Glamour

 A friend of mine has just popped round to discuss my volunteering. It's taken a really long time but I'm almost to the point of being matched with a 'friend'. I'm looking forward to it. It'll be a challenge, but a good one.
As a showed my friend out, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I had panda eyes from mascara and the sort of hair that can only be achieved in under ten seconds after recent shower.

I have aspirations to be one of those eternally groomed women who look effortlessly glamorous. It is doubtful I shall ever be such a woman. A year or so ago, I bumped into a girl I went to school with. She is always pristine. Hair and make up perfect. She was shopping for her son's birthday cake. I had just been swimming. I was wearing track suit bottoms with chlorine infused wet hair and I am quite sure the panda eyes.
When I lived in Bath I made a trip across town to the doctors surgery, catching two buses and walking through the University and through town. Only in the doctors waiting room did I realise my coat was inside out. It was also at university that I decided I could pull off blond hair. I was mistaken. My hair is naturally dark. I used a pre-lightener and my then boyfriend and I carefully followed the instructions on the pre-lightener and then the dye. The outcome was quite frankly terrifying. My hair was white blond for the first two inches, changing to a quite vivid yellow throughout the next 4 or 5 inches, finally blending into carrot orange. In my infinite wisdom, I had spent all my money on these dyes and would now be stuck with my comedic hair for some time. During the weeks I sported this look, I was followed by a man in a BMW and propositioned. Nuff said.

I have been painting my bathroom this week. There is no call for glamour here. But I would prefer that my mother give me some warning she is coming over if I am dressed for painting. I was wearing a pair of very old paint splattered jeans, a green t-shirt with bright yellow lettering, pink fluffy socks and some ballet pumps as I'd just put the bin out. My mother is not good at the art of subtlety when she sees such a look on her daughter.

I am not religious. However, I religiously buy a high street fashion magazine in order that I do not become a shin length floral skirt wearing teacher with whiskers growing from her chin and with a smell of cat pee about her. Or like the teacher at my old school who was near skeletal and owned one pair of stained beige slacks which she teamed with many a grotesque jumper and the overwhelming stench of fags. Last week I tried out a pair of tweed city shorts with floaty fabrics and some ankle boots. At my sign language class, I tried a more Peter Pan look with green tights under my green dress. I will not become a stereotypical teacher. However, the glamour still evades me and on a daily basis I come home smothered in paint, glue, plasticine or the like. It is not unknown for me to have a googly eye or sequin attached to me- usually my backside.

This Summer, I went to a friends wedding. I wrote about my preparations for the wedding. I had a spray tan. I liked it a lot. Made me look healthy. So the following week I went back for another. This time I looked as though I had been creosoted. I have added the creosote pictures to my FB page but under restricted access. I was asked to put them up for my family's general amusement.
I have now remedied the panda eyes.

