London baby, yeah!

So I headed down to London yesterday morning, armed with a folder full of news stories relating to education to read on the train. I got into New Cross station an hour earlier than anticipated because thetrainline.com vastly overestimates their journey times. I suppose early is better than late... So I sat in the sunshine, read over their prospectus, and made a nerve-settling phonecall to Becca!
The interview went fabtastically; very relaxed, lots of nods and smiles, and I cold see him ticking boxes on his sheet. And at one point he shouted Bingo! which can only be seen as a good thing, right?

So how does Equal Opportunities transpire in the classroom?
Well, for instance, when asking children to draw self portraits, you make sure there are various 'skin coloured' crayons on the table and not just pink or white ones.
BINGO! Nail on head, Rosie!

Judging by today's news of an offer, it really did go well!

The interview lasted only 45minutes so I was out by 12.30 and my only other plan was to meet someone at 5pm when she finished work. So... I spent three hours in the V&A! I got completely lost, wandered round in circles, totally on my own, in my own little world. Loved it. I was there for 3hrs and didn't even visit the main exhibition - it cost money and there was more than enough to keep me entertained. Realising I'd never been (yet seen the film plenty of times), I ventured to Notting Hill in the dark, stared in a few quirky shop windows and stopped myself from going in and buying anything. I need to stop spending money, you see.

At around half 5, after being asked 3 times by the same man whether or not I wanted "free promotional condoms, I managed to find Sophie at Waterloo station.
Soph and I go way back. We were best friends throughout secondary school... we got caught skiving together, we had our first hangovers together, we bought our first bong together, we got suspended together. And then we went to different colleges and became totally different people. It could be a sad story, but it's really not. I love her to bits, but I know that we are now very different to how we were.

She's now living in London; working for Miss Selfridge as some high-flying, art-directing, personal assistiting, fashion styling something-or-other, and loving it. We were both always going to end up in London... Ever since we hit Oxford Street on her 14th birthday... and very soon we'll both be there!

Whoever says a night out in London will leave me empty pocketed is a liar... I spent nothing! Sophie bought the first bottle and a drunk man thrust £20 into my hand and demanded I let him pay for our second! After seeing his warrant card and realising we were surrounded by 15 police men (albeit drunk police men), I decided I couldn't really say no and gladly accepted his alcoholic offering! However, bearing in mind that I have an inability to remember to eat, it proably wasn't the best idea to meet for drinks rather than dinner... We got through our two bottles of vino and all I'd had to eat was a bowl of cereal and a tangerine - oops.

I'm amazed I managed to get home to be honest... I only have vague memories of being on the tube, and only really remember sleeping on the train (yet I apparently managed to have multiple drunk conversations with Phyll). I discovered this morning that I'd managed to buy a huge bottle of Vittel water, and Heat magazine - I suppose I've bought much more ludicrous things when drunk before!

I also discovered this morning that Steve and I had sent a few texts between us... my last ending with "miss you". Cringe. Although I do miss him very much, I should know not to stir that all up again!

Clever me.

I GOT IN I GOT IN I GOT IN! Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah!!

I have so much to write about... but the main thing is: I'M GOING TO GOLDSMITHS! He told me that I wouldn't know for a few days, but I just checked on the web system and it says they've made me an offer! Woo!
So I'll be starting there next September and I really can't wait.

However, right now I'm pretty hungover, absolutely exhausted, and on my way back to school to watch my class's assembly on Florence Nightingale. I wish I could curl up in bed but I promised them I'd be there. And it took me ages to make that damn lamp, so I want to see it in action!

Twitter Twoo

I'm far too busy at the moment to properly write here... Hasn't it been a long time since that happened?!

I can't think about blogging until I know everything's sorted for my departure to France. And I can't worry about leaving for France until I've got Wednesday's interview over and done with.

So I think I'll be Twittering instead. Or maybe I won't. We shall see.

