Friday, 27 February 2009

Foot Update

Well, the swelling is going down, and I am no longer in quite so much pain, though it still hurts. I'm still off work. This means I had to waste 4 days of annual leave because I can't walk. Sad.

To cheer myself up I tried to buy books online, but for some reason it wouldn't let me. I was very sad.

I am now hobbling about in a manner rather reminiscent of Quasimodo, and am planning revenge on Keith for not giving me the final episode of Heroes season 2. Of course, Quasimodo kind of sucked in the revenge department. Come on - he dies of a broken heart! (I'm talking the book here, not the awful Disney movie.) But plans are brewing in my brain.

So, I'm busy reading, and doing other bits and pieces I can do mostly stationary. I'm getting a bit done, which is nice. That's what annual leave is for, in my humble opinion.

On to watching TV!

Wednesday, 25 February 2009

My Day

I thought I'd let you all know that I invented a new way of crawling. You scoot along on your rear with your left foot in front of you, never touching the ground.

Why would I do such a thing?

Because I am in PAIN.

I was sick on Tues, so took the day off. While I was busy vomiting, my foot was conspiring against me.

I woke up this morning at 4AM, with my foot slightly swollen and with my eyes doing that thing they like to do when I feel pain. Oh yeah, that would be crying.

Left notes for Kal and Reb, watched Heroes.

Then, after they had left, I set out for the doctors.

It took me 45 minutes to walk. 45 minutes of bad pain.

They said, "you've done something to the muscle inside the foot." For that technical answer, which Kal had already given me, they charged $60. Dr speculated that I might have problems with my feet. I was sent for x-rays. That was another 200 houses away. It was only 400 to the doctors.

I got my feet x-rayed. I then started walking back. I stopped because it hurt, and I illegally caught a tram. I then hobbled to the train station, where I illegally caught a train, but had to get off because ticket inspectors came on, and I didn't want to get a fine to add to my $233 that I payed for my doctors.

I then walked the rest of the way home, crying all the way. My foot hurt.

It is now very swollen.

Do you want the really bad news?

I probably won't be able to dance on Saturday!

And even worse! How am I going to ge to Taco Bills on Friday to get trashed on Margaritas? Tragic! I am awaiting a strong man to carry me there and back, but then I've been waiting for ages.

In the mean time, I'm watching brainless movies, blogging, and trying not to do that thing that my eyes do when I'm in pain. I hear it ruins make-up. Fortunately, I'm not wearing any, but we must keep up habits.

I'm off work tomorrow, if anyone wants to stop by and visit me. Just remember, it takes me a while to crawl to the door.

Well, At Least I Know He Goes To Hope

In honour of Tia, who has left Kinder, I thought I'd share a story about her that I haven't posted.

Last year, all of the kids went around asking, "What's your question?" and 'writing' down whatever the other person said. They asked everyone.

Tia came to me and asked, "What's your question?"

"When will I get married," I answered. "It's the only real question there is."

Tia obediently wrote it down.

"Well," I asked, "What's the answer?"

Tia thought, then said, "Four o'clock."

Later that day, at 4:15, I reminded Tia of what she had said. She looked at me, shrugged, and said, "So he's late."

Sunday, 22 February 2009

Food Meme

Because you are all slackers and never do any of my memes, and claim it is because you: don't read, don't watch movies, are unmusical, are retarded (okay, I made that last one up) I'm doing one EVERYONE can do. The Food Meme!

1. What is my favourite food to crunch?
Celery with hommus.

2. Favourite comfort food?
Chocolate, in all forms.

3. Favourite picnic lunch?
Tempted though I am to say strawberries, because it leads to endless entertainment, though usually not in strawberries, I'd have to say cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches. Yum, yum, YUM.

4. Favourite food described / seen in a book or movie?
Enid Blyton's midnight feasts are always awesome. Failing that, Chocolate (the movie) has some incredible chocolate making scenes.

5. Best food smell memory?
None. I am only beginning to develop a sense of smell, as my adanoids are retarded.

6. Favourite summer snack?
Ice-cream and gelati.

7. Food that reminds me of the ocean?
Fish. It used to swim in the ocean.

8. Favourite winter snack?
Soup. Especially vegetable or minestrone.

9. Most likely to eat for lunch?
Salad and fruit.

10. Least likely to eat for lunch?

11. Makes me gag?
Ginger. And then it makes me vomit. That is because I am allergic. And unlike strawberries, it doesn't even taste good.

