Top tip

Do not race in an Olympic pursuit styley on a scooter in heels and a skirt. It hurts.

This sort of graffiti is allowed

Remember the whiteboard in work...


Yes I am!

If I didn't do things like this...

This weekend:

1. I got my flights booked and paid for. Round the world, here I come!
2. My GHDs arrived. No more bad hair days for me…not that I ever had any, ever.
3. I went to Dublin on Saturday.
4. I went to Dublin on Sunday.

Two totally separate trips. Julie, Lynsey and I went to Dublin on Saturday to go shopping to that shopping centre. It was part of my birthday present (it’s always good to drag out one’s birthday! Jud taught me that). So off we went on Saturday morning, €uro in hand. It was a class day and even though the present did not extend to buying my purchases, I got lots of nice things. The plan to start getting Christmas presents quickly went out the window (but expect to see me wearing some new clothes!)


This, believe it or not, is an Autumn Soul hoodie! I was very excited to see it (although in retrospect I don't know why, not like it was Timbuktu). So excited I took a photo, which came out blurry - I was on an escalator.

On Sunday I was head southbound once again. This time David, Karen and I were going to the rugby. The rugby giants of the Pacific Islands were in town and they thought they should take on the mighty Ireland. That was their first mistake. The second was doing this a week after super Ireland defeated Australia. Their third was timing (fair enough, probably wasn’t their fault). They never stood a chance in Ireland’s last match at Lansdowne Road for the next few years.

And so it came to pass.


'No seriously, have the ball, I insist.'


They're shoulder to shoulder, answering Ireland's call.


Number one for Paddy.


Karen and I with foam hand (see below).


During the lap of honour to say goodbye to Lansdowne the confetti was released. Très cool.

So we had to be there before lunch to get our tickets. On our way to get them we were given green foam hands. I was very excited by this. I think it might be because of the 'Gladiators' link. Anyway, after lunch we were back at the stadium, and as we were walking to our entrance David and Karen got handed something but I didn't.

Now, I feel I ought to explain my actions here carefully. I am the youngest and the youngest usually misses out on things and generally feels hard done by. Therefore I wanted the tin thing they got. But as I turned to get it from the yellow coated promotions woman she’d walked on a bit. Therefore it required a speedy step or two. As I turned to rejoin David and Karen, they were laughing at me. It was then, and only then I discovered my error. I ran up the street to get a condom.

In my defence I didn’t know what it was. Inside it could very well have been keys to a Mini Cooper or something. And then who'd look foolish for not getting one? But no, I made myself look like some Convent-taught schoolgirl who couldn’t believe her luck that they were giving condoms out on the streets to anyone at all. It was a miracle David and Karen were willing to stand with me at all after that.


But remember, as it says on the packet, total abstinence is the only way to be 100% sure of protection from STIs and pregnancy, play it safe boys and girls. [Great cartoon though. Especially his ‘feet’.]

Gingerbread houses plus one

Seriously I cannot believe it has been a year since I saw all those gingerbread houses. How quickly has the year gone?! I often find myself harking back to good times and now I always seem to look at the clock and wonder what everyone is doing in America. I kind of know what everyone was doing today…parade, turkey, football. There are worse ways to spend a day I suppose.

I on the other hand went to work on a piss poor day when the heating broke. I didn’t think I could reasonably argue that Thanksgiving was now a part of my culture and I should get it off. Maybe if I had known it would be so cold I would have made an attempt.

It’s a good holiday though, there’s no presents, no expectations. It’s just a traditional family time. This year I celebrated by speaking to my American families which is what it’s all about.

It’s also a day when I’ve remembered the fragility of life so today I’m thankful for mine and my family's.

Not much really

Not much really today:

Went to training about learning styles today. Fair enough not really related to this job, but it is to my next, and it tries to go some way to heal the sad sad news that I will not be going to Cork. I am destined to never to go there.

I am definitely an analytical learner - I'm excited about learning, I defer to authority and want recognition for all my hard work. Nice to know and good to realise I teach in equal parts. There was no test for laziness or freaky number remembering however.

I have a to do list, actually I’ve had it for a week or two. Maybe if I publicise it I’ll be shamed into doing the things on it.
-Tidy the unholy mess that is my room.
-File my bank statements etc.
-Take photos off my computer to free up space and back up my music.
-Sell my tat on eBay (actually this has been on my to-do list since June…2005)

Right, have to go ‘I’m a Celeb…’ has just started! Eh, hello that’s why it’s called a to do list. You have the things still to do.

Permission granted

This lifted a dull Thursday for me, I hope it does the same for your >insertwhateverdayitishere<.

