Signing Choir Nightmare!

Okay, at my school we have this thing we can do called “Signing Choir”. I’m not sure that anybody even knows what Signing Choir really is, so I should explain. Signing Choir is a group of people who are performing signed language to music. Guess who was stupid enough to sign up?

Anyhow, our group is conducted by Mrs G, my evil teacher from last year. Mrs G is a perfectionist, in the extreme. As in, she's referred to COLLAGES as messy, and taken points off for it to. She not quite all there in the head either, but back to the story. Mrs G signed us up for our second performance of the year, the relaunch of the regions rescue helicopter service. Clearly, she forgot to check the stage type. You see, we were performing on grass, and not just any type of grass either, sandy grass, filled with holes and everything. For those who don’t know, I’m not exactly all the co-ordinated, aka, I’m clumsy, really clumsy, like, trip over your own feet clumsy. I’m normally pretty good with my hands but feet, that’s a different matter altogether. So imagine, a really really clumsy person signing and dancing on a grassy, sandy, holey stage. You see my problem.

So anyway, I turned up 20 minutes early, stood around, practiced signing with minimal injuries, tripped over, stood up laughing and grassy, got laughed over for a few moments, brushed off the grass and began to drive KJ http://www.blogger.com/profile/01055738947509953668 absolutely insane.  This was done by clapping in her face, loudly and unexpectedly. She squeaked, I laughed, she hit me. Fun! Anyway, we were practicing our songs (Advance Australia Fair and Joyful Joyful) behind the stage when Mrs G broke the news. We had to perform on the stage from hell, because the one behind it contained snakes, just for the record, I was in the back row and was most likely to fall backwards. So, by now, I was getting rather scared. Can anyone blame me?

So by now, we all knew that this was going to fail, miserably. Our first confirmation, when the announcer announced us as a singing choir. Then, we began the worlds worst song, Advance Australia fair. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a true blue Aussie and all that jazz but come on, nobody likes that song, at all. it’s not even modern English…. So here we are, stepping in time, and my ankle gets stuck in a hole. Not just any hole either, a big, deep sandy hole. So here I am, struggling with all my might to get my foot out of this hole without anyone noticing, by the time it’s out, the stepping is over, my foot is throbbing, and it’s my turn to sign. So I sign, not messing up at all and it’s half over. Time for Joyful Joyful, oh Alajuela. More dancing, Joy!

So, the second song begins, it all starts out well enough, no feet movements to worry about, then the real nightmare begins. You see, we do this funny dancing thing which is really weird and makes you feel stupid to do. It’s also very very easy to mess up, and I’m quite good at messing things up, so it really shouldn’t surprise you that I, yet again, got my foot caught, nearly tripped, yet still managed to make it look as if nothing happened (I think…). So, the song continued for a while in much the same way as the first had, then came the bit I hated the most, we have to run from one end of the stage to another in about five seconds. You can probably see my problem by now, as I ran (aka sprinted) across the stage I managed to bend my foot backwards so the my toes touched the back of my foot. It hurt. A lot. But I grinned through the pain, no way was I letting the she-devil conducting the choir win. The rest of the song continued with minor injuries, we went “off-stage” which was really just heading to the right, watched last years song, rejoiced in the fact that we have no practices left this week and then headed off home. Happy it was all over.

I’ve never been so glad to be free in my life, and you may or may not be pleased that my foot is good again, or it was until I just ran over it with my chair. If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to get ice.

Evelyn.

Psycho Alpacas!

Okay, to begin with, I would like to say 3 letters, LOL!!!!! That pretty much sums up my last class of the day. 

Today, we had to be back from Ag early, so we only had a limited time to do 'farm work'. I, along with Alice, chose to play with the alpacas, and there you have it, our first mistake. To begin with, there were only five of us, and 3 alpacas. This may seem as if we out number them, but they're huge, like really freaking GIGANTIC ALPACAS!!!! Psycho alpacas, the pen today, the world tomorrow, coming soon to a theatre near you. Then came our second problem, their bridles, which are supposed to go on EASILY didn't. Well... technically, one of them seemed to, but the second one, yeah... it wasn't as easy as you'd think...

We were the proud owners of the worlds most difficult bridle. Well, technically, we weren't all that proud, more frustrated. You see, it didn't go on, as in, at all. it fitted around the nose, but after that, it died. I did it up once, it didn't work. I did it up again, it died again. Third times the charm in most cases, shame it wasn't in this one.... Instead it was where it all began whirling out of control.