12. Food tradition I love?
My morning porridge. It has chocolate in it.

13. Food tradition I loathe?
Christmas dinner with my family. Three plus hours of people insulting each other in a mostly not humorous way, whilst consuming large quanties of meat and grey vegetables.

14. Favourite wild foods?
Fruits and vegetables. Bush plums are nice.

15. Favourite medicinal food?
Green tea.

16. Food that reflects my heritage?
Haggis. Unfortunately. Failing that, porridge. Though traditionally Scots have their porridge 'neat', which means with SALT and not cream, milk, sugar, or chocolate.

17. Food most like me?
No Idea.

18. Favourite raw food smell?
I still have very little sense of smell.

19. Favourite cheese?
You mean I have to CHOOSE? Brie, or blue, or fetta...

20. Ideal pizza?
Five cheese pizza.

Random Things Everyone Should Know

- Angela needs to die. She is a minion gone bad.
- My criteria as explained to Angela: Male. Single. Straight. Over the age of 22. Under the age of 30. Wants children. Not one of your school teachers.
- If you wear your hair in pig tails, at least two people will tug them. One will do this pretty much every time you wear your hair in pig tails, the other will be a random person who changes every time.
- If you wear your hair in pig tales, at least one person from KFC will tell you that you look "so cute".
- I am now paranoid about my arms. This is the fault of Keith, who told me I had HBF. I then clarified: "You're saying I have fat arms?" "No, I'm saying your arms are fat." Why I am concerned I don't know. It's KEITH. But I am.
- I can do the Charleston and the Macarina AT THE SAME TIME. Video hopefully to follow.
- I can understand Danish, but only if I'm not concerntrating. Which is pretty good, considering I've never spoken Danish in my life. It also helps when one of your students is a Danish kid with no English.
- Kal and I change name-tags at places other than church. We did at dancing yesterday.
- When you change your name-tag, the same people will notice every time. In more or less the same order. Joab, Joce, Allan, Creighton, Denise, Angela.

On to making a food meme. Or a video of me doing the Charlesterina.

Thursday, 19 February 2009

I Have No Idea What She's Talking About

I was in the yard with Alice and some of the others, and was making a bunch of my usual lame jokes. Alice looked at me and said, "Sam, you are the silliest teacher in the world."

"No way!" I said. "There must be at least one somewhere in the world who is sillier than me."

Alice thought, and said, "Alright then. You're the second silliest."

Wednesday, 18 February 2009

These People Crack Me Up

I had on some Simon CDs, and I realised that there wasn't going to be enough time to listen to the entire album before the sleepers needed to go down for their nap. So I did what any sensible person would do. I flicked forwards to the awesome song.

I turned to Tia and said, "I just love this song!"

"Me too," said Tia. "It reminds me of High School Musical."

Sunday, 15 February 2009

Happy Valentines Day Kal

Kal and I were discussing who got the better Valentine's Day Hearts. She got more, but my one lonely one was from a boy, which apparently outweighs ones she got.

I can't have Kallie losing to a loser like me. So, she's getting some Valentine's from me! To save paper, it's going on the blog.

1. Dear Kal, you cook so well. If I were a boy, I'd marry you. Love Sam.

2. Dear Kal, you like the Beatles. That is so awesome. Love Sam.

3. Dear Kal. You can put together IKEA furniture. If I was a boy... well, if I was a boy I could probably put it together myself. So there goes that plan. Love Sam.

4. Dear Kal, I still think you are way prettier than me. But then, it's the boys that count. Love Sam.

5. Dear Kal, boys are stupid. We are both single. Premise sufficently proved. Love Sam.

That's all I got for now. When I think of more I'll comment.

Saturday, 14 February 2009


So, everyone is worried about the bushfires. With good reason, the official death count was 181 yesterday, with lots of people still unaccounted for.

Guess where I was on that Saturday? I was at a wedding!

Guess where the wedding was? It was at Heidleberg-Kinglake rd.

That would be THAT Kinglake. (It isn't however, the wedding that was in the newspaper.)

We (meaning me and Adam) missed the turnoff to the winery and ended up right where the police were busy turning people back. One of them was like, "You have to go bak! There's chaos all around!" Which was true, but that's not what you tell people who are driving looking for a wedding. One of the most important things in a bushfire situation is to remain calm.

So, we turned back, found the winery a few km way, had the wedding, where the water went off, the power went off, the police turned up looking for two kids who had gotten cross withh their parents and run away from home (right near a bushfire situation) (they found both kids at the winery, skulking in the driveway.) To show how oblivious I am to all this: I thought the lights went off for atmospheric purposes.

