Conversation between my friend’s 6 year old twins recently:
M: Did God make Father Christmas?
T: No, God and Father Christmas are the same!
M: No they’re not, God’s got a brown beard and Father Christmas has a white beard!
Am feeling like this is about my current theological level 🙂
So, as many of you know I am currently tutoring on a distance-learning university course. This involves, amongst other things, setting questions to be discussed by the students in an online discussion forum. Up till last week this was just with my own students, but as we’ve moved into the second block of the course each tutor group teams up with two other groups to fill the discussion out a bit with more people participating.
Last week was the first week of this larger group, led by one of the other tutors (we take it in turns so we only have to do one week in three as lead tutor). The discussion was pretty good, and the students seemed to be interacting really well.
This week it’s my turn. The activity is meant usually to relate to the topic which is being studied that week (each unit is meant to take just a week, and then the students move on to the next one), so last week I sat down with the course material so I could read about the topic and think up an activity. Imagine my joy when I discovered that all of this week the students will be learning about my favourite topic.
How my heart
sank leapt for joy. Regular readers will no doubt remember my utter antipathy to this topic, second only to the even more evil role play. Actually, in all honesty I laughed when I saw it. This, my friends, is irony at its finest.
The activity has been up a couple of days now, so I popped into the forum this evening to see how it was going.
Not a single student has posted anything at all. Not a word. Obviously they love it as much as their tutor.
Normally I would be getting all paranoid about being a terrible tutor and not motivating my students. But in this case, I feel strangely vindicated.
This news story about an English translation company trying to recruit translators who understood Glaswegian caused some amusement (not to mention bemusement) up here a few weeks ago. I was reminded of it this week at work, listening to my colleagues talking to clients in the clinic and also amongst themselves about jags. For the uninitiated, ‘jags’ is what they call ‘jabs’ (injections) up here – all over Scotland, not just Glasgow. And it got me thinking – saying ‘jags’ doesn’t come at all naturally to me, but it is the term that is used by politicians, professionals and most importantly the people I’ll be working with, so it would make most sense for me to use it. But it feels so unnatural, I almost feel when I say it like they’ll think I’m taking the ****, putting on a cod Scottish accent, wearing a See You Jimmy hat (complete with comedy ginger hair) and adding “the noo” onto the end of my sentences. Of course in reality they probably won’t notice it at all or give it a second thought, but I’ve found myself really agonising over it! It’s the weirdest thing.
Last weekend I bought a job lot of tops and trousers to wear to work, so obviously today was the first time any of them got an outing. Firstly, I think the shop was using one of those mirrors that makes you look thinner than you are, as I’m sure I didn’t notice those bulges I spotted today when I tried them on in the changing room. And secondly, it transpires that when I walk my work trousers make my pants fall down. *blush*
A bit of random and pointless fun here, this is a quite freaky test to see if you use primarily the left or right side of your brain. When I first saw this earlier today I could only see the figure going clockwise, however hard I tried to concentrate on seeing the anti-clockwise. This apparently indicates a right brain preponderence (touchy-feely, rather than scientific-rational kind of thing). This evening I looked again and the first 10 or 15 seconds it was very definitely anti-clockwise (left brain), but then suddenly seemed to switch back to clockwise, and now that’s all I can see again. It’s very freaky!
I vaguely remember several years ago hearing (or perhaps reading) something about regional accents in BSL (British Sign Language). I find that fascinating. This week I was reminded of it whilst reading some stuff on facebook. I am friends with a few teenagers (one from madchurch, who I remember when she was a bump!, and also a couple of cousins of mine) there, and they tend, more often than not, to post their status updates in txtspk. As most of you probably know, once you post a status update people can comment on it, and they can end up being a bit of a conversation.
So the other day I saw a status update from my 15 year old cousin, and the ensuing conversation between her and one of her classmates. All of it in txtspk. And as I read it, I suddenly realised – I could “hear” the Northamptonshire accent as I was reading! How freaky is that?!
By me, last night (this will make no sense to anyone apart from me and HD, and I’m sure if we read it in years’ time we’ll have no idea what it was about, but it made us laugh so much I wanted to preserve it for posterity):
“The logical progression from otters to cake made perfect sense, in my world”.
…. did I manage to pull a shoulder muscle quite so badly (or, in fact, at all) just by sitting at my desk?
Yesterday someone found this blog by searching for “brockley and stilton soup”. Tee hee! 🙂
Today the university was closed as we have a local bank-holiday-of-sorts today (we have another in September as well, living here does have its perks! But then we don’t get the August bank holiday in Scotland at all). So I had good intentions of working from home today, and to be fair I did do a bit.
The thing about working from home, is that when you’re faced with the temptation of having a siesta, there’s a bed to facilitate it. At least after lunch at work when I feel sleepy I have to work through the post-lunch snooziness.
Oh dear. Until relatively recently, if I went and had a little nap I could almost set my watch by the fact that I would wake up an hour later. These days? Two hours minimum.
[What I have done, is decided to change the article I recently wrote for one journal and submit it to another one instead, and have decided which one. Have decided it’s not quite suitable enough for the theme of the special issue I originally wrote it for, but with some tweaking it would be more suitable for another journal which I think would be more helpful for health-related job applications. So I have achieved something today. Foucault is still waiting accusatorily though, waiting to be read.]