16th September (2)
So. I blew all my energy on homework. Y'know how it is. So, now, I can't be bothered to write this entry, or write my novel. The good thing in this situation is that I have done my homework. That's a first. .__.
I feel I should talk about yesterday, say something interesting or witty, but to be honest, nothing really happened yesterday. I woke up at nine, because I had a double free session in the morning, and then didn't get to school until 10:45 for my lesson at 11:05. It was a wonderful feeling, that; the only problem was that by the time I got to school I felt like my head was going to explode or something. Seriously explode too, like a fucking supernova or some shit. It was not good at all. So, I'm there at school with a double session of history first with Mr. Davis, whom I think is awesome. He's young, vivacious, bouncy and yesterday when he walked into our lesson he was totally hyper.
Apparently he'd just come from the staff room (and he was five minutes late, no less, when he's normally the one harping on about how the bell goes at ten past and how we should all aim to be there only a minute after, etcetera etcetera), but he's had a bit of an accident during his break and split a jam tart down his shirt. White shirt. Red jam. Firstly, how the hell do you spill a jam tart? Secondly, who the hell actually spends his lesson teaching time actually trying to clean it up? It was possibly the most hilarious situation he's ever told us about.
He's so unprofessional with his stories it's insane, but it's okay because he's cool like that. Like the time he pretended to have a mental breakdown in our lesson because it was all part of some kind of role play activity to help us learn about Napoleonic France. Suffice to say I never forgot that lesson, or why the coalitions against France failed at first.
Anyway, so he comes into the lesson late, and after relating to us in no uncertain terms all about his "tart related mishap" (definitely a quote for this years NaNo), he jumped straight into the work for the lesson. I think the jam went to his head or something, though, like he had a sugar high, because pretty soon he was bouncing all over the room. It was almost as funny as the time he got hyper by overdosing on Calpol (Seriously? Wtf.) He started using all these weird analogies, and some of the stuff he came out with was simply priceless.
It encouraged me to get out my notebook and write down all of the stuff he said, so now I have a list of "Davo quotes", including gems like "Sorry, all I can think about are hoes, fat cows and turnips" (on the subject of why he was referring to turnips so much. Apparently he'd just been teaching a bunch of year 9's about the agricultural revolution), "You lose the ability to think when you teach", "History teachers love stories; the truth doesn't matter!" and "Oh! The handbags are out!" (referring to a cat fight between two of the boys in the class).
Another classic from halfway through the lesson is as follows:
Chris: "What's going on out there, sir?"
Mr Davis: "They're just having a riot."
And man the way he said it was just wonderful. He also spent the whole lesson calling the Pittites "Pitties" until he was corrected by Liz, whereupon he knelt down on the floor and sobbed to himself in a mixture of embarrassment, laughter and sorrow. Bless him.
After history I had a less than memorable hour of English Literature. We were just reading for our coursework. Nothing special there, only I had, by this point, a fucking migraine. I tell you, I couldn't wait to get home.
... And you just know you found that interesting.
As for today, I have very little to relate. Double General Studies this morning, with Mrs Arched and then Mr Venkatesh (who is actually nicer than I gave him credit for. I was thinking he was going to be awful -_-). Then I had another double free, when I came home made lunch and did nothing but Gaia for an hour. Finally I had history. With Mr Murray, not Mr Davis. I know, how guttering.
The writing today has made very little progress, partly because of my tiredness (which I hope coffee will cure soon enough), this blog which has taken more time than I had planned for since I've gone on for way too long about a certain teacher, and the fact that I just can't be bothered. I don't know where all my energy has gone from the other day, but after the suicide scene which I enjoyed writing immensely, I don't really have any energy at all for the rest of it. Shame really, since I'm only half way through this novel- actually not even that far year, more like 1/3- and about half way through the trilogy and already I'm getting bored. This isn't a good sign for future writings....
I'll just not think about it and hope it goes away. Or something. But, tonight, no matter how unmotivated I am, I have at least 500 words to write and I'll be damned if I let such a small amount of words knock me for six.
.___.
