Just horrible

"Let's write about your family!" I told one of my pupils today, "Mummy or Daddy?"

"What about my brothers?" he said.

He doesn't have any brothers. He's an only child "Okay... " I said, "Uh, how many brothers do you have?"

"I have thousands of brothers," he said, sounding slightly like some civil rights leader.

"What are their names?"

"Logan... "

"Any others?"

"Uh..."

I chose a name at random. "Brian? Is one of your brothers called Brian?"

"Yeh."

"Really? Brian?"

"Yes."

"What about... Chester?"

"No."

"Oh... how about Arthur? Do you have a brother called Arthur?"

"Yes! You know all my brothers, don't you?"

"Why yes, I do."

Metcheck's weather assessment

Metcheck.com is where I go to check the weather cos I think it's the best, most accurate source. Here's their assessmet of the next week's weather. I love the professionalism of the first part contrasted with the last paragraph.

Sorry to say it, but this week does in fact signal a large shift in weather patterns from a blocking high, to a transient system with unsettled weather pushing in for the end of the week.

The difference this year with the placement of the high, compared to previous years, is that it's stubbornly stayed out to the West of the UK. This has allowed a somewhat cooler airstream to push in around the top of the high.

During this week, so weather fronts continue to slip down from the North-west. They will weaken as they push South-east bringing nothing more than cloud and patchy drizzle to Western and Central areas from midweek onwards.

It's from Thursday, where a deep area of low pressure pushes its front South-east across all areas which breaks the back of the high. A much cooler airmass will spread South across the UK in time for the weekend. After this, we look out West to see further unsettled weather pushing in for the remainder of next week.

So, as Summer 2007 draws to a close, there is only one word to sum it up really... pants.

The final straw

My Ikea futon is very confused. It thinks it is supposed to permanently be a bed as we leave it in its outstretched state whether or not we have visitors. So it was giving me a very hard time as I was trying to take it out of its position akimbo and back in sofa mode. Then I realised the mattress wasn't attached and it was upside down -- bottom side up. Although my futon never leaves its recline, it can't make itself do that. But SIL, who visited last, can.

SIL, Zebedee, Dougal and Dylan were here last month for the festival. Three years running they come for the festival. Each time SIL makes out like she's coming to catch up with us. No, you want free lodging in a city where prices rise ridiculously in the month of August. This year she didn't even ask, that's how it's become.

First thing Dylan said when he arrived was that it smelled. Thanks, you bastard, I guess I didn't really need to tidy up then. I forgave that as he's the youngest, but if that were me, I would have gotten pulled into the other room, spanked until I screamed bloody murder, then emerged to given a heartfelt, though sniffly apology under the watchful eye of the manners police that was my father.

When I arrived home the next day, Dougal greeted me with, "You have mice." Perplexed with his little game, I echoed, "Mice?" to only be told of their location: "Mice behind your refrigerator." Anyone else, that might of hurt their feelings. Me, I thought, so fucking what? Who doesn't have mice? Z, Doog and Dyl live in an idyll without mice, a figment of their mother's imagination. Everywhere has mice! No-one is immune. In a world of 6 billion people, there are probably 7 times that number of mice. In Scotland. The sooner those kids, and all of you, learn this, the less stress you will have about mice in your house. It's not a case of whether mice are in your house but if they want you to meet them or not. Personally, I'm happy for those buggers to be behind the fridge and not out with their bubonic plague-having selves hanging round in the open, having a ham sandwich and watching 'Tribe' with Bruce Parry with me on Tuesday nights.

Boy says SIL puts the kids up to all this. Maybe, but I was able to let it go, forgetting all about it. But then she turned the fucking mattress over on my futon. Well, if my smelly, vermin-ridden house, with its dirty-cos-my-convelescening-dog-slept-on-it mattress isn't good enough for Mrs Clean, then feel free to find another place. I think Martin (that is Lawrence) said it best in his "seminal" television show of the same name, "Get to steppin'."

An echo

So I get a message. I have one missed call on my moby from my sister. She never calls me. I am worried, all sorts of ideas running through my head. Though having trouble getting through to her as I am travelling by train, I do talk to her. "Your last blog... " she doesn't use the word pathetic, but she does say this: So middle school.

Oooo, I don't know what hit me my friends. Mostly a crisis of confidence. Like my pal "dumping" me. Like starting my masters and feeling completely overwhelmed and incompetent. Like feeling scared and nervous about doing this all on my own, with none of my peeps. I am a very good worrier, I am.

I have a few responses from the last blog. Right now, I can't bear to read them. I can't bear to have a reflection of my silliness and hysteria in your words. I deeply love and appreciate people responding, especially as it seems that I haven't given a toss about you and your activities in ages. I will read your answers soon, I promise.

Nonetheless, I'm still thinking of packing the blog in. I can't be concise! I'm thinking of only doing Twitter and the moblog. What do you think?

A clearing

More and more I get the feeling that no-one gives a toss and that I'm alone, save my hudsbands and my duggies. I know I don't blog that often and that guilt trips get me nowhere, but why the fuck does no-one respond? I mean, would you do that in a fucking conversation.

My pal Shish has dumped me. Like properly "It's not you, it's me" breaking up. She called me into her room for the talk. She has a lot on this session -- can't sit in the staff room and talk. But you can with her? I feel 15 years old again, except when I was 15, I was getting no play, so let's say I feel 25 again. But then I was getting play. What about 22? I don't know, I relied a lot on her. Life here can be crazy for a wild American girl having to keep it under wraps and she was a good friend to have. But maybe she didn't think I was.

It makes me think more and more that I'm a shit friend. LIke I got a letter in the post from my friend May. She's written me twice and I've not yet written once! So I sat down as soon as I finished reading her letter and typed up a letter. Still haven't printed that shit!

I moan at you for being shit friends, but what the fuck about me? How am I keeping in your life? Not very well. So forgive me friends -- after all, I've just dumped.

On a more positive note, I've started my first class towards my masters. Negative point: a week has past and I haven't done any reading. I was very busy this week with Boy out of toon at a conference and having to do all the walking for the dogs. When I arrived from work on Wednesday, Sarah and Samantha had broken out of the living room, the latter having shat and puked all about the house. Cleaning up the mess answered a question for me: No, I do not want kids! Work has been hectic. I took Bob's boyfriend to see Rush Hour 3. I should tell you about him another time -- an absolutely fascinating cat.

And for fhese reasons, I think I might be packing in this blog for a while. I just don't have the capacity for short entries -- I've tried, I really have. I'm just too... conscientious. But I won't give up blogging, just this blogging format. Twittering will still go on, as will the moblog. I think I might start posting video blogs of me on the moblog. A little easier than typing these tomes of which I have a strong propensity.