By now, our little group had gone up to seven, one of those new recruits was Nicholas, also known as, the root of all evil, an idiot I share all classes with and Waldo the Wizard. You see, Nick is a few sheep loose in the top paddock, well, actually, it's more than a few sheep loose, it's more like, a stray sheep stayed there because it was to stupid to do anything else. That, pretty much, gives you and idea of who Nicholas is. You see, Waldo decided to aggravate one of the alpacas, aka, he wanted one of them to spit at their holder, who shall hereby be known as Tom, because I've forgotten his name. Tom was holding the alpaca who was supposedly bridled, that alpaca was open to spitting, that alpaca spat, at Tom, twice, he was a good aimer too...

So now, we had one boy who'd been spat on (twice), two idiots, 3 girls trying to catch an alpaca, and someone bridling the male alpaca. In case you can't tell, by now, we were really amused, and laughing our heads off. All as I tried to bridle Psycho, the alpaca, with the bridle from hell. Oh happy days... not! Ten minutes later, we'd finally thought that we had our alpacas ready for their circle around their enclosure. We lead them out, well we lead out the male easily enough, he's rather placid, then we lead out Psycho, easy enough, then, we attempted to lead out Spitter, this, is about the time that I begin to suggest going to the toilet before you wet yourself. I was required to go in and drag out Spitter, easier said than done.

So here I was, pulling a 50 tonne Alpaca who stubbornly decided that moving was not on it's to-do list as the rest of our little pack stood their, to busy (holding alpacas, remembering to breathe and laughing...) to help me. I eventually got Spitter out of his pen, it was about that time we realised that his bridle was slipping off, now, I'm not certain that you've ever seen this happen before, so you may not know the consequences. If an animal gets out of it's bridle, it's like a dog having it's leash taken off, the animal has free reign, this is NOT a good thing, at all, not one teeny tiny bit. Hence, I grabbed her around the neck and took (read: pushed) her back into her pen. it was about then I realised that I'd forgotten how to take off a bridle. Ooops?

So, by the time I'd realised that I had to undo my knot, Spitter had gotten her bridle stuck around her neck and Psycho was fighting to get free. So, Spitter got her bridle undone, and then, Psycho was dragged/pushed in and I began the seemingly impossible task of freeing a jumping alpaca, it was about now I began praying for my life. After another 5 minutes of struggle, Nicholas, the only one stupid enough to do it, was sent in. He got the seemingly easy task of holding Psycho around the neck. By now, Psycho had begun to act as if she was being murdered. Well, anyway, I finally got her bridle undone,and as she ran in one direction, Nicholas, ran in the other. Never, and I meant NEVER, in my life have I seen someone jump so high so fast, he was over the fence in a split second and stood their cowering. I'm not quite sure why though, it was only an alpaca...

Anyway, that was the highlight of my day, I'd love to hear yours,

Evelyn

PS. an alpaca is a small llama (not lama- they're not priests) and a bridle is like a dogs muzzle.

Stupid Bloody Limes…

It's official, Agricultural Science is out to kill me. A few weeks ago, I was given a project for Ag Sci (which shall now be known as Sci Fi) to construct a poster of a crop in Australia. We had to find a map of where it was grown, climate, pests ect. Sounds easy right? Wrong. I single-handedly managed to pick the hardest crop in the history of hard crops. What is this crop you may ask, Lime. Four innocent sounding letters but believe me, I'll never be able to look at these seemingly innocent fruits ever again. Our draft is due in on Thursday, I only started working on this today. GOD HELP ME!!!!
It was proving impossible to work on my poster at home, too many distractions. So I ended up at the local library, where I'm typing this. It's even louder. So much for libraries being quiet places of solitude. Ours is a new one, just opened up a few months ago, turns out, everyone loves it. So much so that they are showing no intention of leaving anytime soon. So, naturally, there were no computers, and I, being the ditz I am, forgot the laptop. I have now kidnapped one of the computers in the high speed Internet section and I'm not moving anytime soon.
Limes are one of those topics that seem easy enough to begin with, then you start trying to research and get bogged. There are some really useless things you learn while researching limes, for instance,did you know that if you have lime juice in your hair and go outside in the sun your hair gets lighter! WOW! I always wanted to know that! For those of you who don't realise, I'm being sarcastic. I don't particularly like Ag Sci Fi, It's one of those subjects that, unless you want to become a farmer or scientist, it makes you fall asleep. That is not saying that the Ag Sci Fi teacher is bad, or anything, it can be fun for instance, our Tuesday trips to the school farm, it just generally isn't.
Agriculture, the study of farming, fishing and anything remotely related to either. If you haven't figured it out yet, I don't like it. At all. It is a horrible class in which I am bored to death and wish I didn't have to take. And just for the record, I'm not wagging school today, it's a pupil free day.
Disclaimer: I alone reserve the rights to eat my words.