Crack.

Sometimes you just know that its going to be a nightmare week. The littliest things that should remain little somehow morph into something big for no real reason to make your week turn bad. Today it was the fact that the bus driver was so slow. I mean, seriously slow. Why? It was 6.10 in the morning...what possible reason was there for being slow? There is no traffic, no howling wind and rain and certainly no people to pick up en route to the city centre because only the mentally deficicent are up and about at that time. He was just being a cock. He knew that I was wanting to catch the early bus upto my new adopted city so that I could get in abit earlier in order to do my copying and cutting before for class. And thought it would be fun to be a knobhead and drive slowly. He drove so slowly that when I got off his snail of a bus, I had to dash to catch my other bus. I don't really do running and I certainly don't do running in the morning before the sun is even up but I did and that bothered me. So, I was abit hot getting on my new bus upto my new adopted city. I tried to cool down but it just so happened that the driver of this new bus had decided he was cold so had put the heating on FULL blast meaning that I couldn't cool down because of his selfishness and dar I say it, his age. Yes, old people like to be warm, don't they.

All this before 6.45am.
And then a full day of teaching.
Wonderful, this life.

deception

British Summer Time.
What's the point?

Is it because we're trying to be 'special' or something? Not overly impressed with it to be honest. I can't be doing with the darkness in the morning nor in the afternoon although if I had a choice, I would much rather it was dark in the morning but light in the afternoon.

Alas, its winter and that's another thing I can't be doing with. But you knew that anyway.

Released

the /in/famous speech from 'Scarface' seems to be bubbling to the surface of my consciousness nor readily that it has for awhile. The speech when they are eating dinner:

/to paraphrase/ is this it? is all i'm livin for.
your 50, you got tits and you're sitting eating this fucking shit.

Not overly concerned about the tits part but the first part is troubling me. Just seem to be killing time until something else comes along and its not really something that I'm good at. Bit impatient to be honest. I want that job, that salary, that stress. I'm tired of bideing my time though.
hmm.

gIVE

What i'd quite like to do if I didn't need to have a job, part 1:
Buy quite a good camera. It wouldn't need to be a top of the range one, nor a cheap thing either. Just something that I could take photos with, in a relatively high resolution. It should also have the function that allows me to take both colour and black and white photos. Once armed with my camera, I would just go about taking pictures. Not just of nouns, but adjectives and verbs as well. And not just in Edinburgh but whereever I quite fancied going. Clearly, I would need a bit of money to be able to do this especially if I wanted to go to some far off place and just take pictures. I would quite like to take people with me for company, that would be great. A week here or a couple of weeks there. Of course, other people might not see the point of just going around taking pictures and that is completely fair enough. Then, I think I would just put my pictures onto my website. If people wanted to visit it, then great. If they thought some of the pictures where good, then even better. Of they didn't want to visit, then I wouldn't lose sleep over it. I wonder though if I would ever get bored of just taking pictures of stuff I see. I probably would actually. But then to have a pictorial portrait of what you did would be remarkable. Seeing what I saw although not necessarily understanding why I took a particular picture. I wonder if that is a control thing? You only see what I want you to see.
Deep philosophical point that I'm not touching.

punch.

.
.
.......tomorrow never comes until its too late.

glam.

hmm.
teaching. sometimes good, sometimes bad. i can totally relate to why there is a mass exodus away from it. crap money being one of the primary factors. there's not money in being a teacher. in fact, are there any real prospects for improvement and promotion? not really. bit depressing, that thought. bit of a real-life, hardcore concern. to coin Alfie: what's it all about?

quite liking:
getting something akin to an income.
'dance with me' by the juan maclean.
the idea of getting a job with doesn't require thinking or doing it when you are outside of 'office hours'.
the idea of scotland doing something good.
the fact i've got a masters.
standing up for myself for once.
the ease with which it is to offend, castigate, moan and ignore electronically.
not much else.

quite not liking:
the strange lack of happiness in getting a masters.
commuting.
students.
spending time out of the class preparing for the class.
the grammitical complexities of the english lanugage haha.
looking for jobs.
writing cover letters begging for them to employ you.
getting knock-back cos my begging covering letters haven't convinced.
knowing you could do the job advertised but not getting the chance to prove it.
the end of summer.
darkness when I wake up.
the sunlight disturbing my 'sleep' on the bus to work.
not being able to sleep in an upright position.
my overdraft.
can't really find anything i want to listen to.
the fact i stood up for myself.
aloofness. my own.
+ others.

Crocodiles

footy:
Bit mental all this Euro qualifying lark. Last saturday saw what turned out to be quite a comprehensive win against the Ukraine. Somewhat unexpected but very welcome and saw us top of the table. Italy and France - where are you?

Thud.
Back to earth the following wednesday with defeat away to Georgia. How typically Scottish. Never really got going to be honest. Bullied particulary in the centre of midfield but also lacked the width down the flanks to get into forward positions. Disappointing that the right and left-backs couldn't do that.

I wonder though, that in some kind of perverse way that defeat to Georgia was actually a good thing. Had we won, we would have required a point in our final game against Italy. We are crap at things like that - playing for a point. At least now we know that we must win. And that win would be enough to qualify. I'm certainly much more comfortable with the black/white outcome of it. We know where we stand and we know what we must do. It might be that we were due a bad performance and I would much rather have had it against the Georgians than against the Italians when it really matters.

If...and its a big if, we get our strongest team out next month, I think we might sneak it. I'm not entirely convinced that Italy are a team that could withstand a Scottish onslaught - passion, pace and guts. With a bit of luck it will be pissing down with rain as well. Always a great leveller and something that would suit us. Of course, the first goal would be all important. The Italians have the ability to park the team coach infront of their goal should they score first. If we scored first, I think we could hold on.

Although, the pressure might just be too much. Heightened expectations are in evidence. We have over-reached to get to this point. If it finished with us coming 3rd, then nobody could argue that we 'failed'. On the contrary, we shouldn't be where we are. We should be out by now. The very prospect of us qualifying is a modern day minor miracle. That said, the Italians and the French have no god-given right to qualify...meanwhile we have no god-given right to think that we are second class footballers. The group table tends not to lie.

Meanwhile, the possibility that England might fail to qualify is a very real prospect. Results must go their way. The irony of ironies would be that we got there and they didn't. The 'golden' generation turning out to be something much less that that. It would be remarkable. Again, they have no god-given right to be there because they are 'England'.

Wales, N.Ireland= flatter to deceive as ever.
17th November. It could be our generations Scotland Vs. Wales at Anfield with Joe Jordans arm giving us a penalty to see us through. It could be our generations 'Wembley Wizards' or indeed a game that equals the Jim Baxter's keepy-uppy against England.

Alas, it could all go pear-shaped. Lets believe though...