July 2006 Archives

I was in the staffroom this morning, getting some lessons ready for the day, when one of the other staff members walked in, said Hi and walked out. Now that is FINE under normal circumstances. But this was a little abnormal...

As she walked out, I thought "Gee, the colours in her dress dont match... the tan colour over her backside doesnt work with the longer black part." The unfortunate abnormality was that the tan part over her butt, actually WAS her bottom... Her skirt (made from a slippery sheer material) had managed to work its way down to her thighs, exposing her 50 year old backside in all its glory. Did I mention she had absolutely no idea, and was walking up and down the corridors??

No? Well she had no idea. And I couldn't think of a way to bring it up, and no one else was around to save me... so I did what ever self respecting male would do.

Hid behind the bookcase for the next 5 minutes laughing.

DO NOT giggle when I walk past in the corridor. Do not smile and giggle. Do not jump out of the entrance way to the girls toilet, yell out that your friend thinks im cute, and jump back inside the safety of the girls toilet and start giggling. In short, any activity that involves girls giggling should be banned.

Do not wolf whistle from the back of the classroom when I bend over to pick up the chalk off the desk. Even if I do 'Bend and snap' like a pro, keep your whistles to yourself.

Do not follow me around the shopping centre saying "Mr Dance Mr Dance". Remember, when the tables turn, and you are in my class, you will be getting well acquainted with the wall in the corridor.

Do not flirt, flutter your eyes, smile sweetly and *introduce* yourself as if I am actually even CLOSE to your age. What an embarressing moment it is when you realise Im your teacher. Embarressing for YOU that is.

I was looking at various football jerseys tonight on Ebay, and came across the most unusual shirt I have ever seen. For those of you 'astute' enough to see the picture and understand, you will see a few conflicting elements to this jersey.

1) It is a socceroos jersey. Well done.

2) The name on the back is of an Italian player.

3) 'Grosso' is the Italian number 3 player that dived over Lucas Neil, winning Italy the penalty that knocked Australia out of the world cup.

Whats more interesting, is that the Thai person auctioning these jerseys off, actually thinks Grosso is an Australian player. And as the dust settles on the tournament, my sleep patterns slowly return to normal.

About time.

Well, its all been done. The wedding is over, the guests have gone, and my sister has a different name. Not without its cock-ups mind you.

The night before the wedding, I was in my cousins rented mansion, admiring the decor in the living room. Couches lined the wall, facing the TV and Bar at one end of the room, and at the other end, a massive executive board meeting table that could seat up to 14 or more people imposed itself.

In the middle, just near the doorway, a bench, covered in a large pearl drape separated the two halves of the room. I stared at the drape, and the way it protected the warmer 'feel' of the lounge area. I thought I'd unleash my interior decorator on my aunty.

"That drape is strange... unusual, but it just works"

"Thats your sisters wedding dress."

"Ooooopps."

Still, the wedding was great. My speech went down really well with the crowd. At least I didn't get boo'ed, or hear crickets after my jokes. Although the 'rod' joke might have benifited from a little more champagne amongst the masses.

Oh, and Elissa... if your reading this from Tasmania... Rachael really does want to know if she can start moving your stuff out of her new room.

Things have been a little crazy over the past few weeks at home. Real crazy. You see, we are gearing up for my sisters wedding, the first of my sibblings to tie the knot. Tomorrow, 'Elissa May Dance' becomes 'Elissa Ellis'. I find both names quite amusing really. At least I will always remain 'Will John Dance'.

There have been the usual drama's with the brides dress, fittings for the bridesmaids, organising venues, marque hire, and all the other 'wedding-related' stuff. Crazy.

But on the light side, I have been asked to do a speech at the wedding, on behalf of the kids in our family. Which gives me a prime example to talk to over 100 guests about Brendans fishing exploits, and about how he couldn't catch a single fish, even though he had been fishing since 5am, and rather than go home empty handed, he took 2 little fish from an old Chinese man to look good. Well, goodish.

There is something biblical to be said about the 5 loaves and 2 small fish that Brendan brought us that day.

Well, I shall keep you posted.