My good deed for the day was royally snubbed!

This tale of woe occurred yesterday and has found its way onto my MySpace page. Hope it makes you guys chuckle. Man, I'm funny when I try to be.

Funny, when I was wee I was taught that it was nice to do nice things. Apparently not. Whilst living in this alien land in which I find myself I have become accustomed to not having my nearest and dearest to hand. It is not a pleasantry (or, at times, an unpleasantry) but reality. I have found a coping mechanism in making new friends and creating new past-times. I still potter (not potterY, you understand, just potter - those of you who know me best will understand), I still make cards (and forget to post them - sorry), I still watch soaps (Monday nights are especially enjoyable on this front) and do many other things that make me me.

However, in an effort to branch out I decided to embrace community spirit and in so doing decided upon the Old People's Home next door as the outlet for this venture. I had an idea. A good idea, I thought. My plan was this: to go next door and be all bright and cheery, offer to play Piano some night for the oldies to sing along to carols or whatever and do my bit for society.

So, today, after work, laiden down with my satchel full of marking and, bizarrely, a toilet roll (I have the cold not the skits), I parked my car and wandered next door. I entered the strange grand Victorian building (more Queen Vic than Victorian period) with the obligatory 'Eau de Old People's home' ammonia smelling 'pot pourri' and made my way up to the most important looking of the two ladies I saw before me - the one in the dark blue tunic rather than the lilac one.

I said my piece: 'I'm a Music teacher at the College and I live next door. I'd like to volunteer to come in some evening and play Piano and sing some Carols with the residents (thought 'oldies' may not be deemed PC here) in the run up to Christmas'. Well! You'd have thought I'd just mentioned the word euthanasia! The grilling I got! Shocking!

First the 'lady' insisted that I say my piece again, so off I went 'I'm at Music teacher, blah blah blah', then she wanted to know if I was going to bring in a group (I expect she meant school kids rather than a full on group like Muse who, incidentally, are from round here) and when I said no she looked even more confused - maybe even a little disappointed.

She went on to ask if it would be a voluntary. Now, here we have a problem. I heard the word voluntary and thought in musical terms as in like a recital or solo or something. So, I said, 'well, either that or the residents could sing along. Just whatever you want, really'. Rude lady replied with 'no (*patronising stare*)

'Would you want paid?'. I firmly said 'no, no, not at all' to which rude lady (almost laughing) said 'Well, why do you want to do it, then'. This, I thought would have been the easy bit. Eh, no!

So, my tale began. 'My Granny used to like to hear me play so I thought some of the residents might like that sort of thing too'. (Straightforward enough; the use of the letter D in the word useD clearly and emphatically implying past-tense.) So what does Rude Lady say? 'Where's your Granny now, then?' My reply, 'Heaven'! (so put that in your pipe and smoke it, you old witch) Rude Lady, realising her faux pas, tried to backpedal somewhat with a decidedly insincere smile (which, to be fair, could easily have been wind - maybe she could have used my loo roll, who knows? At least I was prepared!).

I continued my tale of woe by saying that I'd moved to the area and didn't have any family nearby so I thought I'd volunteer to play some evening. (Though clearly by the time I had to explain for the third time what I wanted I was beginning to think I couldn't be bothered even if she did agree).

Rude Lady, clearly not wanting to make a good impression, said 'aren't you going home for Christmas?'. I said 'yes, on the 19th Dec' so thicko Rude Lady (really trying my patience by this point) said 'but you just said you don't have any family round here'. What part of I HAVE A NORN IRISH ACCENT didn't she get?! Ever-persistently politely I replied, 'yes, I'm going home to Belfast on the 19th Dec'. So what does Rude Lady say? 'Well, it'll have to be before the 19th then!' No s**t sherlock! The woman's a genius.

The conversation proceeded in this fashion for another few minutes - which I'll not bore you with - but after all that she wasn't even the manager or the matron or anything!! She had to take a phone number (obviously too lazy to walk next door) and said that someone will be in touch. I doubt very much that they will be - or that I'll agree to anything even if they do ring. Stupid woman. Imagine her coming to tell you bad news if that's what she's like in receiving an offer of a good deed for the day.

My faith in human nature is somewhat waning. Your mission, having read this, is to restore it - good and proper, like. In case I don't see ya - Good afternoon, good evening and good night!

The past while

I haven’t written an update of my life of late. So here goes:

-was off on Tuesday because I worked on Saturday (see next point). I went to Junction 1 with mother to return the jeans that were too high. Except when I got there I decided to keep them. I then spent money buying a skirt and jacket from Next. The plan to save money continues to go well out the window.

