Well at 31 it seems I am finally growing up, Today was a relatively uneventful day. Lunch went without a hitch, my assistant had hers and left and I was left in full control again. Until the Biology teacher came in...
The Biology teacher is also the careers teacher and while I like him (I tend to like everyone) he does come across as being thoughtless. A few weeks ago he set a competition for the seniors as homework. Very laudable you may think, Except this one was for creating a paper aeroplane that flew the furthest, Guess who got the fall out from that little endeavour? Yes, you got it, us. You try explaining to a group of year 8 & 9s that the library is not really the place to test their new constructions out. You only get "...but Miss, it's homework!)
Anyway so today the same teacher walks into the library in what is supposed to be the extremely quiet time if not silent time and conducts a meeting with a pupil! Not only that but he talks with his normal speaking voice which in the silence of the library sounds like a gong repeatedly going off.
At the time I was trying to compose a letter to send out with some overdues. A tricky one as I wanted to set the right tone but I was finding it hard to concentrate with his voice droning on. I waited a few minutes getting extremely frustrated until I could take it no more. By this time the kid had gone to look up something on the conputer at the other side of the room so I took the opportunity to go to speak to the guy.
I'm quite proud at myself, I didn't yell and I sounded very composed. I just mentioned that I would appreciate some warning if he was going to have meetings in the library and that it was as if I decided to go into his room while he was teaching and started covering ibrary books. He laughed at that but I got my point across. He apologised and I took the opportunity to tell him about some books I had purchased for the library which he might be interested in.
So there you are. I actually stood up for myself instead of stewing in silence. I may be finally growing up...
Thursday, 28 February 2008
Wednesday, 27 February 2008
A good samaritan - (not me)
Walking to the bus stop from my school is not a long one. I can usually do it in about 6 minutes if I walk a bit faster. I rushed to the bus stop today and just missed the bus going the other way. Not a big deal as it turns around further down the road and picks me up to take me town after a few minutes.
Anyway, there I was standing squinting with all my might down the road for some head start to when it is coming. I've had bus drivers just drive past me in the past becaue I haven't put my arm out quick enough. The problem is I can't see the bus until it gets quite close, so its a bit stressful and requires a bit of concentration.
........................................
So you'll understand why I didn't spot it immediately. To someone of, shall we say, limited vision such as myself it just looked like a pile of clothes. I did stare at it for a couple of seconds to see if it moved - it didn't so I figured it was a pile of clothes after all. There is no WAY I'm getting closer to have a look. I'm partially sighted, slightly overweight with asthma. If that isn't a pile of clothes and something dodgy then there is no chance I will be able to get away.
Squinting hard into the distance, well a few yards to you guys, a large taxi draws up beside me.
"Hello love, is he OK?"
"I don't know, it hasn't moved." I say.
The taxi driver gets out and walkd over the pile. He talks really loudly,
"awright mate? Are you OK?:
"I', righ, leave me alone" comes the muffled reply.
The driver pulls him a little.
"Why are you sleeping in the bus stop?"
"s'tired" he mumbled.
The driver gives up and walks over to me.
"He's drunk."
"Shall I call an ambulance" I ask, remembering I have my mobile on my which I actually remembered to charge last night.
" No, I'll call the police."
The bus came, I got on and that was that. My little adventure for today.
Anyway, there I was standing squinting with all my might down the road for some head start to when it is coming. I've had bus drivers just drive past me in the past becaue I haven't put my arm out quick enough. The problem is I can't see the bus until it gets quite close, so its a bit stressful and requires a bit of concentration.
........................................
So you'll understand why I didn't spot it immediately. To someone of, shall we say, limited vision such as myself it just looked like a pile of clothes. I did stare at it for a couple of seconds to see if it moved - it didn't so I figured it was a pile of clothes after all. There is no WAY I'm getting closer to have a look. I'm partially sighted, slightly overweight with asthma. If that isn't a pile of clothes and something dodgy then there is no chance I will be able to get away.
Squinting hard into the distance, well a few yards to you guys, a large taxi draws up beside me.
"Hello love, is he OK?"
"I don't know, it hasn't moved." I say.
The taxi driver gets out and walkd over the pile. He talks really loudly,
"awright mate? Are you OK?:
"I', righ, leave me alone" comes the muffled reply.
