douze

My new little song! It had been a while!

eleven

Hooray!
Emeline's got a first for the new year: a random comment by a stranger! Yeahh! Was her comeback ready? Nope. When the man casually exclaimed: "that's some long legs you've got there", all she was able to compute was the following & all together lame answer: "well, yeah..." (because, after all, it is true...) while carrying on walking. Was she wearing something that could have encouraged such a comment? Nope. Good old jeans. What else can she add then?

Nothing. Random. c'est la vie. In doubt, smile!

dix

Today I got stuck between two locked doors.

If this kind of beginning doesn't catch your attention, I don't know what will!
I am on placement in a new school and today, we had a staff meeting that finished quite late. In most schools, there are two entrances. One at the front called the main reception where anybody who needs to sign in before entering the school go through and is buzzed in by someone and one at the back of the building used mainly by the teachers. I - being a teacher there for only three weeks - always came through the main reception where I received a visitor badge. Someone always had to press a button to let me through. When I left the building today, I went back from the same route than usual to sign out. Big mistake. No one was at the reception. To my complete horror, the door to freedom was locked. Not only nobody could let me come back inside but I couldn't find any way of going out either. For a second, I panicked. The idea of being stuck for the night suddenly dawned on me. I then realized that not only did I not have any useful contact numbers to call but also, I didn't even know which number was the police - see how my mind jumped into emergency mode! Luckily, I could still hear some noise far away from people talking so I decided to knock repeatedly on the inside door. Next to it stood a glass frame with trophies inside it which made quite a lot of noise when you banged on it. After what it seems like forever (five minutes in reality), I got delivered by a nice cleaning lady. The most embarrassing part of the whole story is that I actually cried when she opened the door. I wouldn't usually. But I am on my period and even the smallest thing affects me. Ridiculous but there it is....

if only real life could be this way...

nein oder nine

Something happened to me today that was totally weird, so obviously I will share it with you. Today was back to school day and I caught up with one of my lovely colleagues. We talked about the holidays and anything related and the subject of the staff Christmas party came up. I had missed it because I had to leave early to catch my flight so I just asked her how it was. Some staff members had participated in the secret Santa woopla  : they were going to open their five-pounds presents during the party -without ever knowing who got them what. 

My colleague - looking around suspiciously for no one to hear- told me that she was really disappointed in her gift as it was obvious to her that the person offering it did it at last minute without putting much thought into it. It was a bar of soap and some chocolate coins. Really nothing special. She went on saying that the chocolate coins tasted like soap because of their close contact with it & at the end, she threw everything in the bin. 

Ok, until now you might think there is nothing weird to my story. Expect that the person who got it for her was...yep...me. I felt mortified. There is nothing like the feeling of hidden shame. My cheeks were burning & I kept trying to react naturally to her words.

To act normal when you are really really embarrassed is a tough job. I am no actress. Oh my goodness, I really struggled to stay casual. My brain was working full capacity telling me repeatetly: don't mess it up, don't mess it up, what would you act like if you weren't the one that got her that present? come on, come on."

I really thought I was doing a poor job but she didn't suspect anything luckily (maybe I am a bit of an actress  after all- or a good liar, hummmm). Being insulted in such a way is a new experience for me. To my defense, I did put thought into her gift. The bar of soap was no ordinary soap! It was from a Cath Kidson shop with a lovely label and package. It costed 5 pounds too! Ok, I guess it's not the most glamourous of gift but even though she's a lovely girl, I don't know her that well & I didn't want to take a chance by buying her a pair of earrings she would hate. I think I should have. 

Gutted.

huit (not weet)

Home is where the heart is. 

Such an old saying used repeatedly in many different situations. Yet it is still powerful and also very true. Home is where the heart is. I wonder where is mine. My home, my heart. This new year has me thinking as I came back to England in a house full of stuff that I don't own, that I don't even really like and that I would change, exchange, arrange (tick as you go) if it was actually my home. Renting a room in a house can have that effect on people. I am surprised not to have realized it before. I long to have my own little flat. I don't have to own it per se but at least, decorate it as I wish and put things in it that makes it a home. 

Know what I mean? 

For now, I am considering the option of maybe moving out of my rented room and rent a whole flat by myself. (freaky, exciting thought)

OR

I am also thinking of just closing my eyes on awful taste & endure it for the next six months of my training here & then find something for myself when I know I can stay a bit longer where I will work.

I am really looking forward to having my space. I already know what I want to buy! A huge bookcase. Storage space especially for my colour-coded folders. Because yes, when you're a teacher, you are bound to piled up stuff from work into your house. Something that my landlady -bless her- didn't think about.

There you go, little frustration - you should see the sight of my desk. 

Appalling. 

Oh well.

One day, bookcase, you will be mine.