London week

Let’s talk about my recent week in London.

There were a series of things I had in mind while organising the trip there.

1. Obviously, the PGCE interview

2. Seeing my buddhist friends again

3. Catching up with Plump-cheeks

4. Visiting Goldstag (my old school, the name is fictional, of course), especially to see my mentor teacher and great friend, (I’ll call her Turquoise since it’s her favourite colour) and my other friend who’s doing her PGCE there (I’ll call her Perla)

I feel chiastic today, so let’s start from n.4

4. I spent two days at Goldstag, met the new FLAs (didn’t really like them, apart from the Spanish one), and had the possibility to catch up with everybody. They were all happy to see me and I think I told the story of my interview about twelve times. I was very happy about the actual interview and my lesson plan (you can’t get wrong if you basically throw in the lesson plan everything you remember of the Deputy Head’s and Turquoise’s classes), but I knew I had done a few mistakes in the Spanish grammar test and was a bit worried about it (but, oddly enough, wasn’t beating myself up about it as I usually do… attitude is improving!). Everybody told me the mistakes were not going to be a problem and they were sure I was going to get in. The new HoD (nicest guy EVAR) had a long chat with me and told me that I should try and do a placement at Goldstag. I would abso-frigging-lutely LUV it. Had a couple of chats with Perla in the canteen (the poor thing is very stressed out), with Turquoise and with another teacher I barely knew ‘cause she arrived at the school when I was going away but who’s really lovely. Nice days, all in all.

3. Plump-cheeks… oh, dear. Well, I had the memory of two wonderful days with her. Let’s just say that now I have the memory of two totally awful days. Good bye, Plump-cheeks.

The first day at Goldstag, I waited for her only to see her basically run away after having perfunctorily asked me about my interview. I later emailed her and told her I didn’t like being treated like shit and if she didn’t want to grab a coffee with me she only had to say so. She apologised stating she had a very bad day at work. Which, of course, is enough of a reason to treat like shit someone you haven’t seen in almost eight months, innit? Anyway. The day after I sort-of forced her to agree to this blasting coffee, but she told me not to wait for her at school (just because she didn’t want me to get bored, she said) and instead meeting at a cafe in another town. I didn’t like the idea because a) I didn’t have my UK phone and b) my sense of direction sucks. Later in the day, I told her I decided to wait for her at school. Again, she dismissed me in one second flat (because, you know, she could be smitten by the school-Gods if they caught her being friendly with me, right? She can be friendly with everybody, apart from me. I don’t know why she doesn’t realise that this way she makes it even more clear to everybody around that there is something off between us). So, long story short, she doesn’t understand dick, doesn’t wait for me, goes away in her car, I was late, I had to ask around for her number to call her, took an hour to get to that place, got off at the wrong stop, had to get a tube as well, and got to the cafe soaking wet (it was raining), cold, tired and supremely pissed. And what do I find? That she had done something wrong with her parking ticket and got fined. Big deal. And had another bad day at work. Big fucking deal. I spent an hour and a half basically listening to her whining about the school, the work, how hard it is, AND…. how do I not understand a vast array of things regarding her work and her… hum, coursework?, well, whatever.

That, дамы и господа, is THE huge no-no with me. Never, I repeat, NEVER start a sentence directed at me with the words: ‘You don’t understand’ or variations. Or, at least, before doing that, think twice. And then a third time. Then, only then, if you are really really sure I’m not intelligent enough to understand, you may DARE to ASSUME I don’t understand. Fuck.

And all that, I’m sure, all that frustrating run under the rain, because she didn’t want to be seen leaving the school with me. Fuck her. Of course, now everybody knows. They are not stupid. Serves her right *evil grin*

At the end, she brought me to the tube station and I asked her if she was going to kiss me good bye. To which she said no, because she realised she already pissed me and fucked with me around enough, and for a change she wanted to be a decent human being.

*rullo di tamburi*

Oh, yeah, she DID admit that. Yeah. Now I can forget about her. Ah, such a relief.

I’m not saying I’ve buried her. No R.I.P. here. We may even meet again in more favourable circumstances, but at least now I’m myself. No rose-tinted lenses about her. Self-centred, self-conscious, paranoiac and ultimately utterly frustrating bitch.

Well, her loss anyway. Good thing about it, is that I walked away totally sure that I was going to make value, big value, out of that horrible hours. Not sure how, but I will. Which is the same as having done it already.

2. After she dropped me at the station, I went straight to another town because, luck of lucks, there was gonna be a buddhist meeting. And not just any meeting, but the Youth Division one, something we do only once a year. The sole idea made me happy beyond belief. I hadn’t intended to take the tube originally, but to take a bus from my place. Since it was already late, I decided to get to the town and get a bus at the central bus station. So, I was there, buying a lighter, and I hear someone calling my name. And who was that? Why, the whole Young Women district. MY old YW district!!!!!!!! MINE. My friends!!! My wonderful, beautiful lotus flowers!!!

And THAT was IT. It was like the Gohonzon was sending me a message:

Plump-cheeks: bad. Buddhism and buddhist friends: good.

I forgot the last time I actually hugged someone. Sometimes, в горестной разлуки / в моей блуждающей судьбе, I feel a sore need for human contact. Just hugging someone. Hugging a friend. And being hugged. It was so wonderful to feel the warmth of my friends. So many happy faces, happy to see me. The meeting was fantastic. Absolutely great.

1. Then I came back home, relaxed and full of happiness. We had chanted a lot, did gongyo together (how do I miss the music of multiple voices doing gongyo…), had encouragement, experiences (one of them mine ☺), and even a party after, so I was feeling totally great. I went on the internet to write a message to Plump-cheeks (I forgot my very favourite scarf in her bloody car, dammit), and out of habit I opened the emails. And there was an email from the course tutor.

My heart starts beating uncontrollably. And...

Dear Ewa,

Just a quick email to let you know that you were successful at interview….

WAIT wait wait, hang on, shit…. Successful? Not UNsuccessful? They look scarily similar, you know?, let’s read it again….

….were successful at interview and will receive confirmation of our offer of a place on the PGCE ML program starting September 2010….

My jaw drops to the floor (well, ok, I was on the bed). After a couple of seconds, I start breathing again and proceed to tell everybody in the known universe - starting with my startled former landlord downstairs - the great excellent news. I have already been congratulated by a lot of people. My parents were happy. The day after I called my gran and discovered that auntie had all but dragged her out of bed this morning to tell her I got the place. It feels great to have so many people in my life who were actually worrying with me and for me for this thing. Turquoise said she’s proud of me. And all my friends said they’ll be waiting for me.

☺

Of course, the offer is conditional, but I feel the conditions will be:

Naric written confirmation of my degree and diploma (lame)

CRB check (uber lame)

Fitness to teach (uberlamest)

French extension

Which would be totally completely mag!

But let’s wait for the official communication from that stupid website. Until then, gloating is due and duly and dutifully done.