The driver pulls him a little.
"Why are you sleeping in the bus stop?"
"s'tired" he mumbled.
The driver gives up and walks over to me.
"He's drunk."
"Shall I call an ambulance" I ask, remembering I have my mobile on my which I actually remembered to charge last night.
" No, I'll call the police."
The bus came, I got on and that was that. My little adventure for today.
Friday, 22 February 2008
Recognition at last
One of the major problems working in a school library is you don't get the recognition for what you've achieved which can get a bit demoralising. My way round this is to write reports to the senior management telling them how great I am with examples.
It seems this has paid off along with some persistance from my colleague. My assistant is paid appallingly and she really needed a pay rise. She's a great worker, really intelligent, goes over and above the call of duty and can keep the kids in line. What more could a school ask for!
Anyway she put a package together putting her strengths in, the recommended wages for an assistant librarian and a spectacular performance review from me. Turns out they are going to pay us BOTH more in September. Yeeha for the Librarians.
Another note, how do other librarians out there advertise their book fairs? I have spent the morning stuffing 100s of envelopes with an invitation, competition entry, World Book Day voucher and other blurb. My assistant created a poster for the competition - to be honest she created the competition too (I did one last year) and we've put up book fair posters as well. On the plus side I am going to be really muscular in my arms from filling envelopes by the time this thing is finished!
It seems this has paid off along with some persistance from my colleague. My assistant is paid appallingly and she really needed a pay rise. She's a great worker, really intelligent, goes over and above the call of duty and can keep the kids in line. What more could a school ask for!
Anyway she put a package together putting her strengths in, the recommended wages for an assistant librarian and a spectacular performance review from me. Turns out they are going to pay us BOTH more in September. Yeeha for the Librarians.
Another note, how do other librarians out there advertise their book fairs? I have spent the morning stuffing 100s of envelopes with an invitation, competition entry, World Book Day voucher and other blurb. My assistant created a poster for the competition - to be honest she created the competition too (I did one last year) and we've put up book fair posters as well. On the plus side I am going to be really muscular in my arms from filling envelopes by the time this thing is finished!
Thursday, 21 February 2008
Job hunting...
That's it, i've decided to go for another job. In fact I've got an interview next week which got me thinking about other interviews I've done in the past. One of the funniest I thought I would share with you. its a bit long though, so make sure you have time to read it!
Rhyl Interview
I had an interview in Rhyl at Rhyl Community College a few years ago. After arriving in London Euston, I discovered utter chaos - a train was late. Luckily and unusually for me the train arrived the same time as I did – and it was going my way. So far so good…
I arrive in Rhyl surrounded by a mixture of Liverpudlians and Welsh. Strangely I thought, there seemed to be more Liverpudlians...
Getting off the train late I followed the crowds over the small internal bridge towards the exit. As I passed a bin, I paused to put my rubbish in. When I look up everyone is gone. This is the largest platform I have ever seen. In fact it stretches for as far as I can see and no-one in sight - I don’t where the exit is!
Hmm, I calm myself down and start walking down the platform, first I try the door to the Ticket Office - locked. I continue down the platform, but there doesn’t seem to be another exit. I start to walk back thinking that perhaps I didn’t try all the doors to the Ticket Office after all.
A man comes up to talk to me. He is tall, slim with a strong Welsh accent. He asks me if I was looking for the exit. I reply in the yes feeling quite stressed at this point. He leans close and points the way out to the far end of the platform. He seemed to be slightly too close for comfort though... and then I realise – he’s looking down my top!
He does however tell me the right way to get out. I thank him hurriedly and continue on my way.
My first impressions of Rhyl i have to admit are not good. It seems a small town, slightly dingy but I can live with that _ or so I hoped.
Using a map I downloaded from the internet, I try to fathom the way to the Guest House which I had booked the week earlier.
The nearer I get to the guest house the dirtier the streets appear. Oh, MY GOD, what have I got myself into! Crisp packets, chip wrappers and cans line the street. Shops are boarded up, yet I bravely soldier on.
Finally I reach the guest house. I had booked this for a bagain price of £18 for the night. Disconcertingly, it says ‘look before you book’ on the sign by the door.
Are things that bad here then?
I knocked apprehensively on the door and the door all but instantly opens. A nice middle aged lady stands before me (I find out she is nice later), at the moment she is brusque.
