About Leicester Square Bars, and Not Liking Them

Last night we went out with Shelley's work friends to 'celebrate' the end of term in Leicester Square. I put celebrate in inverted commas because there isn't much fun about going to a packed bar in Leicester Square on a Friday night. Maybe it's just me.

For a start, it's so packed and loud that the bar wenches (and they are wenches), instead of saying 'excuse me', simply push you in the back when they want to get by. It didn't make me feel like I belonged.

Secondly, £4 beers just aren't for me. At least, not too many of them are for me.

And lastly, I'm not too good at having conversations in those environments. My voice is too low a frequency to be heard above background noise, and I really can't hear what anyone else is saying (I think the amount of hair insulating my ears contributes to this). One girl who was going to visit Australia later in the year commented that "the jet lag will be bad"; "Mmmm," I responded knowingly, "January is hot". Another guy was showing off pictures on his phone of him with famous people (Mike Tyson was among them), and asked, "Have you seen the movie 'Snatch'?" "You've got a picture with Slash!?" I exclaimed. He looked at me like I was an idiot.

On the way back to the station an old lady shoulder barged Shelley, and then began whining loudly about how much Shelley had hurt her, as if we were going to cave in and make an out-of-court settlement with her. Silly people; silly Leicester Square.

Sunny Intervals

London weather, like many weather forecasters, is unashamedly loose with its predictions, so much so, that it is really hard for them to get it wrong. Like Monday's forecast for instance. We were told to expect "Sunny intervals". Well, they were right. It snowed, rained, and hailed a little, but in between it all there were very slight gaps in the clouds when the sun came out for a few seconds at a time. We really didn't mind though, because it was the first time I had snow fall on me from the sky. Real snow that is.


It didn't last for very long when it fell, but we did dance around a little bit like crazy kids in pajamas to make the most of it (possibly scaring all of the old people who live in our complex). Wes and Stacey came over for the easter weekend and seemed a bit partial to crazy snow dances themselves. Maybe it was all the chocolate we had been eating...

I was so pleased to be finally seeing snow after so many close calls that I even dialed up Mum and Dad on ichat so they could experience the 'moment' too.

S

Patriot Games

I was watching Harrison Ford beat up some IRA men in Patriot Games the other week (I had loads of invitations to go out, but I decided to watch TV instead), when I realised all those punches were landing a little too close to home.

It dawned on me. That baroque architecture is familiar...that's the Old Naval College...Harrison Ford is walking down the steps in the Old Naval College...that's five minutes walk from our place...Han Solo is cracking heads on the pavement five minutes walk from here! I sat up from my slouch. I felt alive with validity for a second or two, then I realised that I was still watching TV (even though I had loads of invitations to go out).


Yes, it turns out lots of movies are shot in the Old Naval College. Apart from that one, apparently Eastern Promises and The Golden Compass did shooting there as well. They are preparing to shoot another one there at the moment, although so far all they've done is erect a large fake stone wall. Only in the movies (shake of the head).


As a postscript, my research has revealed that it is in fact Han Solo, not Hans as I previously thought. I always wondered why he had to have German heritage.

Teacher Complaining

Ahhhhh, some times work gets busy, and one has to let off a little steam through complaints. The volume of take-home work of late has gotten a little ridiculous. This pile of marking I measured to be a little over eight inches high. When I was sick, I spent three full days marking, and still have a little over four inches to go.

Today I made a big step though, I put in my official resignation. In July I will be saying goodbye to teaching. Sniff.

S

In case anyone wants to become a supply teacher?

Timetable reads:

Period 5: 9RC/ History, Room 310

Excellent! The worst class group, in the worst grade, in one of the worst subjects to cover, in the last lesson of the day (that's the worst lesson) - all in one of the worst schools I've ever taught in.

So I steeled myself. I put on my Zen jacket, and told myself that nothing would ruffle me; nothing, not even the jibes about me looking like Owen Wilson or Shaggy from Scooby Doo. Not kids jumping out windows, hitting each other over the head with bags, drinking bottles of coke, listening to iPods, saying G'day mate over and over like it's funny. Nothing. I was going to be a calm killer.

Most of these kids behave like animals. Actually, that's unfair press for animals. But you know those animals that are just jerks. Real jerks.

Despite all this, my combination of cool threats, nihilistic stares and rewarding pats (I know that all sounds mean) seemed to have an effect on them. They were noisy and horrible, but they actually did work, which is truly amazing for them, so I agreed to let them go on time.

But of course, just as I'm letting everyone go, this one kid decides to throw a handful of coloured pencils across the room. And, of course, I tell him that he's not going anywhere until he's picked them all up. "But someone threw dem at me," is his response (as it always is).

The ensuing stand-off lasts for more than 10 minutes (enough time for me to miss my bus). Finally, the kid very resentfully agrees to pick up all the pencils, and takes them over to the pencil tray. "Can I gooooo now?" he asks. "Yes, you can go now," I say ever so foolishly. He steps out the door, then turns around with the handful of pencils still in his hand, throws them on the floor and says, "There, now you pick 'em up bruv", and runs away.

Fiddle-de-dee, I say in my head.

Fiddle...de...deeeee.