OCD

As a teacher I have been off work for a few weeks now and still have nearly two more to go. This gives me a lot of time. None of it I have used wisely. I blame the weather for my lack of doing any gardening except mowing the grass and my other task was to write a book, maybe think about two. A fiction book and a non fiction book. The fiction has turned out really average. I began writing it years ago and it stemmed form the being dumped by the very gorgeous man I'd be seeing for a while, just before Christmas.
It wasn't a good Christmas and I got through it with Meet The Parents, laughing.
Anyway, one evening drowning my sorrows in a bottle of Pinot, I decided my disastrous love life would make a good book, if you watered it down and exaggerated/toned down some of the characters. It was going well for a while and I'd written a few chapters which people said were good.
Then I lost it all.
That was a good 7 years ago I think. This Summer I planned to pick it up again from what I'd remembered and change the end - as the princess never did end up with the carriage mender - (see blog description). Now I think it would be sort of nice if she ended up being happy as she was but I can't write it for toffee.
My other book is one I have discussed with a colleague - but the new coalition government may decide to rain on our parade with the changes it plans for the curriculum.
So, this Summer I have done........ not a lot. I am now in a nice routine of staying up late, waking up at about nine, wasting most of the day and then repeating it all the next day. I also have a several times a week wake up in the early hours from my cat, asking to be let out. I have rigged the cat flap so he can come in but not out because I never see him, need to know he's ok and sometimes administer treatment to prevent fleas etc. I say rigged. It is sellotape. The carriage mender didn't put the catflap in properly so it has never offered the choice of in but not out without the aid of sellotape. I bought him a collar which said DO NOT FEED. I haven't put him on him yet. I obsess about whether I should and the safety of collars.
My mother said this week she thinks my OCD has got worse. Maybe this is purely down to time spent living alone, or maybe it's because I've had too much time on my hands. I certainly think during term time I am more focused. I seem to work better, the more I have to do and am much better at managing my time. All this time off has made me lazy.
But I do obsess.
I obsess about whether my front door is locked. I'll check it as I leave, walk down my path or out to my car through the garage, then go back and check again. Sometimes twice. I do the same with my GHD's. I should add, the door IS always shut and the GHD's are always off, unplugged and the socket switched off. Yes I am mental. I am better with my ears now - I won't go into this one again.
Other than this, I can't see that I have really bad OCD. Perhaps I am becoming a little bit DYSON-happy this last couple of weeks but that's no bad thing.....My mother also felt I was obsessing about my blisters. She contented herself and me though by saying she felt very sure that when they did clear up, I'd have found something else to worry and obsess about. She is right.
Who knows what the new head, year, class etc will bring but maybe it'll be a curb on my increasing OCD!

Being a hypochondriac

 There is a small chance that I may be a hypochondriac. It is rare for me to visit the doctor and I wish to stress this quite strenuously to you. But, on the times I have been, there has sometimes been absolutely nothing wrong with me and I am in fact making a giant fuss over nothing. This week I am suffering most terribly from two blisters on my lower arm, caused by insect bites. Normally I get a bit of an itch, stick on some cream and it's all fine. This time, I have developed blisters. And they won't go. It's been 5 days now and they show no signs of improvement and are in fact spreading. This troubles me.
It does not however trouble my mum (a nurse), the rest of my family, or the phamacist I showed it to yesterday who was completely underwhelmed. He took a look, asked if I had scratched it, asked if it had been infected. I said no to both. He has given me.....Savlon.
At my sister's home yesterday, they all laughed at me again because I had administered some Savlon and covered both blisters with a giant dressing. It does look a little like I might have made a rather feeble attempt on my own life now, but never mind. My sister suggested that next time they all see me, I will have my arm in a sling. This then escalated and apparently I will be dragging a drip behind me. You may remeber that when I got a SAD lamp - they commented - of course you have, it's so you! Why wouldn't you have one?
They do not take my dilemma seriously at all. I told them that they would all be sorry when I became like The Fly or Wickes van de Merwe and started growing alien/insect limbs instead of my own. Fly impersonations and suggestions that I would start vomitting black goop ensued. My younger sister finished my slice of cake off, so I told her I had vomitted on that - as flies do. It was a high-brow conversation.
It was suggested that my new appearence with fly limbs, may frighten my new class, and that I should perhaps consider a new career. As I will have fly eyes and be able to view all directions at once, I could work in CCTV, or for London Underground?

Reining in the crazy

 I cannot hide the crazy from the people I am most comfortable with. Friends I have lived with over the years are aware of the crazy. My family definitely are.
From the rest of the world, I try to keep it hidden. Doesn't always work. I write this blog for a start.
I think the crazy helps me to be good at my job. I am certainly in touch with my 'inner child'.

My sister is often horrified at my lack of shame. She would, I think, prefer me not to dance on the pavement outside her home. There are times my mother would prefer me not to sing 'The Kitty Tea Song' to her elderly cats let them know it is 6pm and their meal is about to be served. They are 16 and 17 year old and know this song so well, they will come running even at their advanced years, at the first few notes of my song.

