Watch out for the headlines: 'OU TUTOR SUICIDE'. The story will go on to explain how, due to an early submission of atrocious poetry by one of her students, the tutor felt she could no longer go on teaching imbeciles and had to end it all.
Yes, the poetry assignment has been sent, and my computer is begging me to delete its memory. The work wasn't due in for another three weeks, but the more I tinkered, the worse the poetry got. Both Ms Fab and Mr Chaos have won prizes in poetry competitions, I've found out, but I know I'll never reach those dizzy heights. Ms Fab was nine when she won hers, and, she tells me, she got to meet the Mayor of Macclesfield. Sigh....
I went for free verse in the end. In other words, I wrote a few sentences, chopped them into bits and set them out in an arty-looking way. After scattering a few commas about, it looked like something the year 3's would have written, which meant I'd improved it quite a lot. I had tried. Kind of. Actually, no, I hadn't at all. I went into this assignment with a bad case of can't-be-bothered-ness and if I get a crappy mark, I deserve it. Poetry sucks, especially when I've written it. (Apart from Philip Larkin.)
(Photo: http://www.despair.com/hope.html)
And now I can move on to life writing. I either want to find some obscure and faintly disturbing person to write about, or do autobiography (which is not the same thing, thank you.)
Speaking of Ms Fab (meaning the poetry prize bit, not the thing about faintly disturbing people) I've had a couple of readers asking about her. She has fans, and rightly so. I'm one of them.
Ms Fab and I are in shock as the person who runs the Brownies is thinking of retiring. We were kind of preparing for it (see earlier post on dragging Brownies into this century). It's one of those things we thought, 'Won't it be good when...', but now we realise it will mean we'll actually have to do things. We'll have to pretend to be responsible and organised. We'll have to go to meetings. These meetings are what I imagine Over 60's clubs are like. You have to take your shoes off when you go in these hearty ladies' houses, and drink tea out of little china cups and try not to get your finger stuck in the handle. We had a hilarious email inviting us to a 'Games and Giggles' evening. Now, I know my new year's resolution is to be less of a misery guts, but I'm sure you'll excuse me not going to that. I read it with the text-speak 'ffs' going around my brain. Let me emphasise, this occasion is for the adult leaders, not the children. I think we need a breakaway rebel Brownie group. Like the WI did, but with less nudity.
I will try to keep you up to date with Ms Fab's doings. Well, the ones that won't get her arrested, anyway...
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