Hi-ho, hi-ho, off to write we go! With a bucket and spade to fill in all the holes, hi-ho, hi-ho hi-ho hi-ho! XD
Toodle-oo.
xx
I feel I should talk about yesterday, say something interesting or witty, but to be honest, nothing really happened yesterday. I woke up at nine, because I had a double free session in the morning, and then didn't get to school until 10:45 for my lesson at 11:05. It was a wonderful feeling, that; the only problem was that by the time I got to school I felt like my head was going to explode or something. Seriously explode too, like a fucking supernova or some shit. It was not good at all. So, I'm there at school with a double session of history first with Mr. Davis, whom I think is awesome. He's young, vivacious, bouncy and yesterday when he walked into our lesson he was totally hyper.
Apparently he'd just come from the staff room (and he was five minutes late, no less, when he's normally the one harping on about how the bell goes at ten past and how we should all aim to be there only a minute after, etcetera etcetera), but he's had a bit of an accident during his break and split a jam tart down his shirt. White shirt. Red jam. Firstly, how the hell do you spill a jam tart? Secondly, who the hell actually spends his lesson teaching time actually trying to clean it up? It was possibly the most hilarious situation he's ever told us about.
He's so unprofessional with his stories it's insane, but it's okay because he's cool like that. Like the time he pretended to have a mental breakdown in our lesson because it was all part of some kind of role play activity to help us learn about Napoleonic France. Suffice to say I never forgot that lesson, or why the coalitions against France failed at first.
Anyway, so he comes into the lesson late, and after relating to us in no uncertain terms all about his "tart related mishap" (definitely a quote for this years NaNo), he jumped straight into the work for the lesson. I think the jam went to his head or something, though, like he had a sugar high, because pretty soon he was bouncing all over the room. It was almost as funny as the time he got hyper by overdosing on Calpol (Seriously? Wtf.) He started using all these weird analogies, and some of the stuff he came out with was simply priceless.
It encouraged me to get out my notebook and write down all of the stuff he said, so now I have a list of "Davo quotes", including gems like "Sorry, all I can think about are hoes, fat cows and turnips" (on the subject of why he was referring to turnips so much. Apparently he'd just been teaching a bunch of year 9's about the agricultural revolution), "You lose the ability to think when you teach", "History teachers love stories; the truth doesn't matter!" and "Oh! The handbags are out!" (referring to a cat fight between two of the boys in the class).
Another classic from halfway through the lesson is as follows:
Chris: "What's going on out there, sir?"
Mr Davis: "They're just having a riot."
And man the way he said it was just wonderful. He also spent the whole lesson calling the Pittites "Pitties" until he was corrected by Liz, whereupon he knelt down on the floor and sobbed to himself in a mixture of embarrassment, laughter and sorrow. Bless him.
After history I had a less than memorable hour of English Literature. We were just reading for our coursework. Nothing special there, only I had, by this point, a fucking migraine. I tell you, I couldn't wait to get home.
... And you just know you found that interesting.
As for today, I have very little to relate. Double General Studies this morning, with Mrs Arched and then Mr Venkatesh (who is actually nicer than I gave him credit for. I was thinking he was going to be awful -_-). Then I had another double free, when I came home made lunch and did nothing but Gaia for an hour. Finally I had history. With Mr Murray, not Mr Davis. I know, how guttering.
The writing today has made very little progress, partly because of my tiredness (which I hope coffee will cure soon enough), this blog which has taken more time than I had planned for since I've gone on for way too long about a certain teacher, and the fact that I just can't be bothered. I don't know where all my energy has gone from the other day, but after the suicide scene which I enjoyed writing immensely, I don't really have any energy at all for the rest of it. Shame really, since I'm only half way through this novel- actually not even that far year, more like 1/3- and about half way through the trilogy and already I'm getting bored. This isn't a good sign for future writings....
I'll just not think about it and hope it goes away. Or something. But, tonight, no matter how unmotivated I am, I have at least 500 words to write and I'll be damned if I let such a small amount of words knock me for six.
.___.
Hi-ho, hi-ho, off to write we go! With a bucket and spade to fill in all the holes, hi-ho, hi-ho hi-ho hi-ho! XD
Toodle-oo.
xx
posted by Kitty Taylor at 7:20 pm
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