Do you ever get that feeling that you're just waiting for something to happen but don't know what?
I feel like I need change in my home and work life but I'm not certain how to make that happen. I'm indecisive at the best of times and although I have an idea of the direction I want to take, I'm not always convinced this is the right thing to do and I certainly don't know how to make that change.
So do I fight against the tide, struggling to keep my head above water, or do I let go and see where the flow takes me? Will I sink or swim and who will be along for the trip?
Wednesday, 21 April 2010
Monday, 15 March 2010
Estuary escapades
I've decided I'm far too responsible. It's pretty busy at work now and I know I'm not very good at getting into the office early but I seem to be the only one there until 6pm. I also seem to be the only one wondering if I can afford to have a day off despite having loads of flexi time to spare.
In recognition of this realisation (too much alliteration?) I've decided to take a day off so I spend the day chilling out before going to Canary Wharf for a St Patrick's Day knees-up. I might even take some photos.
In recognition of this realisation (too much alliteration?) I've decided to take a day off so I spend the day chilling out before going to Canary Wharf for a St Patrick's Day knees-up. I might even take some photos.
Sunday, 14 March 2010
Nature v nuture
It's Mother's Day in the UK. A time to bestow gifts on your mother and assure her of your eternal love and gratitude.
There are times when I hate my mother.
Not for the usual reasons why people hate their parents such as emotional abuse or embarrassing behaviour, dad dancing or wearing THOSE jeans in public, but for something she passed on to me.
My body shape.
At first glance my proportions are fairly average but in reality I have very long legs and a very short body. Not much to complain about, you might think, but buying a dress that fits is nigh on impossible. I purchased a fabulous lime green Ben de Lisi dress recently and I just knew I was going to look amazing in it. I was going to dazzle brighter than the fake gemstones sewn onto the said dress. This daydream lasted through me squeezing my hips into the dress and doing a little jump and a contortion in order to fasten it up but ended rapidly once I caught sight of my bulging reflection in the mirror.
I sadly returned my dream dress for a refund and purchased a slightly more sensibly-priced item from the petite section of a high street store. It fits and looks fine but I won't dazzle.
So that's me. Stuck with nature and adapting and living with it.
I sampled the consequences of nurture in a store, later this afternoon. Not content with what Mother Nature had handed her, the creature in question had decided to allow a plastic surgeon to nurture her features into something she imagined was more attractive. I daresay she dazzled in her dreams but the reality looked more like a nightmare. It was hard not to stare at the slightly askew facial features.
Which begs the question is nature better than nurture? Should we nurture our imagination or our ability to adapt to nature?
Happy Mother's Day!
There are times when I hate my mother.
Not for the usual reasons why people hate their parents such as emotional abuse or embarrassing behaviour, dad dancing or wearing THOSE jeans in public, but for something she passed on to me.
My body shape.
At first glance my proportions are fairly average but in reality I have very long legs and a very short body. Not much to complain about, you might think, but buying a dress that fits is nigh on impossible. I purchased a fabulous lime green Ben de Lisi dress recently and I just knew I was going to look amazing in it. I was going to dazzle brighter than the fake gemstones sewn onto the said dress. This daydream lasted through me squeezing my hips into the dress and doing a little jump and a contortion in order to fasten it up but ended rapidly once I caught sight of my bulging reflection in the mirror.
I sadly returned my dream dress for a refund and purchased a slightly more sensibly-priced item from the petite section of a high street store. It fits and looks fine but I won't dazzle.
So that's me. Stuck with nature and adapting and living with it.
I sampled the consequences of nurture in a store, later this afternoon. Not content with what Mother Nature had handed her, the creature in question had decided to allow a plastic surgeon to nurture her features into something she imagined was more attractive. I daresay she dazzled in her dreams but the reality looked more like a nightmare. It was hard not to stare at the slightly askew facial features.
Which begs the question is nature better than nurture? Should we nurture our imagination or our ability to adapt to nature?
Happy Mother's Day!
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
Greek Adventures vs Essex Escapades
Do you think I should change the name of my blog now I'm no longer in Greece?
Oh look, I didn't die after all!
Apparently some people thought I demised when I stopped blogging but I'm happy to reassure you all(?) that I do still exist in the real world. Died on my arse a few times in the classroom but that's another story.
Ok, so technically my classroom adventures were supposed to be this story but it all got a bit too much fun and I warned you that it might not last very long. So, to cut a long story short, I passed my CELTA ( grade B thank you very much ) and stayed in Greece teaching for a further 5 months or so. Once the snow melted, it was warm and sunny. Hot and sunny even. Eventually, I tired of scraping together a small mortgage to buy a frappacino and decided to return to the UK to teach EFL to pampered teenagers in Devon. That was fun too.
However, it was also seasonal and October saw me jobless and living with the parents. On the plus side, rediscovering the clothes I'd left behind was almost like a shopping spree. Countless job applications later saw me return full circle to the very first job role I had, albeit in a different location. I am now happily ensconced in the land of fake tans, bottle blondes and white stiletto shoes. It turns out the shoes really are a stereotype but I can attest to the tans and blonde extensions.
I'm rather happy as it turns out.
Ok, so technically my classroom adventures were supposed to be this story but it all got a bit too much fun and I warned you that it might not last very long. So, to cut a long story short, I passed my CELTA ( grade B thank you very much ) and stayed in Greece teaching for a further 5 months or so. Once the snow melted, it was warm and sunny. Hot and sunny even. Eventually, I tired of scraping together a small mortgage to buy a frappacino and decided to return to the UK to teach EFL to pampered teenagers in Devon. That was fun too.
However, it was also seasonal and October saw me jobless and living with the parents. On the plus side, rediscovering the clothes I'd left behind was almost like a shopping spree. Countless job applications later saw me return full circle to the very first job role I had, albeit in a different location. I am now happily ensconced in the land of fake tans, bottle blondes and white stiletto shoes. It turns out the shoes really are a stereotype but I can attest to the tans and blonde extensions.
I'm rather happy as it turns out.
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