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Thursday, May 22, 2008

The singing comes later



Had I any shreds of self respect left they would have been stripped away yesterday in Barcelona.

Arriving fairly early as I left for the opera straight from school I decided to buy the programme at once so that I could peruse it at my leisure as I partook of an unrushed meal before the marathon started.

I was ten days too early!

The teaching of my maths group has obviously had a knock on effect with my number recognition making 21 and 31 virtually indistinguishable!

Instead of the Wagnerian ordeal that I was expecting the only thing the Liceu could offer was a German ballet company presenting their version of ‘Death in Venice’.

During a more than acceptable meal in a Basque restaurant (though the bill doubled in the course of the meal) I debated with myself. Would seeing a modern dance ballet make up or compensate for a ‘wasted’ journey? As the meal dragged on, it began to look as though the start of the performance would see me still sitting on my hard chair watching the unending parade of peculiar people who traipse up and down the Ramblas. I made my decision: if the meal ended before the performance started then I would go in and watch the ballet.

The only ticket I was offered with a decent view was €93! All the other seats, at give-away prices like €53 (!) had appalling sightlines.

I went to PC City (PC World in Catalonia) instead. Luckily there were few gadgets there that I had not seen before and even fewer to tempt me. However, one attentive and fluent English speaking assistant engaged me in conversation and revealed that this Monday the store would be taking delivery of 7” micro computers. These are the Asus dirt cheap laptops with no moving parts –except the opening lid and the keys. The memory is derisory and they won’t run Vista but they are tempting. Very tempting! Though my previous description of ‘dirt cheap’ is not strictly true: when, after all, has any sane person paid a few hundred euros for a small rectangle of earth?

Nevertheless the poisoned thought of possession has been lodged in my brain and its creeping venom is making its way though my body and corrupting my mind. I hope to god that the keys are too small for my elegant but spatulate fingers to cope with. There again, should one really enthuse about 7”? I’ll leave that thought hanging, as it were!

In school we have little more than a month (allegedly) before the end of term. The kids will leave on the 20th of June (allegedly) and then there will be a series of dates on which the various types of teacher are allowed to escape back into the real world. This could range (after all we don’t really know the official end of the term, why should we?) from the 30th of June, through the 4th of July to the 8th July, with a possible extension to the somethingteenth of July for some, or all, or none. Confusing isn’t it? You try working in it!

The examination season is soon upon us. Today was the first stern test, augmented by horror stories by my good self, about what happens to those persons who do not play the examination game. They have little knowledge of how to behave during an important test. The idea of remaining silent for any length of time is foreign to their nature and they are even worse that a group of teachers when it comes to asking truly mindless questions about the extreme minutiae of any given situation.

I look forward to next week with mixed feelings as test follows test for the poor little buggers!

But one must remember that every week brings one closer to the end of term!

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