‘Please sign in’ she says, so I shrug and do. Looking around the guest house, I thought, Okay. Not the four star Bude Haven Hotel I had been in a few weeks before but I can live with this (well for the requisite night anyway).
She indicates for me to follow her and with trepidation I follow her up the stark narrow staircase. She takes me to a shoe box known as the single room I booked. It is furnished simply but thankfully it IS clean. I take the opportunity to ask her what it is like to live in Rhyl. I mentioned that I had felt disappointed when walking to the B&B.
Her reply was not quite what I was expecting. She said that while the B&B was in the nice part of the road, (the road led to the sea front), it was quite a bad area.
I wasn’t going to go out by myself that night was I. she asked. Thinking well I wasn't going to now, I asked why. She replied that it was nice where she was and her daughter managed the B&B next door but nearer the sea front, all the flats had been bought by absent landlords and that it was known to have drug problems. Suitably warned I replied I had no plans to go out that night.
I think she then realised that at this point I was quite freaked out. She offered me a lift to the college n the morning. I quickly took her up on the offer before she changed her mind.
I was really getting quite hungry at this point, I had last eaten lunch that afternoon in London and it was now getting dark. For food she gave me directions to the local chippie at the right end of the road, so I set off.
Ten minutes later I arrived at the chippie where there was a queue of four. Normally this a good sign, (it shows that people like it), but as I had not seen an open chippie on the way to the guest house, this was probably the only one available.
A few minutes later one of the customers asked for a kebab. The boy said he was very sorry but he didn’t have any in, did he want anything else? They got pie and chips. The next people asked for chicken and chips. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any chicken either. The customer left with pie and chips. The next asked for sausage and chips, again "Sorry, how about pie and chips?" I was next.
‘Could I have some fish and chips please?’ thinking they were bound to have that. In a broad Liverpool accent I was told they didn’t have any but they could put it on. At first I couldn’t understand him, so I said ‘sorry, you don’t have any?’
He then stepped towards the freezer and I worked out that as what he meant. I replied ‘Yes please!’
What a palaver!! Leaving fifteen minutes later with my prize, I escape to the privacy of my room at the guest house. In case you are wondering. It was the worst fish and chips I had ever eaten. It was rank and the chips tasted like they were cooked in fat several days old.
Feeling disheartened, I have a moan to my friends back in London about Rhyl and then go to sleep setting my watch and phone as alarm clocks – after all I had an interview in the morning!
I woke at seven, pick up my clothes and go in search of the shower. I should point out that I was the only one staying at the hotel the night previously, well me and the workmen anyway.
I stripped down and stepped into the shower cubicle, (don’t worry, I wont’ go into too much detail here!)
I press a button and wait for the expected torrent. Nothing. Ok, I press another button. Nothing happened. With mounting anxiety I pressed the last button, again nothing. I looked around the cubicle, turned the heart knob, then the valve, also nothing. I have approximately 45 minutes to get ready before this poxy interview and I can’t even get the bleeding shower to work.
I put on the dress I wore the night before and head downstairs to where I knew the Manageress lived. Several knocks on the door with no response send me climbing up the stairs swearing under my breath.
I should mention again here that I am partially sighted. My eye-sight has a lot to be desired. In a tantrum born off desperation I stalk into the shower room again, stomp right to the end of the room where a string knocks me on the head. I grab it and the shower starts – EUREKA!!
Having made myself barely presentable with a shirt, skirt, make-up and freshly dried hair, I hear the bell for breakfast. Great, I’m starving, I head back downstairs in my bare feet.
Mmm, lovely – there’s nothing like tinned sausages, mushrooms and runny egg to get you going first thing in the morning. Well at least the toast was nice.
Luckily the Manageress had offered me a lift with her husband, so after getting ready I packed my bag and got into a car with a complete stranger.
Considering the family had only lived there for several years I was quite surprised that we got lost. Although there were hardly any people out that early in the morning, we asked tow people for directions. However, neither knew where the local college was. Each had a Liverpudlian accent.
Arriving at the interview in a relatively calm state of mind, (I was fifteen minutes early), I was told to sit down in the corner and wait for the interviewer.
There was one other person apart from myself there We quickly got to know each other. Her name was S--- and she originally came from Ireland. She lived with her soon-to-be-husband who was Welsh and a policeman.
