So, I'm going to start with an admission.
I am a total Scrooge. Christmas really gets to me. I find the entire thing irritatingly materialistic, I detest the fact that it starts in August, and tend to find the entire day a bit of a let down. I'm afraid that in my mind, Christmas is for Children and those hideously gooey couples who baby-talk to each other anyway.
All this lack of festive spirit is a bit of an issue when you run a Church Choir. Especially when that Church Choir, however well-meaning they are, are all a wee bit old and thus take not only a lot of rehearsal, but bless them, they need reminding of everything they've already learnt, every week. Age does that to you... So Music for Christmas must start at least a month in advance, and today we really went for it. I did my best to choose pieces I could bear, though I'm already somewhat limited by the fact that my Sopranos suffer from Too-Old-To-Sing-Soprano-Anymore Syndrome, so it has to be easy, bearable and not very high... Bless them though, tonight they really excelled themselves. They actually sounded like a proper choir at some points!
Highlight of the evening was probably when one of the younger members declared that the choir should have a Ceildh Evening in the new year. This left me in a sticky situation, as there was no way I could politely say that most of them were in no fit shape/age range to be dancing like wild things, and some of the older ones were looking a wee bit concerned at the idea of this. I'm just hoping and praying that something happens to put the lady in question off, or I'm going to be taking suggestions as to the best way to disrupt a Ceildh, on the grounds of Public Health...
In other news, I was today grilled by a delightful patient about how I managed to achieve such a 'funny voice' (I think she meant my accent...), and she then came out with the immortal line "Miss, you should get a boyfriend". I had not mentioned my lovelife, there was just an automatic assumption I didn't already have one!
Then I got to spend a fun afternoon Immunising Oranges against HPV. Yes, in these technologically advanced days, we still use oranges. Led to some interesting pre-immunisation questions "Do Oranges have a Deltoid Muscle?", "Do I really have to ask if the Orange maybe pregnant?!" (Yes, I did. Role Play with Oranges. Insert kinky joke here...).
It's been a bizarrely emotional couple of days, veering from being in floods of tears at some of the things kids have to go through, to building dens with rooms full of 4 year olds. So worth it though.
GJ xx
Tuesday 10 November 2009
Thursday 5 November 2009
Flavoured condoms, Crazy kids, and batty choir ladies...
After a 3 day delay, I have finally started placement as a School Nurse. When I say delay, more minor catastrophe which left me too embarrassed to leave the house (dramatic? moi?!). I awoke on Monday morning to find my face puffed up to Shrek-like proportions. To cut a long story short, no one knows why, or how, but they do now know that the best cure for this is random drugs cocktail, hang the nausea and hot flushes and very strange belly rumbling (which made a Sex Ed lesson this morning very interesting, I can tell you!).
So this morning was my first proper morning on the job. And as could really be expected by anyone with half a brain cell, the Metro was as ever, not to be relied upon to get there on time. Unfortunately, my half a brain cell was severely caffeine-deprived, and I was, as a result, half an hour late, and walked into a Year 7 Sex Ed lesson to hear the class of thirty shout "SCROTUM" in my direction. As telling offs go, it was pretty effective, and I spent the next half hour marking quizzes ("The word Puberty comes from the Latin for 'Hairy', True or False?*), shaking quietly to myself.
Then, my mentor made a classic mistake, as she would have realised had she known me at all. She left myself and the other student in an office full of teaching supplies, telling us to 'explore'. Within about 30 seconds, I had found a shelf of skin-coloured plastic penises. A few things should be mentioned at this point. The makers of plastic penises for condom-application training really don't help lower teenage pregnancy rates. The things are pretty small (and yes, I knew that from sight alone...). This has 2 obvious issues.
1)Teenage Boy: "Wow, mine's bigger than that! This officially means I'm well-endowed! The World must know, and soon! Let's go have some fun with my larger-than-average todger!"
2) Teenage Girl: "Oh god, that's bigger than the model was! I can't turn down an opportunity like this! It may be a once in a lifetime chance! I must quickly have this spotty teenage specimen in front of me then carve all the details in the door of the nearest public toilet!"
Anyhoo... next to the dangerously small penises, was a huge pile of condoms, of every variety you could imagine. Including flavoured condoms. Now frankly, I have never been tempted to try these. The idea of condoms, I can deal with, obviously. The amount I talk about them probably gives that away. But flavoured and in my mouth? Hmm. So given the chance to play with these, I obviously took it. (Blame the copious amounts of drugs still in my system). So my mentor walked in to find us putting condoms on these toy willies, and licking our fingers (well, I was barely going to lick the penis!). She seemed perfectly happy with this, and we ended up having a fun half hour combining flavours (though apparently I shouldn't recommend double-bagging, however logical it may sometimes seem...). Orange + Banana = a very nice TuttiFrutti smell. Can't say I licked the combo, but you get the idea. Tomorrow we'll try throwing mint into the mix.
The day ended with a lovely dinner with the inimitable best friend, Bear. When I say inimitable, I mean on the drinking front. One large glass of Red Wine, and she was heckling the waiters "YOU TWO LOOK LIKE BROTHERS!!!" - they were brothers, and blushed to exactly the same shade of pink. Bless. Sadly, I should not have had wine, as I discovered when I woke up at 9pm, having got back to my room at half 6, fully dressed (even shoes) on my bed. Classy. Drugs and Wine don't mix, kids.
So this is my blog, after I was told by OWD (Over-Worked Dish) that it would be a good idea. But then, this is the same man who thinks I'm a good idea, as is meeting my family, so maybe I should leave him to save the world and resort to the smile and nod "Yes Dear" technique. Do let me know.
