/rant. Stoopid rules for stoopid schools

I’ve been in a down phase this week, so no exploding turnips as yet. They are hiding under the bed, waiting for their chance to scare the crap out of someone.

Instead, a minor rant. Stoopid rules.

I thought my son’s current school was bad for silly rules just for the sake of it. No matter how hot it is, jumpers must not be tied around the waist. Oh they have a reason. Because it looks untidy. So my son either loses his jumper because he forgets where he put it down, or gets heatstroke. Parents may not use the convinient gate into the year two playground, but must walk aaalllll the way round to the other one. No reason for that one,( even the teachers think it’s silly) other than the headmaster likes petty rules. There are plenty of others, but I’ll only get annoyed if I write about them so….on to the secondary schools.

My son will be going up to secondary school( seventh grade for you yanks) in just over a year. But he won’t be able to go to the one round the corner. Oh no, that would be too simple. It turns out he headmaster has a thing about boy’s hair. He recently banned a boy from his school for having short braided hair ( cornrow is it?). All hair must be short ( not too short though, no skinheads here!) and no longer than just below the ears. No reason, except that is what he wants. Never mind the fact that for several hundred years all men had long hair, and that short hair for men has only become de rigeur since the first world war or so. Men have short hair, and no poofy braids either.

This is a problem for my son. His hair is long enough that it brushes the seat of his chair when he sits down. He hasn’t had it cut since he was old enough to say ‘I don’t want my hair cut’. He only gets away with it at his current school as they can’t differentiate between sexes ( and he always has it tied back neatly), but the local secondary schools are single sex. And he can’t have hair longer than just under his ears. He’s made the choice — he’d rather travel a long way to a different co ed school, where he won’t know anyone, than have his hair cut. But why should he? There is no sensible reason for the school to say he must not have long hair. If it was dangerous, then the sister girl’s school would ban long hair too. Will long hair sap his brain cells and make him less able to learn? Unlikely, he’s top of the class in English, maths and science. Will it make him badly behaved? Unlikely, his reports always come back that the only misbehavior he has is when he can’t resist talking to people ( usually because he’s already finished his work and is waiting for everyone else). Why should my son’s hair length be dictated by someone he’s not even met, for no reason other than fashion?

Stoopid rules.

/end rant

Other than that, no news, except I think my boobs are growing. I don’t usually bounce when I walk.

Dealing with weirdos

Out of nowhere, I found something to share. Weirdos.

Now working in customer service, you get a lot of odd people. People who grab a loaf and squeeze it to see if it’s warm, then won’t buy it because it’s squashed. People who think that wireless connections can transport electricity. People who treat you like you haven’t got two brain cells to rub together because you work in a shop. People who are just plain awkward.

And then you have your weirdos. One customer once asked me to spank his monkey for him( My answer? my hands are covered in doughnut oil and sugar. If swarfega turns you on…Then my manager threw him out). I was working in a bar when some guy leant over to grab my boobs with both hands — he got the drip tray over him. And today this charming man comes in, and as we’re waiting for his order to come in we’re chatting and it turns out he’s a voice actor — he ‘does’ a few current commercials for me, and it’s pretty funny. Then he says…’You know, you have the perfect voice for one of those sex lines.’ Um, what? Is that a compliment, or not? I laughed ( nervously) and then he came out with ‘Oh yeah, you’ve got the dirty laugh for it too.’ I could not let this one go. ‘You know, you look exactly like the kind of guy who’d know.’

At least this weirdo had the grace to look embarrased.

Introwhatsit

So here by popular demand ( OK three people, if you count the minus one of the Old Man, who reckons he’ll never see me now) is the blog of me, Julia. Or as otherwise known, KMQ, Kissmequick, or IdiotsRUs. I also answer to ‘You stupid woman!’ but only if said in a really bad french accent.

What is this blog for? I’m not sure. I suffer from borderline bipolar. When I’m on an upswing, there will be exploding turnips and all things silly. Possibly even killer pink frogs and a melted eyeball or two. When I’m on a low, this will be somewhere to record all the weird deep thoughts I have — it always helps to get them out. Sometimes they are even intelligent.

And what do I do? I write. It isn’t my paying job ( yet) but tbh I don’t define myself by the place I work, because a trained monkey could do it. I work there because it fits in with the kids ( I have 2) and I meet some wonderfully weird people there, who may just end up in a book. I’m not a trade counter assistant. I write therefore I am a writer. I write because I love to, because it makes me really think, and so that is who, and what, I am.

I also have a compunction for wrestling ( half naked men covered in muscles, sweat and baby oil — what’s not to like?), motorbikes, rugby ( Lol retired! *sniff*) and music. I get a break from all that thinking. My brain needs it — those two little brain cells get really hot and flustered otherwise.

So, I reckon this will probably do, for a start.

And maybe I’ll even remember to come back and do some more.