Shortly, the rest of the motley crew (interviewees) joined us. There was a lady who lived in America but wanted to return to Wales, S--- obviously and two internal candidates. One Z---, was a slightly larger lady who seemed really nervous, standing beside her was D---, smartly dressed in a suit.
Once we had all got acquainted the interviewers came to greet and give us the grand tour of the building. This didn’t tae long.
After visiting the library which was a lot smaller than I had imagined, we were all shown into a classroom which was a make-shift camp for the day. Tea and coffee was provided but to our horror – no biscuits!
The format of the interview was for there to be individual presentations given by us to the panel of three and then we were to be short-listed again for a more indepth interview.
I had spent 2 hours on my presentation – with beautiful diagrams on the hand-outs. I had also made cards the night before. I felt the presentation went well and indeed I was short-listed for the actual interview. One step closer!
With me, S--- and D--- also offered the interview, the other two left. We hung around the classroom chatting, surfing the internet and generally killing time. After a short wait, my name (closest to A) was called first. …the fun began.
Thirty-forty minutes later, I left the room to join who I fast was starting to think were friends.
For lunch D--- who was the internal candidate showed me where the canteen was. I had a runny egg sandwich, an apple and a diet coke – mmm, delicious, NOT!
At the designated time, we trooped back into the classroom and then the main interviewer entered the room.
‘D---, please could you follow me?’ she asked, then ‘You two stay there!’ Charming – we know who got the job then. I could be called cynical (and it wouldn’t be the first time) but I wonder if it was completely a coincidence that D---‘s line manager was on the panel. So this was my second interview for my plan to return to Wales.
Ironically - I am now trying to go back to England. A traitor to my home country? maybe, but I go where the work and the prospects are.
Rhyl Interview
I had an interview in Rhyl at Rhyl Community College a few years ago. After arriving in London Euston, I discovered utter chaos - a train was late. Luckily and unusually for me the train arrived the same time as I did – and it was going my way. So far so good…
I arrive in Rhyl surrounded by a mixture of Liverpudlians and Welsh. Strangely I thought, there seemed to be more Liverpudlians...
Getting off the train late I followed the crowds over the small internal bridge towards the exit. As I passed a bin, I paused to put my rubbish in. When I look up everyone is gone. This is the largest platform I have ever seen. In fact it stretches for as far as I can see and no-one in sight - I don’t where the exit is!
Hmm, I calm myself down and start walking down the platform, first I try the door to the Ticket Office - locked. I continue down the platform, but there doesn’t seem to be another exit. I start to walk back thinking that perhaps I didn’t try all the doors to the Ticket Office after all.
A man comes up to talk to me. He is tall, slim with a strong Welsh accent. He asks me if I was looking for the exit. I reply in the yes feeling quite stressed at this point. He leans close and points the way out to the far end of the platform. He seemed to be slightly too close for comfort though... and then I realise – he’s looking down my top!
He does however tell me the right way to get out. I thank him hurriedly and continue on my way.
My first impressions of Rhyl i have to admit are not good. It seems a small town, slightly dingy but I can live with that _ or so I hoped.
Using a map I downloaded from the internet, I try to fathom the way to the Guest House which I had booked the week earlier.
The nearer I get to the guest house the dirtier the streets appear. Oh, MY GOD, what have I got myself into! Crisp packets, chip wrappers and cans line the street. Shops are boarded up, yet I bravely soldier on.
Finally I reach the guest house. I had booked this for a bagain price of £18 for the night. Disconcertingly, it says ‘look before you book’ on the sign by the door.
Are things that bad here then?
I knocked apprehensively on the door and the door all but instantly opens. A nice middle aged lady stands before me (I find out she is nice later), at the moment she is brusque.
‘Please sign in’ she says, so I shrug and do. Looking around the guest house, I thought, Okay. Not the four star Bude Haven Hotel I had been in a few weeks before but I can live with this (well for the requisite night anyway).
She indicates for me to follow her and with trepidation I follow her up the stark narrow staircase. She takes me to a shoe box known as the single room I booked. It is furnished simply but thankfully it IS clean. I take the opportunity to ask her what it is like to live in Rhyl. I mentioned that I had felt disappointed when walking to the B&B.