The Kids Of Today

The plan to keep my impending interview quiet at work failed instantly. In my excitement yesterday I'd sent Charlotte a message about it - the biggest mistake imaginable. When I walked into the staff meeting this morning she jumped up and squealed "CONGRATULATIONS!" at me and, of course, I had to explain to the rest of the room why I was celebrating. As there were only the other Teaching Assistants in the room, I explained that I didn't want to shout about it incase it goes badly, so could they ever so kindly keep it on the low? Despite the understanding nods, I knew they wouldn't, and they didn't.

I can't really complain though; it was absolutely fantastic news and I would have loved to have been able to shout about it. The various good lucks in the corridor and offers to write me glowing references (without me even asking!) were really appreciated. It's nice to be able to tell someone and have them realise how much it means to me... I think I need to apologise to Phyll for calling her yesterday and spending the whole conversation talking about how excited I am! But I knew she'd understand and share my excitement.

This evening is the Teaching Assistants Night Out... It's going to be an interesting one. Due to their complete lack of descretion, I know they've been collecting money all week to buy me a 'leaving gift'. I feel bad for working it out, and slightly vain for assuming it's for me, but the hushed talk of "Oh, I need to give you that money for...shhh!" when I walk in the room left me in no doubt. I also had to leave the staff meeting 'because the secretary [my mum] needs to talk to you" about... whether or not I wanted her to make me a sandwich at lunchtime. Good cover story there, Mum.

So far I've had a 'leaving weekend' 4weeks early when Helly and Becca came to Leam. They gave Caroline and I leaving presents, and we said our goodbyes, despite the fact there were still a month left til my departure. As I mentioned before; they realised it was a bit premature and so will be re-paying me a visit next weekend! And now I'm having a 'leaving do' 2weeks early! I'm not complaining. It's really lovely of them to think of me, considering I've only been there 6weeks or so. Mum reckons they don't usually give TAs much of a send off...

It's going to be interesting though. Apart from Charlotte, they're all mums and a good few years older than me. I find myself joining in conversations about The Kids Of Today and what looks good in the Avon catalogue (not much). Although today I managed to get wrapped up in a conversation about Ann Summers parties... but that's as good as it gets. They're all excited because we're going to a cheap cheap curry place where there's cheap wine so they can afford to drink a whole bottle each! Golly gosh. I have a feeling that either I'll end up looking after them, or they'll end up looking after me. We shall see.

Goldsmiths

I GOT AN INTERVIEW!

Now, I know that doesn't mean that I've got a place... But, hell yeah! I GOT AN INTERVIEW! The bad news is that it's next Wednesday and that is rather soon. But I've been preparing for this bad boy for half my life so I'm not panicking.

I'm just not sure how publicly I should make known it at work. Charlotte had an interview for Warwick last year and told everyone about it... Then she didn't get it (I hasten to add; not because she's particularly useless but, I think, because she didn't apply until there were no places left). It meant that everyone at school kept asking if she'd heard back and she eventually had to let the whole staff population know her depressing news.

So... I want to tell people, because I want to pick their brains and ask them to write glorious references, but I don't want to have to tell them if I don't get it. I guess I'll just have to make sure I do myself proud, eh?

Make Or Break Time

Ooh I'm all in a flap!

As you may have gathered; I want to be a teacher. And I really want to study for my PGCE at Goldsmiths, in London. However, there is a major flaw in my plan: Goldsmiths conduct their interviews in December and I leave to work in France at the end of November. I thought it would be ok... I submitted my application at the earliest opportunity. A friend knew she had her place at Warwick by the end of last November, so I hoped Goldsmiths would be able to let me know also.

After submitting my aplication I called and emailed the head of PGCE admissions for Goldsmiths and left multiple messages. I was hoping to explain my predicament and get an earlier interview. When he eventually got in touch with me I was working and Mum answered my phone. He advised I called back at the start of November, but didn't think it would be fair on other applicants if I got an early interview(?). He said he might have to call me when I'm in France to conduct a telephone interview(?!).

