it’s still quite odd to sit and hear people come out with it.
I told the assistant head that i was looking forward to the challenge of teaching a subject in a school where written academia is valued above everything else. He disageed with me a bit (in a good natured way); I clarified that I just think that all subjects should have value regardless of how “worthy” they are. There’s more to life than physics, chemistry, biology, mathematics and further mathematics.
I have a staff planner now; pleased with the stationary at least. I must customise it. It’s laminated and everything…
Caught an episode of Karen Sisco late night. Very good with plot, action and eye candy. All a growing girl needs.
I move to a new skool today for my long section of teaching practice. Apprehensive. Different fears than when I first started out. They expect me to be able to do stuff. Like teach. Ak.
Gah… In my fantasy life where I teach art and have no need to worry about income I would stop by this place before I made my way over to Hawai’i: the Post Ranch Inn. I’ve been through the area it’s located at (Big Sur) and it’s quite beautiful; the Inn sure looks like a beautiful place to stay.
I’ve always wanted to swim in an infinity pool.
I could imagine spending a week or two there, enjoying the food, spa and environment. Would have to go to MBayAq of course. This is also the fantasy where I have a partner-in-crime who finds my podgy stomach “cute,” delights in the feel of me, still has a sense of wonder about the world (we would poke about in rockpools) and enjoys sitting out under the stars getting warm and fuzzy whilst staring up at the satellites passing overhead.
Kinda pricey, but as I would have no need to worry for cash, it would be no problem. I would tip very generously. Then maybe on to the Cibolo Creek Ranch for a bit before heading out over the pacific.
Concierge.com is totally evil for it’s time sucking abilities- interesting ideas that are usually ridiculously romance-tinged. I’ve been to interesting places on my own, but it’s no fun when there’s no-one to share with. So as I long as I had someone with me to experience the journey and destination it wouln’t be so bad, even if they’re not my paramour.
In other much less important news, I got the results for my first graded essay. I stupidly came up with “Contemporary Art at Key Stage 3” in which I thought I ranted on in and lost the plot due to exhaustion. I was wrong.
Apparently it was: “A cool, slightly distanced look at the topic which meets all of the criteria very well… ” I made some “excellent points” that were “perceptive and thoughtful…” resulting in an overall grade of 80%.
*Slightly* suprised. I have never got such a high grade before and am quite proud in an embarassed kinda way. Will have to see if it’s a fluke…
2000 words to be done by tomorrow. None written. Can’t fucking concentrate. Mind overwhelmed. Eating peanut butter from the jar. Spazzing out. Ak.
K-1 Video: Heath Herring vs. Yoshihiro Nakao.
Don’t make overtures towards your opponent when he’s a K1 fighter…
In no particular order:
1. Complete my course and find a job i feel happy to do with as small a gap from graduation as possible. is that three?
2. Do more kissing. I spent one evening the entire of last year making out. It was glorious. The soft touch goes straight to my nether regions and has a special place in my heart. Kissing, caressing, someone focused on my needs (I give a lot). is that three?
3. This is far more problematic. The first two (six?) I came up with immediately. Okay- Melt a little. So I feel more easy in potentially stressful social situations. And sexualised situations. Have more faith in my seductive qualities, that I can excite and turn on. How I will accomplish this I am not entirely sure, but i’m thinking exposure and practice is what is required.
No whoring for me though.
Me and Patrick sat out society in my room. I opened my bottle of champagne and we watched Giant.
I drank from a glass tumbler. I lounged feeling warm with my stomach poking out of my t-shirt. I hugged Patrick. We rounded the night off with some Spongebob viewage. Heart on stick must die!!!
Luz (pronounced l^z) is a terribly beautiful name.
I called a friend who I hadn’t spoken to in a while who was lacking companionship. She’s a knockout but requires self-belief. I reminded her of a few things.
I stared at my phone to watch the date tick over into 2006; pressing the buttons to light up the display.
I’ve thought of two out of three things to accomplish this year.
May the New Year bring happiness and prosperity to all.
If those are mutually exclusive.