The way Hollywood productions have it, a near-death experience is supposed to be a turning point in your life, because going through a near-death experience is illuminating and you suddenly have all the answers to the biggest of questions. Therefore, after going through a near-death experience you are supposed to do something dramatic: quit your job, get a divorce, move to the North pole, anything, as long as it entails spectacular changes to your life, makes you excruciatingly happy and successful and makes you live your hitherto average life to the fullest and happily ever after.
Last Thursday we’ve had a head on collision with a lorry at a combined speed of 60 mph. And trust me, when I saw that big white thing going straight into my face I thought that that was that. But my life did not fly before my eyes or anything of the kind. Yet, what my near-death experience made me understand was that, as cheesy as it may sound, I seriously love my life, just the way it is. Not sure if that counts as an illumination though. In any case, I’m not planning on doing anything dramatic about anything any time soon, which is possibly at least partly related to the fact that I feel like a sack of broken glass and even small completely un-dramatic gestures like pulling my trousers up send me into agony.
Sunday 22 February 2009
Tuesday 17 February 2009
On being a driver
Some time ago Paul and I decided that one of possible (at least partial) solutions to my moving-to-a-small-town paranoia would be for me to learn to drive.
I was a bit reluctant, as 14 years ago I already tried and failed miserably, and I've never actually felt the need to drive – or maybe I just talked myself into not feeling the need to drive after the aforementioned failure. Nevertheless, with the prospect of moving out of a big city with an excellent bus network I did concede that driving would definitely make me feel much less like if I was giving up my independence and I actually got all excited about the whole project.
So I applied for a provisional license and, since it’s half term and we have more free time, we’ve started driving lessons yesterday. And it’s going really good, but I have to say that I’m a bit worried...
Now, many people had said that him teaching me to drive would definitely be an interesting experience if not a trial to the relationship but I did not think about it twice cause they meant him getting annoyed with me getting things wrong and such. Which he doesn’t cause he’s the most patient and laid back person I know. And I don’t get that many things wrong and such. What I do however is talk.
‘Why are you waving at me stupid bitch, can’t you see I have an ‘L’ so I obviously don’t bloody know what I’m doing?’ The poor woman was actually thanking me for letting her through, happily she was beyond ear shot. Paul wasn’t. But it gets worse:
‘Yes Anna, maybe if you had put the clutch down.’
‘Handbrake you daft cow!’
‘Don’t be a mean gear box and don’t make that noise anymore please’.
‘You’ll be a good car now and you’ll start properly, ok?’.
‘Why, why, why are you doing this to me?’
And so I’m starting to wonder if him teaching me to drive was such a good idea after all…
I was a bit reluctant, as 14 years ago I already tried and failed miserably, and I've never actually felt the need to drive – or maybe I just talked myself into not feeling the need to drive after the aforementioned failure. Nevertheless, with the prospect of moving out of a big city with an excellent bus network I did concede that driving would definitely make me feel much less like if I was giving up my independence and I actually got all excited about the whole project.
So I applied for a provisional license and, since it’s half term and we have more free time, we’ve started driving lessons yesterday. And it’s going really good, but I have to say that I’m a bit worried...
Now, many people had said that him teaching me to drive would definitely be an interesting experience if not a trial to the relationship but I did not think about it twice cause they meant him getting annoyed with me getting things wrong and such. Which he doesn’t cause he’s the most patient and laid back person I know. And I don’t get that many things wrong and such. What I do however is talk.
‘Why are you waving at me stupid bitch, can’t you see I have an ‘L’ so I obviously don’t bloody know what I’m doing?’ The poor woman was actually thanking me for letting her through, happily she was beyond ear shot. Paul wasn’t. But it gets worse:
‘Yes Anna, maybe if you had put the clutch down.’
‘Handbrake you daft cow!’
‘Don’t be a mean gear box and don’t make that noise anymore please’.
‘You’ll be a good car now and you’ll start properly, ok?’.
‘Why, why, why are you doing this to me?’
And so I’m starting to wonder if him teaching me to drive was such a good idea after all…
Friday 13 February 2009
Ray
What do you do at the end of a last week of half-term, a week where you got hurt by your best friend, you got assaulted by your student, had an interview in that perfect school with students who don’t assault you and don’t throw things out of windows but actually let you teach them, in that cute little village where you could have had a little house with a piano in it and maybe even a cat, but didn’t get the job, and you’re just so tired of it all?
You go to see Ray. And Ray’s voice makes you cry like a baby all through the first part of the concert and then lifts you up, soothes you and rocks you into serenity. And then you move on. You forgive your friend, you write and incident report, you fill in another job application. And you hope for the best.
You go to see Ray. And Ray’s voice makes you cry like a baby all through the first part of the concert and then lifts you up, soothes you and rocks you into serenity. And then you move on. You forgive your friend, you write and incident report, you fill in another job application. And you hope for the best.
Tuesday 3 February 2009
Snow
Winter is my favourite season, but for winter to be winter, there must be snow. I love snow.
It snowed all Sunday night and all Monday. I got to school snowy cheerful and didn’t understand why people where saying the school should close. After all it was only snow, yes, there was a lot of it, but hell, I’d seen much worse!
Well, I soon realised that the kids were all over the place – probably because snow is such a rarity here. There was no work going on what so ever. Snowballs were flying inside the school as much as outside the school. They all arrived to the lessons late, excited and wet through and through. And as the day went by, as it snowed more and more, my frustration increased with every lesson I didn’t manage to teach, I gave in to the general ‘I don’t want to be here’ mood as well.
Once home, I spent my evening working, cause I didn’t find out that all schools were going to be closed today until everything was done. Well, what’s done is done I thought, at least I’ll get to sleep in.
Think again. The leadership suggested that the staff came to school anyway to catch up on work using the occasion that the kids weren’t there.
So I went. And I think I was probably the only teacher there.
And by the time I left school, the snow had mostly frozen or disappeared.
And yes, I got a lot of work done, and yes, I will have free evenings for the rest of the week. But I can’t help thinking that I’ve missed out.
Cause it seems like I’m the only one who didn’t go mountain biking in the snow, didn’t make a snow man, didn’t make a snow angel, didn’t interact with the snow in any other way and hence doesn’t any have snowy photos to upload to Facebook. Not fair.
It snowed all Sunday night and all Monday. I got to school snowy cheerful and didn’t understand why people where saying the school should close. After all it was only snow, yes, there was a lot of it, but hell, I’d seen much worse!
Well, I soon realised that the kids were all over the place – probably because snow is such a rarity here. There was no work going on what so ever. Snowballs were flying inside the school as much as outside the school. They all arrived to the lessons late, excited and wet through and through. And as the day went by, as it snowed more and more, my frustration increased with every lesson I didn’t manage to teach, I gave in to the general ‘I don’t want to be here’ mood as well.
Once home, I spent my evening working, cause I didn’t find out that all schools were going to be closed today until everything was done. Well, what’s done is done I thought, at least I’ll get to sleep in.
Think again. The leadership suggested that the staff came to school anyway to catch up on work using the occasion that the kids weren’t there.
So I went. And I think I was probably the only teacher there.
And by the time I left school, the snow had mostly frozen or disappeared.
And yes, I got a lot of work done, and yes, I will have free evenings for the rest of the week. But I can’t help thinking that I’ve missed out.
Cause it seems like I’m the only one who didn’t go mountain biking in the snow, didn’t make a snow man, didn’t make a snow angel, didn’t interact with the snow in any other way and hence doesn’t any have snowy photos to upload to Facebook. Not fair.
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