General Catch-up

Well, until school starts on the 20th I have very little of Earth-shattering importance to share, so instead I thought I'd just tell you about all the gubbins I've been up to recently.

For the first 3 days of next week I'll be attending a Probationers induction thing giving us, I presume, all the information we should have had a uni in the space of 3 days, to prepare us for the year ahead as woefully under-prepared and inexperienced teachers. The last two days of the week will be in-service days in school, talking about.....schooly things. I think.

I've already been into school for a day and organised my classroom, which feels a weird thing to say: "My classroom". As though I am in some way.... in control. This feels not only weird, but also like a big fat lie. Anyway, it looks pretty lovely now and just needs a few homely touches, such as some nice kids' books (which I have loads of.... What. They're good!), a plant or two and a lamp. Yes, I'm a girl - there's not a room in the world that can't be drastically improved by a plant and a lamp.

All I have to worry about now is what I'm actually going to teach. But, Pshaw! 'Tis but a minor concern.

In other news, Paul and I are doing all sorts of nice housey things, like repainting, having the floors sanded and buying a new and oh-so-lovely bed. When you've spent 6 years sleeping on a mattress which came from Ikea you'll understand the joy this news brings me. No more springs in the armpit in the middle of the night! No more bruises on my hip-bones from said springs, which I can only assume are made out of the earthly manifestation of Pain. Nonononono. Now it's all pocket-sprung, memory-foam, super-dooper loveliness, originally commissioned for the Emperor Fabulous himself, coupled with a solid Oak bedframe which will weigh an utter ton, but look like the dog's bollocks. Or even the Emperor Fabulous's bollocks - I mean, why not - we've already got his mattress.

Furthermore! There is a blocked up fireplace in our bedroom. We may, just *may* unblock it, and then we'll have a working fire in our bedroom. By the sea.

Do *you* have an open fire in your bedroom by the sea? No? Well I do. Nearly.

We're also having our hallway repainted. I accept full responsibility for the fact that our hallway is the same colour as Hell. I thought it would look cool and sophisticated or something. How wrong I was - it looks like we got very very drunk, and said;

"What colour shall we paint this internal hallway which has no windows in order for it to look as shit as humanly possible, and so that if any small children wander in they will assume that they have accidentally stumbled upon the lair of a wicked witch who will, at best, turn them into hideous beasts and enslave them and at worst eat them?"

"Oooh, honey, there's one on this colour chart called - 'Bowels of Hell Red 104' - would that do? Or would you prefer 'Intestinal Tract 19'? And make sure you get it all over the ceiling as well - that's a really classy look."

So, no more of that - we're going for plain old boring pale, ivory-ish yellow.

No, not Magnolia. No. Magnolia's.... different. How? I don't know, it just is.

Really, completely different.

Ok. It's Magnolia. Shut up.

Happy Anniversary

Paul and I have been married for a year now, which seems just an impossible thing. Come tomorrow we will officially no longer be newlyweds, and you stingy bastards who haven't got us a wedding present will be too late to do so. FOR SHAME!!!

I suppose it's traditionally about this time that people tend to reflect on the year gone by and consider what they've learned. I've learned a fair bit, mostly in the last month.

I've learned that I am neither as strong nor as weak as I had hoped or feared, and I am not independent, or adventurous, or wild or anything of that sort. I'm lap-dog, not a lone wolf: I wont be travelling the world alone and sleeping in yurts or whatever it is that properly strong, independent women do.

I need company, a person to support me, reassure me, understand that I'm needy and insecure, but keep me strong and show me I'm safe. I need someone to talk to, to describe things poorly to, to be able listen to my nonsense about Orwell, the economy and tomato-shaped universes and not judge me for it, realising that it's not a sign of pathological stupidity, as it may seem.

I've learned that I need someone who reminds me that I'm beautiful and who believes that I'm worthwhile and special and unique and feels better for having seen me, and who can tell me all of those things without feeling weak.

I've learned that I need a partner who understands and supports me and never judges me and finds me lacking.

And I've learned that I have all of that, and I've learned that I have all I need.

Happy anniversary, Paul xxx