Her reply was not quite what I was expecting. She said that while the B&B was in the nice part of the road, (the road led to the sea front), it was quite a bad area.
I wasn’t going to go out by myself that night was I. she asked. Thinking well I wasn't going to now, I asked why. She replied that it was nice where she was and her daughter managed the B&B next door but nearer the sea front, all the flats had been bought by absent landlords and that it was known to have drug problems. Suitably warned I replied I had no plans to go out that night.
I think she then realised that at this point I was quite freaked out. She offered me a lift to the college n the morning. I quickly took her up on the offer before she changed her mind.
I was really getting quite hungry at this point, I had last eaten lunch that afternoon in London and it was now getting dark. For food she gave me directions to the local chippie at the right end of the road, so I set off.
Ten minutes later I arrived at the chippie where there was a queue of four. Normally this a good sign, (it shows that people like it), but as I had not seen an open chippie on the way to the guest house, this was probably the only one available.
A few minutes later one of the customers asked for a kebab. The boy said he was very sorry but he didn’t have any in, did he want anything else? They got pie and chips. The next people asked for chicken and chips. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any chicken either. The customer left with pie and chips. The next asked for sausage and chips, again "Sorry, how about pie and chips?" I was next.
‘Could I have some fish and chips please?’ thinking they were bound to have that. In a broad Liverpool accent I was told they didn’t have any but they could put it on. At first I couldn’t understand him, so I said ‘sorry, you don’t have any?’
He then stepped towards the freezer and I worked out that as what he meant. I replied ‘Yes please!’
What a palaver!! Leaving fifteen minutes later with my prize, I escape to the privacy of my room at the guest house. In case you are wondering. It was the worst fish and chips I had ever eaten. It was rank and the chips tasted like they were cooked in fat several days old.
Feeling disheartened, I have a moan to my friends back in London about Rhyl and then go to sleep setting my watch and phone as alarm clocks – after all I had an interview in the morning!
I woke at seven, pick up my clothes and go in search of the shower. I should point out that I was the only one staying at the hotel the night previously, well me and the workmen anyway.
I stripped down and stepped into the shower cubicle, (don’t worry, I wont’ go into too much detail here!)
I press a button and wait for the expected torrent. Nothing. Ok, I press another button. Nothing happened. With mounting anxiety I pressed the last button, again nothing. I looked around the cubicle, turned the heart knob, then the valve, also nothing. I have approximately 45 minutes to get ready before this poxy interview and I can’t even get the bleeding shower to work.
I put on the dress I wore the night before and head downstairs to where I knew the Manageress lived. Several knocks on the door with no response send me climbing up the stairs swearing under my breath.
I should mention again here that I am partially sighted. My eye-sight has a lot to be desired. In a tantrum born off desperation I stalk into the shower room again, stomp right to the end of the room where a string knocks me on the head. I grab it and the shower starts – EUREKA!!
Having made myself barely presentable with a shirt, skirt, make-up and freshly dried hair, I hear the bell for breakfast. Great, I’m starving, I head back downstairs in my bare feet.
Mmm, lovely – there’s nothing like tinned sausages, mushrooms and runny egg to get you going first thing in the morning. Well at least the toast was nice.
Luckily the Manageress had offered me a lift with her husband, so after getting ready I packed my bag and got into a car with a complete stranger.
Considering the family had only lived there for several years I was quite surprised that we got lost. Although there were hardly any people out that early in the morning, we asked tow people for directions. However, neither knew where the local college was. Each had a Liverpudlian accent.
Arriving at the interview in a relatively calm state of mind, (I was fifteen minutes early), I was told to sit down in the corner and wait for the interviewer.
There was one other person apart from myself there We quickly got to know each other. Her name was S--- and she originally came from Ireland. She lived with her soon-to-be-husband who was Welsh and a policeman.
Shortly, the rest of the motley crew (interviewees) joined us. There was a lady who lived in America but wanted to return to Wales, S--- obviously and two internal candidates. One Z---, was a slightly larger lady who seemed really nervous, standing beside her was D---, smartly dressed in a suit.
Once we had all got acquainted the interviewers came to greet and give us the grand tour of the building. This didn’t tae long.
After visiting the library which was a lot smaller than I had imagined, we were all shown into a classroom which was a make-shift camp for the day. Tea and coffee was provided but to our horror – no biscuits!
