Well, it's fast approaching that time of year again, where bloggers the world over pause, think and reflect on the year that was. And what a strange 12 months it turned out to be.

Put bluntly, it has been one of the strangest, most difficult years of my life. I have never been so stressed, or had more things to laugh about in previous years. So over the next life of such entries, I will re-live three of the more interesting, and at times more challenging parts of the year that was two thousand and six.

Probably one of the biggest events for me, was being 'released' into Asquith Girls High for my year long teaching prac. What a strange experience that was.

I now know what it feels like to be the hot mini-skirt wearing blonde walking past a construction site... teaching was my first true experience with sexual harassment. On my very first day, a year nine girl shouted at me across the quad.

"Yeah boy!! Work that Booty!!". For goodness sake! I was on playground duty... with another teacher... a 50 year old female teacher. I guess it is Karma in some ways... we had a female teacher at my high school, who we thought had a big backside. So one lunch our group attempted to measure it... imagine, a group of students wandering around the basketball courts with rulers, secretly trying to measure the teachers butt while she was on playground duty, without getting caught and suspended.

But the year nine girl wasn't the end of the female attention. Oh no.

My master teacher became an instant celebrity after my arrival. With students spelling out her surname YMCA style in the playground, with a full repertoire of chanting and waving.

My fame affected other teachers in my department too. Students began offering the other teachers bribes and chocolates, trying to get me into their classrooms to teach.

I'm surprised that some of these kids learned anything at all... other than business and boardroom negotiation skills. Some of them made me a card when I left... out of their workbooks. I guess I can't be too picky... a card is a card.

I still see my former students around regularly. I'm related to 2 of them, my brother is dating another, and some live in my street. I'm surrounded.

Sometimes they smile, sometimes they even wave. Sometimes they shout at me and get all excited. Other times they just ignore me, or even give me death stares from behind the counter at Ali Baba kebabs. It's hard to look tough in those white uniforms, with the little white cap and a handful of tabouleh and homus. Seriously.

Anyways, that is life relived number three.