» PE Lessons

Dear God the PE teachers at my old secondary
When deciding to become a PE teacher, one should always consider the resentment felt towards you by the pupils you will end up teaching, and therefore it may be advisable to choose a different career if you have an unfortunate surname.

Apparently, Mr. Humpage didn't think that far ahead.

Honest to god, that was his name, and it didn't help that he had a particular fondness for bright pink jumpsuits rather than the traditional shorts and t-shirt. Oh, and he was bald. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just it doesnt help the overall image.

Two particular moments stand out involving this mad-man. The first was an unusually cold day in April or May, I forget which. It was also raining. Rather than enjoy the delights of the marginally warmer and marginally dryer gym, he decided we should all go outisde and play softball. So we did.

Or rather we would have done if he hadn't decided that now would be a good time to regale us with tales of his childhood. Apparently he was particuarly fond of his father, mostly it would seem due to regularly administered beatings. Make sense of that. We certainly couldn't, and bear in mind we're standing around in summer kit (thin polo shirt), in the driving rain, in a cold field in Lancashire. This went on for about half an hour, so it was no surprise when a good portion of the group went home in the afternoon feeling quite ill, whilstt the rest of us sniffled our way through the rest of the day.

Secondtime concerned litter on the field. Apparently there was a lot of it, which was to be expected since thats where everyone went at breaks and dinner, and there were only two bins, at opposite ends of the field. The worst of this was the drinks cans which practically flew out of the single vending machine in the summer. these would get chewed up by the big tractor/lawnmower thing and create lots of bits of sharp metal. In fairness this was a concern, but his method of dealing with it was... unique. Rather than getting those who didnt have their kit to pick up all the cans, he did it himself. He then came into asssembly, whith two or three bin bags full, emptied them all over the stage, ranted for ten minutes, then afterwards, got his form (for he was also a form tutor)to pick them all up, thus enforcing a lost break and some undeserved labour on a group of kids, whilst endangering their hands with lots of sharp metal. We saw it as counterproductive somehow.

Very odd guy.

Must dash, more later.
(Wed 25th Nov 2009, 11:41, More)

» Rubbish Towns

The M65 Corridor
Yes, I know it's not strictly a town, but it contains many and they're all equally bad.

The M65, for those not clued up on motorways, stretches from Preston to Nelson and Colne, passing throught the delights of Blackburn and Burnley, and very close to the pinnacles of urban joy that are Accrington and Oswaldtwistle.

I apologise in advance to anyone who lives in these places (although judging by people's comments on Blackburn and Preston I'm not sure thats needed), but quite honestly they scare me. I think it's the people more than anything, and not in the same old "its filled with chavs" way, although that's true as well. The majority of them just seem so lifeless and languid, or downright weird. It does say something that Accrington has two pound shops within 200 yards of each other, and even the pidgeons there are malformed. Whole areas of houses in Blackburn and Accrington are shuttered, with the demolition and rebuilding on hold. Blackburn is famous for its waste of money on pointless chunks of decorative metal. Also there's a lot of racial intolerance, which isn't good when Blackburn has the highest proportion of Muslims outside London.

Then there's my hometown itself, where there's a massive deal of civic pride, with not a lot of things to be proud of. There's some good parks and a biggish co-op, but the born and bred (and I mean that) Harwoodians go on like it's plated in gold and the delusion is downright scary. Like the village shop in League of Gentlemen. I'm glad I've escaped. I wouldn't go back if my family didn't live there and I wasn't a Rovers fan.

There are diamonds there, but there's a lot of rough.

Edit: Forgot Nelson, where at a 6th form 3rds football match I was in, a ten year-old spectator dropped his flick knives, and then picked them up as if this was the most natural thing in the world. Wasn't so keen on winning after that.

Obligatory "Woo First Post!"
(Tue 3rd Nov 2009, 18:58, More)

» Crappy relationships

I had one
She was my first proper girlfriend, met at college, ended up at the same uni.

Still, we'd been together for two years, which seems a long time at that age and I loved her and cared about her. Even after she started spending more and more time with a new male friend she met and less mith me, and even when she made me feel like shit for interrupting her fun when I told her I was desperately unhappy with the relationship and the incredible, irrational guilt-twisting plays on her part, and even when she was saying that 'It wasn't like that' and that she still cared despite signals more mixed and impenetrable than cement, which just dragged the whole sorry process on.

So we split up. She's now with him. She didn't have the courtesy to let me know. I was always too nice to have a proper go, telling myself that it was pointless. I wish I had. I think it would have helped.

I am enjoying being single though. You don't need to move on to someone else right away. I think I'm more confident these days, possibly as a result. So that's something good come out of it at least, since the rest of the memories are tarnished.
(Thu 21st Oct 2010, 17:29, More)