The format of the interview was for there to be individual presentations given by us to the panel of three and then we were to be short-listed again for a more indepth interview.
I had spent 2 hours on my presentation – with beautiful diagrams on the hand-outs. I had also made cards the night before. I felt the presentation went well and indeed I was short-listed for the actual interview. One step closer!
With me, S--- and D--- also offered the interview, the other two left. We hung around the classroom chatting, surfing the internet and generally killing time. After a short wait, my name (closest to A) was called first. …the fun began.
Thirty-forty minutes later, I left the room to join who I fast was starting to think were friends.
For lunch D--- who was the internal candidate showed me where the canteen was. I had a runny egg sandwich, an apple and a diet coke – mmm, delicious, NOT!
At the designated time, we trooped back into the classroom and then the main interviewer entered the room.
‘D---, please could you follow me?’ she asked, then ‘You two stay there!’ Charming – we know who got the job then. I could be called cynical (and it wouldn’t be the first time) but I wonder if it was completely a coincidence that D---‘s line manager was on the panel. So this was my second interview for my plan to return to Wales.
Ironically - I am now trying to go back to England. A traitor to my home country? maybe, but I go where the work and the prospects are.
Wednesday, 6 February 2008
Boys voluntarily tidying?
Just a short one today :-)
I was doing a late shift and there were three of four kids left in the library when another three walked in, two boys and a girl. They sat at the desk opposite from where I sit. They weren't being too noisy but there were some strange sounds coming from there so I looked over my monitor like a timid giraffe peaking over a fence.
One of the boys spotted me looking at him and changed tack from whatever he was doing.
Boy 1 says to Boy 2 "Boy 2, I dare you to tidy up the library!.
Interesting I think. I've not come across this before so I say, "What does he get if he does it?"
"A small bit of his dignity back" he replies with a snigger.
At this point I would never think in a million years that this is going to woek and then:
"OK" Boy 2 answers and promptly starts tidying up the library. Boy 1 looks me straight in the eye (that description is a bit of an exaggeration 'cos I can't see that far, but he was definitely looking in my direction) and says to me, "You owe me."
Now what should I have said to that?
P.S. Boy 2 spends about 15 minutes tidying up the library until I am actually impressed, sits down next to boy 1 who says in a deadpan voice, "You've actually lost dignity now".
Go figure.
Librarians 5, Children 3
I was doing a late shift and there were three of four kids left in the library when another three walked in, two boys and a girl. They sat at the desk opposite from where I sit. They weren't being too noisy but there were some strange sounds coming from there so I looked over my monitor like a timid giraffe peaking over a fence.
One of the boys spotted me looking at him and changed tack from whatever he was doing.
Boy 1 says to Boy 2 "Boy 2, I dare you to tidy up the library!.
Interesting I think. I've not come across this before so I say, "What does he get if he does it?"
"A small bit of his dignity back" he replies with a snigger.
At this point I would never think in a million years that this is going to woek and then:
"OK" Boy 2 answers and promptly starts tidying up the library. Boy 1 looks me straight in the eye (that description is a bit of an exaggeration 'cos I can't see that far, but he was definitely looking in my direction) and says to me, "You owe me."
Now what should I have said to that?
P.S. Boy 2 spends about 15 minutes tidying up the library until I am actually impressed, sits down next to boy 1 who says in a deadpan voice, "You've actually lost dignity now".
Go figure.
Librarians 5, Children 3
Monday, 4 February 2008
Should MPs be above the law
Not being a political monster I let most news about politicians just wash over me. Basically I don't care what politicians do in their spare time, or if they employ their family to help them run their campaigns. I mean good on them. If they can get someone to work extremely long hours without complaining, fair enough as long as they can actually do the work.
Still the latest news did put a chill down my spine. Today with all the covert surveillance our governments do, where any one of us can be watched and recorded on a whim just walking down the street, I think its ridiculous that MPs should think they are better than us and should be exempt.
As I tell the kids in the library there shouldn't be one rule for one person and another for someone else. MPs are elected to do a job and to be fair most of them do a good one. They work long hours and help a lot of people but that still doesn't put them above the law or above the rules that the rest of us live by.
