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My new shiny things and diamonds
I *heart* them.
Yum yum.
Now.... what shall I bid for next on ebay? Any thoughts?
Out damn spot.
I just went to vote.
...and I feel a bit dirty now...
I'm not sure if it was because I was the only person in the Brownie
Guide hut apart from the three rather dodgy looking "facilitators" (ie
locals who normally prop up the one village pub).
Or, because I feel somehow defined by my choice of candidate.
Sleaze
You get all dressed up, make the effort... put yourself on the line...
Then, you stay up too late, drink too much and so you don't realise until the next morning that...well... despite all the fancy words and heartfelt declarations it was all a bit rubbish really.
Politics are crap. I'm going back to boys.
Two things
1. Should I be offended that my ex boyfriend Jk thinks I want to join the British Library to go man-hunting? This is not my reason at all... I just happen to think that books are sexy. And anyway I am going to Germany man-hunting, not the library. Everybody who know me knows I want to marry a big tanned German...
2. All those who think I should see if the Timberlake-inspired PE teacher wants to go for a drink this weekend (even though it will involved going to the sports hall and having to avoid being spotted - a bit like a Zebra hiding in a bunch of bananas) please raise your imaginary blog hand.
Brain food.
A prospectus just arrived for the MA course I want to take and I really am going to apply.
Ooohhhh - exciting!
Now... Do I favour Cultural History (including the history of the American Underworld) or London Studies?
Hmmmmmmmmmmmm
Well Done Me.
I have a job... as a real teacher... in London next year.
This will be me.
Probably.
Without the wig.
...and then ...and then....
...cometh the fear.
Last night I couldn't sleep. Was it because I ate deep fried brie and a pint of Pinot shortly before putting my head on the pillow... or could it have been something a little more sinister?
It was the aftermath of the celebration of my new job *looks down*, and the non-drug related come down hit me, as sleep faded into a distant memory.
My new job is in one of the top five comprehensive schools in great Britain (according to the Times). For some incredibly strange reason they seem to think that I am clever. Now granted, on paper I don't exactly look thick... but the money offered and the assurances that I was 'the most exceptional candidate they had ever seen' suddenly started to create knots in my stomach.
You see, I am spendid in interviews; I am fearless, commanding and brilliant... there is a simple reason for this and that is that I spent the first four years of my career interviewing hundreds of people - from company directors to chocolatiers to kitchen hands... in short - I learned how to do it well... This does not necessarily mean that I will always be as brilliant as those forst 60 minutes. Past jobs have proved quite the opposite in fact.
There is a reason that my work mate bought me a T Shirt with BLAGGER written on it.
So, last night I started to wonder if my new school had realised that they were about to allow a phoney (granted a real phoney) into their midst. And worse - they want me to teach A Level politics... now much as I fancy myself as the next Maggie T (!), the idea of little old me teaching a subject like that to the best minds in the country - well - it sort of defies belief.
Finally I drifted off to sleep... but my cheese-fuelled dreams were a strange and disturbing mix of *Charmed*, Hitlers last days in his bunker and my new school. I *think* I was a witch. Possibly Shannon Doherty...
I certainly wasn't a teacher...