Sunday, January 22, 2006

Reasons I have given up smoking #6

I drank a whole lot of white wine and some gin last night with Lovebird and Connor, another non-smoker, and my head is completely clear because there was no smoke in the room.. Smoking makes your hangover much harder to control; you are less aware of how drunk you're getting and that muggy fuzzy head you get the morning after can't be cured by normal hangover cures like coffee, fruit, fry-ups or paracetemol. (I'm still on some kind of health kick so I just had a grapefruit this morning instead of some greasy breakfast.) Here's what I said the morning after:
"There's no room for class in my ideal society. Or money, come to think of it. Flatmatewas wasted last night and declaiming that the ruling classes are a necessary part of any society; a hierachical (good word, huh) structure is needed for those workers who cannot make their own choices or motivate themselves to improve. How did I wind up living with such a reactionary pile of nonsense? His girlfriend (who hasmoved in for a few months) buys the Daily Mail. I guess Flatmate needs to justify the fact that he works for his Daddy, a confirmed member of the ruling classes who has made his fortune out of pushing up theprice of poor-quality housing for all Londoners. Prat. Last night.I stayed home to work and didn't do a single bit of my assignment, due in Tuesday. Then Lovebird and his adorable friend came in plastered so we had a few drinks and the two of them slow-danced together to the Beatles. Thank God I'm coming to the end of my course. Actually I can even fail this one and still pass the whole thing. Maybe I won't do it at all... do you know any good games/activities/tasks to improve intermediate reading or listening skills? Don't worry about your social faux-pas... I went to a librarian party on Friday, said it was dry to the woman running it, slagged off the DJ (a tutor whose lesson I had to observe the next day) within his earshot, made a sarky remark about strings of emails to the woman I have to get a teaching job off (who never answered the hundreds of emails I sent her before I started the course), called a senior tutor the devil and laughed at his dancing and finally got rollicking drunk in front of my boss and said he was so cute I'd like to put him in my pocket. I'm never gonna make Head Librarian at this rate. But I did have a good time. I'm going on a trip with an ESOL class next week, on a boat up the Thames and walking around the Pool of London (Tower Bridge to London Bridge). Then we're having a sleepover at my work; I get paid to sleep.What an exciting life I do lead. My tutor gave me a real bollocking on Thursday when we fed-back about the lessons we taught. My lesson was actually better than everybody else's, which she admitted, but I guess she's on to me. Once more I had to hear a whole lecture about wasted potential and not enough effort, just like being back at school. Hello, I work seventy hours a week! I'm doing what I have to do to pass the fucking course, sue me if my lessons could be better. I'd rather sleep occasionally. "

3 comments:

woodscolt said...

http://www.guardian.co.uk/arts/critic/feature/0,,1667170,00.html

'Sink-estate reportage' is my favourite phrase from this interview.

Still, nice he's doing well.

woodscolt said...

Oh, it cut off some of the URL. I'll email you the link.

Sicily said...

the video's actually quite good...he's still a middle-class thug though.