I am completely shocked at the MPs attitude to the Wilson Doctrine (that MPs sholdn't be bugged). It is out of date and should be abolished in this day and age. They shouldn't be able to on one hand endorse keeping people in custody without charge for longer and longer amounts of time in the name of fighting terrorism but then say they are exempt from he same technology and techniques that caught those other people. that would be hypocritical.
...and that is the reason my friends why I don't like politicians. Once they are elected some of them think they are above everyone else. ...and what did they do to get this superhuman status, climb everest? become the first astronaut to get to Mars? perhaps cure the common cold? nope they managed to trick us into voting for them. Grrr....
Still the latest news did put a chill down my spine. Today with all the covert surveillance our governments do, where any one of us can be watched and recorded on a whim just walking down the street, I think its ridiculous that MPs should think they are better than us and should be exempt.
As I tell the kids in the library there shouldn't be one rule for one person and another for someone else. MPs are elected to do a job and to be fair most of them do a good one. They work long hours and help a lot of people but that still doesn't put them above the law or above the rules that the rest of us live by.
I am completely shocked at the MPs attitude to the Wilson Doctrine (that MPs sholdn't be bugged). It is out of date and should be abolished in this day and age. They shouldn't be able to on one hand endorse keeping people in custody without charge for longer and longer amounts of time in the name of fighting terrorism but then say they are exempt from he same technology and techniques that caught those other people. that would be hypocritical.
...and that is the reason my friends why I don't like politicians. Once they are elected some of them think they are above everyone else. ...and what did they do to get this superhuman status, climb everest? become the first astronaut to get to Mars? perhaps cure the common cold? nope they managed to trick us into voting for them. Grrr....
Sunday, 3 February 2008
Idiot Branding
I was reading the Times the other day when one of the articles particularly caught my eye for stupidity. Apparently, Woolworths, had a bedroom set made and marketed for kids.
Brilliant you might think what did it look like? Well it was white and pink, everthing a 6 year old girl could want in a bed combo. That is until you find out what it was called....
No, it wasn't Judy, or Annie or even Liz, Nope they chose Lolita! Of all the names they could have chosen that had the the worst.
When it was brought to 'Woollies' attention none of the staff had even heard of the name. To be honest though if Yahoo wasn't so absolutely terrible at keeping spam from my inbox I probably wouldn't have known about it either (I'm not in the habit of reading books from 1955 about child abuse). You would think though that they would do a quick Google check before branding something aimed at 6 year old girls!
By the power of irate mums from raisingkids.co.uk, 'Woollies' retracted the £395 sleeper. Hurrah for parents and common sense!
...and I thought the play bunny stuff was in bad taste!
Brilliant you might think what did it look like? Well it was white and pink, everthing a 6 year old girl could want in a bed combo. That is until you find out what it was called....
No, it wasn't Judy, or Annie or even Liz, Nope they chose Lolita! Of all the names they could have chosen that had the the worst.
When it was brought to 'Woollies' attention none of the staff had even heard of the name. To be honest though if Yahoo wasn't so absolutely terrible at keeping spam from my inbox I probably wouldn't have known about it either (I'm not in the habit of reading books from 1955 about child abuse). You would think though that they would do a quick Google check before branding something aimed at 6 year old girls!
By the power of irate mums from raisingkids.co.uk, 'Woollies' retracted the £395 sleeper. Hurrah for parents and common sense!
...and I thought the play bunny stuff was in bad taste!
Saturday, 2 February 2008
Friday blues...
Well, Friday was quite fun. I had to do the late shift as my assistant needed to do something that night. To be honest I don't mind its usually quiet on a Friday (relatively speaking that is!) Well, this friday was no different.
I got in the requuisite half an hour early (I hate public transport), actually 33 minutes early this time. Then again I suppose its better than being late.
First I went to check to see if the food had arrived in the kitchen, it hadn't so I toddled up to the library and thought I'd spend a quiet few minutes in the cupboard reading a book until my shift starts. I only get paid for working part-time hours and I tend to do more hours than that anyway so I get rebellious now and again and want to do the hours they pay me for. Foiled again, it's locked.
So I trundle along to the desk and my assistant waves her keys at me asking if I want to borrow them. At this point my rebelliousness wears off and I decide it won't kill me to give the school yet another 20 minutes of my time for free.