Guess I am calm in bushfire situations.

Everyone left safely, and presumably soon after we left the winery was engulfed in flames. It is in that area. It don't know.

So, part two.

I had a mum very panicy as she was picking her daughter up at work. Because we could see masses of smoke, quite near. Turns out it was from the Ivanhoe fire. I calmed her, told her in the unlikely event it got near to Kew, then to make sure you had plenty of water, and meds, and stay in your house. Houses are far safer than outside them for bushfires.

I got to feel like an expert for this. My family are prepared to survive pretty much any natural disaster that comes. Except flood. We only have two life jackets in the attic. But we have plans for all contagious diseases (ie SARS) house fires, and bushfires. Earthquakes don't happen in Australia. And, as my mum says, we're not too likely to have a flood either.

So, who else has bushfires stories?

Sunday, 8 February 2009

Why Did I Get Roped In For This?

Multi-cultural week is coming up. Our church is celebrating it. I'm not exactly sure why. We have Singaporean Chinese, Malaysian Chinese, Indonesian Chinese, and Chinese Chinese.

Anyway, they are putting on a performance of different cultures. And I, being a person of a different culture, get to perform in it.

After being convinced (with the promise of no rehersals, meetings or other such things) to do this, I went home and thought.

I thought about the Irish dancing I know.

I thought about the Scottish dancing I know, then dismissed it, because I know mostly Country dancing, and that means I would have to train other people (at least 5, preferably 7) and that would involve rehersals.

I then got the bright idea of singing a Scottish Song or two. After all, I performed in Scotland the Brave two years in a row. I know heaps of them well enough to perform.

I then thought about what Scottish songs I know.

I thought about singing I Belong To Glasgow.

I thought about singing Donald Where's Your Troosers.

I thought about singing My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose.

I thought about singing Green Grow the Rushes O. There are some worthwhile lessons for all the boys in church there.

Then I imagined Rabbie Burns coming to Hope Kirk and knocking some sense into our boys. It was a wonderful image.

I came to my senses, and realised that Rabbie Burns is in fact dead. He was born 250 years ago, you know.

I then remembered that my harp is commonly called a folk harp or a CELTIC harp.

I then remembered that I can play the Irish Black whistle.

I have arranged a practise schedule of doom.

Why am I so psycho?

Why doesn't Rabbie get me out of this?

Is it because he's sae weary, fu' o' care!

I think I have issues.

Oh well. At least I'm actually going to practise my harp now.

Wednesday, 4 February 2009

Not only are my children going to be austic, but they'e also going to be unco

My standard comment about all the lovely autistic kids I've worked with is that I'm clearly going to have one. Why else would I have taught so many of them? So far I'm u to 2 regulars (in just over a year of regular teaching), an austic kid in nearly every class I taught when I was doing relief teaching, and a sibling of two of my favourite kids is also autistic. That is way WAY more than normal.

But back to my kids. And the fact that they are going to be in and out of hospital with injuries.

Remember Tia?

Well, yesterday, I got to use my first aid skills again. Yay!

Alex (not Alec, Alex) tripped on his own feet, and hit his head on the shelf. No signs of damage, so I gave him a hug. The phone rang, so I picked him up, stuck him on my hip, and went over to answer the phone. It was Lucy, wanting to talk about Maggie's baby's crackers. I turned and looked at Alex, and there was BLOOD everywhere. I then realise that I'm not sweaty from failed air-con above the phone. No, I'm covered with blood.

Alex looks at me and says, "I'm bleeding!" I took the kid off my hip, sat him down, and pressed a paper towl to his head. The other Sam walked into our room, and went to get Rochelle. The reliever is happily scrubbing cups in the bathroom, in full view of me and a child covered with blood, and a bunch of other kids trying to find out what's happening. Eventually Maggie comes downstairs, and I tell her about Felicity's crackers.

Lucy then walks in, and says, "You have blood in your hair too."

Erin then comes off of her break, realises that the cups are probably not the priority at the moment, and takes the other kids outside. Rochelle comes in to tell me that Alex's mum is on her way.

I keep Alex calm, clean him up a little once the blood has stopped, so that his mum isn't totally freaked out.

Maggie wants me to be the first aid officer now rather than Erin. I seem to be the only one using my first aid skills. I said no. First aid officer needs to make sure that we have plenty of bandaids in the first aid box. As if I'd remember that!

Clearly my children are going to be unco and bleed everywhere and choke on things all the time. As long as it isn't the autistic children bleeding everywhere. That could be interesting. Imagine trying to calm down a bleeding autistic kid.