» Being told off as an adult

Teacher blues
I'm a teacher and look pretty young for my age - my finest hour was being id-ed for buying cigarettes - could I prove I was over 16, certainly, my driving licence shows I'm actually 34.
Get frequently shouted at in corridors at school for not wearing a tie, drinking out a can, going the wrong way round the one way system etc by members of staff who haven't recognised me. My pupils love it.
(Thu 20th Sep 2007, 21:23, More)

» Impulse buys

There is a junk shop near my house
So far I have bought three second hand saddles. I enjoy restoring them, saddle-soaping them, then rubbing oil in to make them supple again and pretending I have a horse. I am not 12, I am actually 36. :/
(Thu 21st May 2009, 18:10, More)

» Bastard Colleagues

Do pupils count?
As a teacher of secondary school, I think pupils would technically count as bastard colleagues. They come in all shapes and sizes, rude, ugly, spotty adolescents who are too cowardly to take on anyone real, but gang up in packs of 30 to give the poor bugger who's only trying to do their job a lot of unnecessary shit.
The girls are the worst, with their inch thick foundation, tiny skirts barely covering huge arses and massive corned beef legs, regaling the rest of the neathandertals with stories of their sexual exploits and drinking, and having mouths like long shoremen.
Then we have the boys, ugly spotty adolescent freaks, short yet unpleasant, with their ludicrous hair-don'ts. Their posturing and swaggering looks even more ridiculous with their horrible stunted frames, covered in queasy-looking pustules and blackheads almost a half-inch across. Jesus, use some of your cigarette money to buy some pore-strips!
The only thing that amuses me is when their close-to-breaking voices quaver when they're trying to give you some smart answer. What depresses me the most is the fact that neither sex will manage to do anything worthwhile after leaving school except continue to be a drain on this country's already over-strained resources. Oh, and also that thanks to an education system full of pc pussies, we have no effective sanctions against bad behaviour.
Cheers.
As a post-script, I would like to say there are some pupils who are nice and do brighten your day but they are so out-numbered by the chavs and neds that it makes little difference.
/end rant
(Sat 26th Jan 2008, 21:16, More)

» Public Transport Trauma

Bad got better
Travelling across Europe to spend a year as a German assistant, I had missed my connection so ended up utterly alone, sitting staring at a huge map of Europe wondering which country I was even crossing, it was the middle of the night, I had no hotel booked, no idea where I should get off, only a copy of the Naked Lunch for company, given to me by my rather bizarre boyfriend of the time who I also wouldn't see for the next year. I sat crying, and wishing I'd paid more attention in geography.
Then the guard appeared. He was called Jean-Yves, and was clearly an angel in disguise. He told me it was not right that pretty women should be sitting crying on his train, dried my tears, gave me directions, a roll-up and a can of beer. I still remember him, what a nice guy. He restored my faith in humanity that night.
(Fri 30th May 2008, 23:16, More)

» My most treasured possession

My letter....
I would save the thing that was the most precious to me for ages. A bit of history first....When I was a young indie-pop kid, Manics were everywhere in the music papers - You Love Us on the radio, I had Culture Slut spray-painted on my school shirt...those were the days...
Anyhoo, I digress. I read a piece in the NME or Melody Maker where they were being all pessimistic and nihilistic and I sympathised with them, going through a tough time myself. I was spurred on to write them a letter, a real pep-talk of a letter telling them how much they meant to me etc and I got a reply a few days later saying:
Larissa, take care, Richey. xxx

Soon after he went missing and not long after that so did my letter from him.
:(
(Tue 13th May 2008, 18:56, More)