So the day goes pretty quickly, I'm still sorting out the careers section of the library. It's been neglected for several years. It's great if you want to find out what courses to study in Science in 1999 or what university was like in 1987 but some of the newer books are fewer and far between. Don't get me wrong there was the Student book 2006 and The big guide 2007 and 2008. The previous Librarian had bought some new books, but just never weeded the old stock.
So this is the task I set myself for this month, try to sort out the mess known as the careers library. [I always said I liked a challenge.] I managed to catalogue about 6 books by 4pm when the first influx of kids trickle in. I'm really proud of myself at this point!
First I had to stop and settle them down as soon as they came in. The boys go to one side of the room and the girls the other. Mainly because I had to split up the boys as soon as they came in but we won't go into that.
I was doing the usual, "please girls shush, you need to work quietly now." When one of the girls spots its me.
Each of us 'Librarians' has our favourites among the pupils and this girl is one of mine although we don't like to show it. She's cheeky but in a nice way. There's no malice and she is usually really funny if a little random.
Today, she spots me and goes "oh Librarian, it's you, High Five." and she lifts her hand up.
I shrug and lift my hand and she smacks mine in a high five movement. ..and before I can go back to the desk she gives me a great big bearhug. I freeze. This was really embarrassing for me. I usually have a personal space boundary of about a foot. I'm shy and I like to keep my distance.
This time I didn't have time to react so I just stood there with my arms to my side until she let go. I gave a quick nervous grin and scarpered back to the relative safety of my desk and shouted again at the boys who were chatting nearby.
At this point I'll revise my former statement in another post. I don't shout usually in the day time, but after school baby-sitting sessions are quite another matter.
A more cynical person could say this was a ploy. Now could it be that she gave me a hug so I would be nonplussed and wouldn't tell her off for talking or is she just a sweet girl with a lovable nature? You decide!
Librarians 4, Children 2
I got in the requuisite half an hour early (I hate public transport), actually 33 minutes early this time. Then again I suppose its better than being late.
First I went to check to see if the food had arrived in the kitchen, it hadn't so I toddled up to the library and thought I'd spend a quiet few minutes in the cupboard reading a book until my shift starts. I only get paid for working part-time hours and I tend to do more hours than that anyway so I get rebellious now and again and want to do the hours they pay me for. Foiled again, it's locked.
So I trundle along to the desk and my assistant waves her keys at me asking if I want to borrow them. At this point my rebelliousness wears off and I decide it won't kill me to give the school yet another 20 minutes of my time for free.
So the day goes pretty quickly, I'm still sorting out the careers section of the library. It's been neglected for several years. It's great if you want to find out what courses to study in Science in 1999 or what university was like in 1987 but some of the newer books are fewer and far between. Don't get me wrong there was the Student book 2006 and The big guide 2007 and 2008. The previous Librarian had bought some new books, but just never weeded the old stock.
So this is the task I set myself for this month, try to sort out the mess known as the careers library. [I always said I liked a challenge.] I managed to catalogue about 6 books by 4pm when the first influx of kids trickle in. I'm really proud of myself at this point!
First I had to stop and settle them down as soon as they came in. The boys go to one side of the room and the girls the other. Mainly because I had to split up the boys as soon as they came in but we won't go into that.
I was doing the usual, "please girls shush, you need to work quietly now." When one of the girls spots its me.
Each of us 'Librarians' has our favourites among the pupils and this girl is one of mine although we don't like to show it. She's cheeky but in a nice way. There's no malice and she is usually really funny if a little random.
Today, she spots me and goes "oh Librarian, it's you, High Five." and she lifts her hand up.
I shrug and lift my hand and she smacks mine in a high five movement. ..and before I can go back to the desk she gives me a great big bearhug. I freeze. This was really embarrassing for me. I usually have a personal space boundary of about a foot. I'm shy and I like to keep my distance.
This time I didn't have time to react so I just stood there with my arms to my side until she let go. I gave a quick nervous grin and scarpered back to the relative safety of my desk and shouted again at the boys who were chatting nearby.
At this point I'll revise my former statement in another post. I don't shout usually in the day time, but after school baby-sitting sessions are quite another matter.
A more cynical person could say this was a ploy. Now could it be that she gave me a hug so I would be nonplussed and wouldn't tell her off for talking or is she just a sweet girl with a lovable nature? You decide!
Librarians 4, Children 2
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