GJ x
PS. Glow-in-the-dark condoms need charging in the light. Out of the packet. This leaves you with two options. Either put it on your unfortunate partner, and make him stand with his lightsabre-to-be under your desklamp, and try to say helpful things in the hope the moment isn't totally dead, OR Take it out of the packet before the good stuff gets going, stick it under you lamp (appearing pretty presumptuous and possibly terrifying him, and drying it out - ouch.
PPS. I have a lady in my choir who sends me charming emails about why exactly she can't make it to choir rehearsals and the like. When I say exactly, I receive a potted life-history weekly. So I thought I'd let you have a read...
"Hi
You were asking last evening which people would be here for Christmas.
It now looks as if we shall be in the village............that is as long as my son's pedigree cats can get into the local cattery. Its worse than getting your children in school !! Apparently one of the two local catteries has closed down and there is a waiting list for the remaining one......and "Frisco and Maddie" are 2nd on the list. It seems that my son's local friends and neighbours can't help as they too are away for Christmas. Keep your fingers crossed !! Otherwise we shall have to go south.
Re Midnight Mass, I won't be available for that service no matter what.
Love..."
My fingers are crossed for you and Frisco and Maddie. Really, they are.
*It's False, obviously. If you stopped to think about that, I expect to see you in Year 7 SRE Classes next week. Shame on you.
So this morning was my first proper morning on the job. And as could really be expected by anyone with half a brain cell, the Metro was as ever, not to be relied upon to get there on time. Unfortunately, my half a brain cell was severely caffeine-deprived, and I was, as a result, half an hour late, and walked into a Year 7 Sex Ed lesson to hear the class of thirty shout "SCROTUM" in my direction. As telling offs go, it was pretty effective, and I spent the next half hour marking quizzes ("The word Puberty comes from the Latin for 'Hairy', True or False?*), shaking quietly to myself.
Then, my mentor made a classic mistake, as she would have realised had she known me at all. She left myself and the other student in an office full of teaching supplies, telling us to 'explore'. Within about 30 seconds, I had found a shelf of skin-coloured plastic penises. A few things should be mentioned at this point. The makers of plastic penises for condom-application training really don't help lower teenage pregnancy rates. The things are pretty small (and yes, I knew that from sight alone...). This has 2 obvious issues.
1)Teenage Boy: "Wow, mine's bigger than that! This officially means I'm well-endowed! The World must know, and soon! Let's go have some fun with my larger-than-average todger!"
2) Teenage Girl: "Oh god, that's bigger than the model was! I can't turn down an opportunity like this! It may be a once in a lifetime chance! I must quickly have this spotty teenage specimen in front of me then carve all the details in the door of the nearest public toilet!"
Anyhoo... next to the dangerously small penises, was a huge pile of condoms, of every variety you could imagine. Including flavoured condoms. Now frankly, I have never been tempted to try these. The idea of condoms, I can deal with, obviously. The amount I talk about them probably gives that away. But flavoured and in my mouth? Hmm. So given the chance to play with these, I obviously took it. (Blame the copious amounts of drugs still in my system). So my mentor walked in to find us putting condoms on these toy willies, and licking our fingers (well, I was barely going to lick the penis!). She seemed perfectly happy with this, and we ended up having a fun half hour combining flavours (though apparently I shouldn't recommend double-bagging, however logical it may sometimes seem...). Orange + Banana = a very nice TuttiFrutti smell. Can't say I licked the combo, but you get the idea. Tomorrow we'll try throwing mint into the mix.
The day ended with a lovely dinner with the inimitable best friend, Bear. When I say inimitable, I mean on the drinking front. One large glass of Red Wine, and she was heckling the waiters "YOU TWO LOOK LIKE BROTHERS!!!" - they were brothers, and blushed to exactly the same shade of pink. Bless. Sadly, I should not have had wine, as I discovered when I woke up at 9pm, having got back to my room at half 6, fully dressed (even shoes) on my bed. Classy. Drugs and Wine don't mix, kids.
So this is my blog, after I was told by OWD (Over-Worked Dish) that it would be a good idea. But then, this is the same man who thinks I'm a good idea, as is meeting my family, so maybe I should leave him to save the world and resort to the smile and nod "Yes Dear" technique. Do let me know.
GJ x
PS. Glow-in-the-dark condoms need charging in the light. Out of the packet. This leaves you with two options. Either put it on your unfortunate partner, and make him stand with his lightsabre-to-be under your desklamp, and try to say helpful things in the hope the moment isn't totally dead, OR Take it out of the packet before the good stuff gets going, stick it under you lamp (appearing pretty presumptuous and possibly terrifying him, and drying it out - ouch.
PPS. I have a lady in my choir who sends me charming emails about why exactly she can't make it to choir rehearsals and the like. When I say exactly, I receive a potted life-history weekly. So I thought I'd let you have a read...
"Hi
You were asking last evening which people would be here for Christmas.
It now looks as if we shall be in the village............that is as long as my son's pedigree cats can get into the local cattery. Its worse than getting your children in school !! Apparently one of the two local catteries has closed down and there is a waiting list for the remaining one......and "Frisco and Maddie" are 2nd on the list. It seems that my son's local friends and neighbours can't help as they too are away for Christmas. Keep your fingers crossed !! Otherwise we shall have to go south.
Re Midnight Mass, I won't be available for that service no matter what.
Love..."
My fingers are crossed for you and Frisco and Maddie. Really, they are.
*It's False, obviously. If you stopped to think about that, I expect to see you in Year 7 SRE Classes next week. Shame on you.
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