So... I called him today and had a chat with him. At first he said he didn't have my application, but then we discovered that someone had just copied my surname out wrong. FFS! My timing was perfect as he'd had the first batch of applications sent to him this morning and so it was sat on his desk when I called.

Basically, I'm all in a flap because he is deciding right now whether or not he wants to offer me an interview. Crrrrrap! He said that, if they interview me, he's going to try to do it before I go away - which is even more stressful because that means it'll be in the next 3weeks!

This PGCE means so much to me. It really is totally what I want to do with my life, and Goldsmiths is where I really want to do it. I felt like I totally fitted in there when I went to visit. I was thinking, and realised that if I got sacked for returning from France to go to an interview I would absolutely do it without a second thought. And that's slightly crazy because I'm really really looking forward to working this season.

Fingers crossed for me please...

I GOT THE JOB! I GOT THE JOB! I GOT THE JOB!

After complaining yesterday that they'd not been in touch, I re-checked my Inbox and discovered an email from Scott Dunn offering me the job I wanted! Woop! I've not heard back from the other company yet, but I don't want the job even if they offer it me. Scott Dunn pays substantially more, it's a nicer working environment, and the company appealed to me so much more. I AM SO EXCITED!
The only possible downside is that they've offered me a place at Courchevel instead of Merribel. But it's only the resort next door, and I've not been to either; I was just going on the recommendation of a friend.

So screw you parents who had no faith in my ski season plans!


Hillariously, I have just received an email from the other company saying that, unfortunately, they can't offer me a job. Ha! I don't want your job! It's rather funny that the job that demanded the least skill; the job that paid the least, don't want me. Maybe it came across in interview that I'd already decided I didn't want to work for them... or maybe they overheard me and another girl in the waiting room discussing how a) she didn't like working with the public, and b) how you've got to "elaborate" slightly on CVs because everyone else does. Mm, maybe that was it.
Although it means I can't tell them where to go, which sucks.

Time After drunken Time...

Wine + ABBA + VodBull before an interview = BAD NEWS

Why is it that these things only become clear after you've done it??


Actually, I don't feel too bad, but that's probably because I'm still a bit drunk and the hangover hasn't quite kicked in yet. A sausage sarnie and a bike-ride to the station might help me out. And because I was very organised yesterday, I now know where the office is that I'm heading to and how long it'll take me to get there. So there'll be no need to panic about getting to this interview too early (like I did yesterday).

Yesterday's went fabtastically. Like, seriously. If I don't get it I will really be confused. She was lovely and we got on so well. Instead of properly interviewing me she took me to a bar for a drink, and we managed to chat endlessly. I think the only thing really holding me back is my experience, but she told me to just brush up on waitressing before I go to training. This means my family and friends are going to be treated to silver service breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next 3months.

When I get home you may be treated to a showing of Cyndi Lauper performed by 2 very drunk girls with screen cleaner aerosol cans as microphones. Don't get too excited!

Impending Interviewday

Those interviews in London that I mentioned in my last post are tomorrow. Shitfuck. I'd completely lost track of dates and days, and somehow realised this morning that today is Monday. So tomorrow is Interviewday.

I'm not particularly worried... I don't really mind interviews; I have the relevant work experience (ok, ok, the last time I did Silver Service was when I was 16 and only for one week, but I'm sure it's just like riding a bike!), and a friend who worked for the company last year has told me I'm what they're looking for. So, it'll be a breeze, right?

All I'm worried about is whether or not I'll look smart enough, and navigating myself to their offices. Going to a non-uniform school doesn't really prepare one very well for "office dress". I have a hatred for suits, and an innate need to personalise anything resembling a uniform. Their office appears to be in a part of London I never knew existed. Basically, it's not on the tourist maps. I just know I'll end up panicking, turning up too early and having to sit awkwardly in their waiting room, or outside in the rain.

I wonder if I should risk leaving my bike locked up in front of the train station all day, or whether that's just asking for trouble? I can't really afford a taxi.