Canadian Daytime TV and Supervising a school disco in Quebec {Part II}

If any of my fellow Quebec ELAs know about life and time well spent they will know about these two programs here:

In The Kitchen With Chef Pasquale

This guy is an actual legend. He is not here for all of these basic chefs when wearing his bright red pimped out king fisher toque. Pasquale is too busy making love to the camera with jokes for his imaginary audience and casually sliding into operatic power ballads while sautéing.

Introducing, my bae, Stefano Faita a.k.a my t.v. husband/imaginary ideal uomo italiano:

In The Kitchen With Stefano

His hairline is tragic but the culinary masterpieces he produces with his bare hands (not everyday Nigella sticking her fingers in cake batter) are just....He could put a ring on it any day.

There is no school on Monday, so these two Italian gentlemen will be filling my day while I handle business at home.

.....................................................................................................................................

M'kay, so since I hate leaving things half finished, let me fill you in on the rest of my experiences supervising a disco at my school a little while back. Starting with the rules for

Girls

You will only roll with one of two crews:

BLW (Big Little Women) - who's compulsory attire includes a long hemline, preferably something the swirls when you twirl, ballet shows kitten heels and a tiny pointless handbag you fill with errythang in your room for no reason; that is so full you can't find your snack money, and has enough stuff in it that you can look busy rummaging in it when you have nothing to do or no-one to talk to or dance with. No shade, but shade. And I can say that because I was one of those girls for a hot second until like year 9 LOL.

GG (Girl's Generation) - these chicks co-ordinate their outfits as hard as a Korean girl band. The look is always skinny jeans, and if the motive is pastel colours, everybody is sure to get the memo. The aim is for your jeans to be so tight, and fitted they can hold your entire life, no purse needed. So what if it takes you 5 minutes to wrestle your giant smart phone out of your stupidly tiny pocket. The fine print is:

If you didn't fight, and cry and struggle to get your jeans on....

And you won't require assistance to get you out of them later,
"You can't sit with us!"

Rolling to the party in your box-fresh patent gold hi-tops means you are officially Queen Bee...

If said "sneakers" also have multicoloured flashing lights you have rendered every other girl irrelevant, slaying the entire room.

If puberty has given you something to work with, break out that boob tube your mum may, or may not, have let you buy, and wear it with your favourite skin tone bra because you still believe the lie that that makes it invisible.

Sorry baby, this bra, does not carry the chameleon effect.

A dance floor is the perfect excuse for you to show off your cartwheels and backhand springs that you just learnt at cheer practice. Gone are the days of White Chicks style dance-offs it seems....

Today is the day you're allowed to wear makeup, even though you know jack about how to use it. You've been dying to use the little you have, especially that bright eye shadow that matches your "pants", the end result is something like this:

Snake, hairstyling, blending technique,
brush control and mascara ALL sold separately.

#SideNote

When you see said student, you try your hardest to keep a straight face and allow her to keep her confidence because she's pretty sure she looks good. And girls will LIE to their friends and let them look any kind of way when they leave. But that's all part of it, so let me un-crease and not upset the balance.

Dancing does however, have a time and place so make sure your skills are on point. For instance, when you win an mp3 player and you run up on stage. Then the DJs asks if you can shuffle, you better be ready when that track drops to have your shining moment:

And then, there was what happened to me:

Do NOT I repeat DO NOT, agree to man the snack table, that thing is a trap if you don't know what you're doing. It will lead to nothing. But. Trouble.

Exhibit A - when a whole bunch of students come your way and one tries to make eye contact with you so you can serve them. You don't know what half of these sweets are called in French, let alone how much they are on the price list, and everyone is shouting out their orders. Do a Prince George:

You look away, look down and get to looking hella-busy rearranging crisp packets.

Exhibit B - when loud music and shouting makes you re-realise the poor quality of the French you've managed to acquire. You are NOT equipped to manage a snack table in Quebec in any way, shape or form without orders being repeated and sign language being incorporated.

Your face when you try and desperately clutch at the fading memory of
whatever it was they said they wanted to buy....

Exhibit C - you chose languages, writing, humanities and left maths in the dust a long time ago. That part of your brain died a long time ago. So when students ask for a whole bunch of $0-2 items and hand you a penny, you struggle for a whole 5 mins to work out that change without getting out the phone calculator. Or worse, you forget the price of something so you assign your own, then discover (when you bother to ask the teacher on the snack table with you to go over the prices one last time), you overcharged 20 students by 75 cents. Adopt your mother's philosophy and never admit you're wrong and just pray they don't bring it up.