-was at Soulmates Challenge on Saturday and a good day was had by all. Bouncy obstacle courses are a hit with children and adults alike. Pam and I had go. I won, yay me.

-The travelling Team On Mission (TOM) were back in the office this week after a long absence. It was good to see them. Even if they disresected church property. We have a whiteboard where everyone writes up their meetings etc. After much moaning the two teams (Travelling and 24-7 Prayer) got added to write up their plans. However, they greeted this generous act, something that no other TOM has had, with contempt. For instance, instead of Nicky being ‘in’ on Monday to Friday he was ‘in labour’. (The happy day comes on Saturday when he gives birth to an elephant.) I, on the other hand, am apparently ‘in continent’ on Monday and ‘indescribable’ on Friday. (A much better way to end the week I think.) We couldn’t help but notice that they didn’t mess with Gillian’s or David’s space. It’s only November and they’ve already learnt what you can’t and can’t do. These guys will go far.

-Scott Mills nearly had me crying coming home from work with his Random Acts of Kindness. I didn’t even hear the emotional bit when they told her story (think her mum died of cancer). I just needed to hear her cry at the excitement of meeting the Sugababes. Bloody hormones.

-Watched a bit of ‘I’m a Celeb…’ tonight, the funniest TV since I got home. Dean Gaffney has gone up in my estimation. He’s well ‘ard (see what I did there?!). I also watched ‘UK Music Hall of Fame’. Joss Stone has spent way too much time in USA. Come home Joss and get rid of that accent.

-Read the funniest story today and if I get permission from the author (or indeed her brother) I will share it tomorrow. Fair enough, that’s not so interesting for you right now, but tomorrow you may be thanking me. I can feel the excitement from here.

Another bunch of nobodies then?

When there's any kind of discussion/debate/argument in our house and I'm right, my dad will say 'Tina is always right!'.

Might I refer you to a post from last year. Check out my number one choice.

How good am I?! (I'm still pulling for the Mr. Blobby man to make an appearance though.)

They shall not grow old

[First of all, tttttttttttttt! Yo!]

This is in two parts today.

Part One – Typical Tina story and observations
We grew up with Remembrance Day (like Memorial Day in the USA). My Grandpa and my mum’s dad both fought in the Second World War. But it was mostly because my Dad was a Scout leader that it was a part of our winters. My dad and my brother would march round to the Cenotaph with the rest of the scouts and me and my mum would scurry along with them. Once the local Cenotaph ceremony was over, my mum and I would dash home to watch the national ceremony. Later I also ‘marched’ as only Guides can. (We were big Baden-Powell fans in our house.)

This morning I went down to the local Cenotaph. There were a lot less people there than I remember but I suppose that’s what happens with time. But some things never change:

1. There will always be more Boys Brigade than Scouts. (Do they bribe them?)
2. The BB will always be better at marching than the Scouts. (Well that’s what they do of a Friday night, march.)
3. There will always be at least two Scouts with wild, curly, untamed hair. (One of these will be shoulder length, and one will belong to the leader.)
4. The BB’s uniforms will always be smarter and better turned out than the Scouts. (I’d say they are always dressed perfectly but this morning a BB guy was wearing brown shoes. Ha! This made me feel better when the next point happened.)
5. The BB will lay the wreath with military precision*. The Scouts may as well hurl it up there. (Today the Cubs messed it up. It’s not hard - walk up, stop, lay the wreath, step backwards, bow head, turn and walk away. Seriously, does no one ever run it through with them? Or maybe that’s why the younger ones do it so when they get it wrong there’s a general feeling of ‘uch sure they’re only young’. Not me though, I had to turn my laugh into a cough.)
*Military precision of old. Today in Whitehall the Chiefs of the Army, Navy and RAF caused confusion as they stepped forward ahead of the High Commissioners whose turn it actually was. They had to be Scouts.

All that said however, if I should be blessed with a son, he will never be in the BB if I have anything to do with it. Never underestimate the level of loathing between the BB and the Scouts.

Part Two – Deeper and maybe controversial
I was reading about the red/white poppy debate. I don’t really know what to think about it. Maybe I’m too much of a realist but and the idea of not having armed services to protect and defend us is ridiculous. That said war should never be the first choice, it should always be a last resort. I really don’t think there’s any more symbolism behind the red colour of the poppy than that being the colour of the poppies that grew in Flanders fields. And I’m not sure wearing a poppy necessarily implies all that the nay-sayers say it does. But wearing a white poppy seems to be deliberately provocative, yet it is worn in peace.

You can read more about it here, here, here and here. Then tell me what you think.