I sing to magpies. I always did the 'Hello Mr Magpie' but my brother said that I said it such a way as the magpie would know I was not genuinely enquiring about his wellbeing as I sounded so disinterested. Now I have a tune.
Recently I was out with someone who I don't know that well and accidentally started to sing one of my many songs. Then it's out there and you cannot undo the crazy. You just have to hope the person will accept it as part of you and not offer you a nice white jacket which does up at the back. There are times when I know I should rein in the crazy and pretend I am sane and that I come from a sane family (my brother in law sings a lovely song about his cat's washing habits). There are other times I forget to.

I add an s onto the end of any silly, affectionate name I have for my cat or dog. Little Mans, Stink Dogs etc. I have large wooden letters on display as you would for your child, but mine spell out the names of my cat and dog.

When I go shopping, I will run and skid with the trolley every time, without fail.
I cartwheel and am proud that I can do it so well at my age.
I paint my nails all colours of the rainbow and sometimes each one a different colour.
I have a vast collection of Hello Kitty kitsch which is the envy of the seven year old girls in my class.
I wore fairy wings to work on my 30th birthday.
I co-invented Fakemas - and Snowga but then was devastated that some git in Canada had already used this name!

I could go on but I think I have probably shared enough of the crazy.
In our daily lives we are many things to many people. I am daughter, sister, teacher, colleague, friend, professional. We are good at keeping people in boxes and knowing how far our boundaries stretch with different groups. Sometimes, we lapse and let someone from the wrong group see the wrong side of us. It is important to judge when you can let go and be a little nuts, and when you should really rein in the crazy.

25 Things About Me

 I have taken this post directly from my FB site. Currently I am totally bogged down with end of term stuff and the many functions and responsibilities I have before my boss retires in just over a week. It's an emotional time. I have taken on a lot of extra work, so for today- I'm recycling.

1) I have drunk a mug of chocolate Nesquik nearly every day for the last 14 years.
2) I once won a competition on the radio for the fact that I only buy cheese if the price ends in 5 or 0.
3) I clean my ears to a silly degree and have given myself ear infections.
4) I have some of the same friends I have had since I was 9.
5) I once convinced a lot of people at school that the yellow haired old man supply was a friend's Grandad. She didn't laugh as much as me.
6) A fat man once sat on my hand and broke 2 of my fingers at center parcs. It did get me out of all cross country sessions!
7) My only Valentine card was from an elderly dog this year.
8) I am very untidy.
9) I have a horrible singing voice but have to sing a lot at work.
10) I love my job.
11) I can learn 30 children's names in half an hour..try me!
12) When I sneeze, I always get goosebumps.
13) I have been a vegetarian since I was 13 except from the time at a Girl Guide event when I forgot and ate a sausage roll.
14) I swam by a barracuda on holiday in the Maldives...it was massive and a bit terrifying.
15) I hated P.E, Maths and ICT at school. Now I am responsible for them in my job and have grown to love them.
16) I am very close to my brother and sisters. A friend of ours said they would "do the set".
17) When I taught Italian twins, the only words I learnt were Polar Bear and starfish.
18) I nearly lost the end of my left middle finger when I was very little. You can still see the stitch marks.
19) Barry Manilow's Copacobana is one of my all time favourite songs.
20) My cat Frodo has his own Facebook page.
21) I cry at E.T, Gladiator and Awakenings...other films leave me cold.
22) Me and my sister laughed until our sides hurt once when we watched our Grandma picking baked beans off the grass....we told her my dad didn't like them on the grass because birds don't eat them.
23) I am scared of caterpillars and slugs make me gag.
24) I once tried to bleach my hair and it was white yellow at the top and orange at the bottom. I was then followed by a man in a posh car who tried to proposition me.
25) I always sing to magpies to wish away their bad luck.