Does Remembrance Day glorify war or honour those who died because of it?

Wha happened my s?

My aren' working. I have no idea wha he flip happened i. Bu i is dead annoying wih a name beginning wih a , like ina! I hough i was working fine his morning bu now somehing has happened i and as you can see i doesn' work now. Shi or wha.

On the upside I can swear wihou acually swearing!

You know what they say, if you look like your passport photo then you're too ill to travel

Ever in the quest to save money, I asked my dad tonight if he had any passport photos of me so I wouldn't have actually pay for new ones. He hunted in his desk and found these. I'm thinking not.






At first glance you think 'ah innocence itself', but that quickly changes to 'is she drugged?' [Points to note: 1) Yes, that is a Global Hypercolour t-shirt I'm wearing. 2) Forever and a day I had a fringe, goodness knows why. It was never straight due to the almighty cow's lick on my hairline. And 3) Alas the attempt by my ears to take over the world failed.]


There was however an even better photo from the same session:



I remember the incident well. It took an age for the first picture to come so I, the keen technician, bent down to see what was going on when...well you know.

A clever plan to cut road traffic accidents and CO2 emissions from planes

I like to think I am a reasonably smart person. I have decent GCSEs and A Levels, a good degree and a postgrad. And not a postgrad in just anything, the powers that be have decreed from above that I am in fact smart enough to teach others.

So why has it taken me all evening to fill out two forms, two forms?

The designs aren’t user friendly, they aren’t even user unfriendly, they are user-is-the-enemy-and-I-must-destroy-any-small-chance-of-comprehension-at-every-turn.

Maybe it’s just the two forms I have (DVLNI and Passport Service, I’m getting my must-do things done). For a start, there’s the bumpf they give you. Each form came with about four different inserts. Each bit I had to fill in directed me to a different numbered paragraph from the inserts (except in the passport one, where there are no bloody numbers). Neither could the websites they helpfully directed me to answer my questions (and I refuse to believe I have a one of kind problem). And to add insult to injury, they couldn't easily tell me how much the respective ID would cost.

So my question is how does a person, like jeans girl from Juction One, without GCSEs get on with these things? Do they just not drive or leave the country?

Excuse me, I have to go now and lie in a darkened room with a cold flannel to my head and a stiff drink in my hand.

Sunday evening

I feel like I have neglected my blog in the last few days. Here are the highlights of the past few days:

-Went to Pizza Hut and the cinema on Wednesday with the girls. Pizza Hut service was seriously bad. I hate bad service. 'Step Up' was seriously predictable but passable enough.

-Got my eyes tested and picked out new glasses. I’ve had my current ones since I was on Team on Mission. Long enough to warrant a new pair I think, although I was encouraged to hear my eyesight is no worse. And I can read the bottom line (although fair enough, with glasses on, but still!)

-Thursday was YF Social Evening to Dundonald. I’m no brilliant bowler but Thursday was particularly disasterous. I swear the lane wasn’t made level.

-On Friday Ruth and I went to Junction One. Another successful trip there with her. I got a skirt, woolly hat, scarf and gloves (the hat was worn straight away so arctic it was) and a pair of jeans that according to the girl ‘actually looked good on me’! The cheek. She didn’t even get her rudeness when I repeated ‘actually?’ to her. I bet she had no GCSEs. Since getting the jeans home, I can’t decide if I like them or not, they are a bit high I think. Not to Simon Cowell proportions or anything but definitely higher that is usual I think. My mum says you wouldn’t notice but still. So I might be going back to Junction One to return them soon. I had a fear that the skirt would make my child bearing hips appear even bigger, but was encouraged to discover it did not.

-Last night my PGCE class had a get together. It was another good night, reminiscing and hearing new teaching nightmares. Marie was chief organiser, which is a hard job. However she made it even harder on herself however by forgetting to book the table at the restaurant where we were to go. Oops.


Team PGCE, well some of us. Nobody is quite sure why we are such a close group, even now. Gavin, our tutor says there hasn't been a class like us since. Many a laugh last night, mostly from Geraldine. She told us of how she was burgled on Friday. The story was funny, because they took nothing. They even turned up their noses at her jewellery. It was made even more hilarious by her telling us the police came out in helicopters (she lives in real bandit country) five times before coming inside to investigate seven hours after the crime was reported. I swear the woman should have a docusoap made on her life. It would be hilarious.

This week I absolutely have to sort out my lost driving licence and renew my passport. Plus my new glasses will be coming in. I’m excited, even if it means a severe dent to the purse. Oh and Lynsey is making Julie and me dinner on Tuesday. Good luck everybody.