We've been to Calahorra again, walking along the Road Of Fear. (Would you walk 3km along the hard shoulder of an "a" road? No. Sensible people don't do such antics. So why am I doing this?
Because the bus to the city stops at 12.30 and starts again at 3.45.)
We walked this time to the big supermarket, which does some exciting things that you cannot buy in San Adrian. Like teabags. Actual Twinnings Earl Grey tea, which I am assured is better than the Eroski Basic teabag that Welshyis currently working through.
And. In my humble opinion. It is well worth paying 4 quid for a tiny pot of peanut butter. God how I've missed peanut butter. And how glad I am every day that I smuggled out my Marmite.
We also shopped in the "World cuisine" section and purchased some more pickled onions. Whooop!

There is a pet shop also in the Big Supermarket. I lusted after a Senegal parrot who came to the bars and nibbled my fingers and threw some shredded newspaper at me.
I had a conversation with a Mynah bird with twisted feet and wanted to rescue him and take him home.
And Welshy fell in love with a black and white cocker spaniel puppy. Bizarre from someone who hates dogs. I did not like my role reversal of pointing out why we couldn't get the puppy. The costs involved. The commitment. The fact that we do not know if we can have pets here or how we'd get it to England if we have to go home. Especially as we'd be going back to Mothers and she has put her foot down over puppies in the past. Plus buying puppies from a pet shop is wrong.
But my resolve is weak....
No. A bird is better, a bird is less commitment. A bird is easy to care for, a bird can move into my aviary once we go home.
Except said birdies here are rather expensive. I could pick up a cockatiel at home for about 15-20 quid. There? 80 Euro. Just a slight mark up.
Senegal parrot friend? nearly 800 quid. Didn't dare ask about the Mynah bird.
No. As much as I miss animal company, its best for all if we are strong and do not purchase.

Last night me and Welshy comsumed two bottles of "summer wine" = Red wine and lemon fanta.
Come 1am we needed more alcohol so we hit the streets and headed for adventure.
We made friends! Some random drunk cousins. Some random camp guy, who showed us off to the barlady in the Agora, who previously laughed at my attempts to order hot chocolate and I had two men (both obviously very gay) take me to a toilet, where we discussed Madonna.
"You speak English! Like Madonna!" etc.

at 4 the bar stopped serving until a policeman came and took someone away - lack of Spanish meant I had no idea why.
We left at 5.45 and it was still jumping.

Went to bed, woke up at 7am to watch the Wales Rugby game. Then slept till 2pm, then got up and listened to the CAFC radio coverage. Then slept again.

Ready for adventure now although Welshy who didnt sleep is starting to flag. Also I think we made a vague drunken promise to return to the bar between 1-2am to meet one of those guys sisters who spoke English.

Not sure we're gonna go though. Feeling a bit poor.

Last Night welshy was closing the window when he cried with panic...

"What is that? Its a monster! Its a gecko or something!" And then retreated to the safety of the kitchen.
It was indeed a gecko hanging out on our windowsill. A tiny half-an-inch long baby gecko. 
"Kil it!" He demanded. "Before it gets in th house!"
I was so busy laughing I failed to get a decent picture of the baby and then ushered it away with a piece of paper.

Apparently it takes 4 trees and 3 hours to open up a bank account here in Spain. The amount of paperwork we had to sign!
It was ridiculous!
I'm sure the last time I opened an account in England I was in and out of the bank in 30 minutes after having filled one form out! Now I only have 10 minutes before I need to scamper to "Lazer" Hopefully we will get paid soon. Am starting to feel a little bit like Old Mother Hubbard!

How on Earth am I expected to run a proper lesson when my boss sticks his oar in, panders to little children and tells me to abandon my lesson plan and make shit up on the spot so they get to do what they want?

As well as our range of children and teenagers on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays we have an evening class or "conversation club" with adult learners. I took my first class last Thursday and I found it quite traumatic, I had to bluff my way through some grammar. They are all far more demanding on your time than the kids obviously and I found it hard to strike the right balance. 
I have just come back from an early morning lesson with the boss of "Lazer" a metal cutting company which has branches all over Spain. I am not sure if he manages it all or whether just the San Adrian branch.
So I was a bit nervous, especially after last weeks adults. It went ok however. He seems a really nice guy but he likes the sound of his own voice and it is hard to get him to be quiet and listen to you. He told me of a place nearby that has dinosaur fossil footprints so hopefully when we get paid (which should be sometime this week) we can go and visit.
Tomorrow I am to go to Lazer, after we have set up our bank accounts and meet some more top guys there and do some English with them.

Many people will be suffering today. Last night was the anniversary of one of the Bars opening.
So it was partytime until 1am when we went to bed. Woke up at 3 to realise someone had an accordian and there was bad spanish singing going on.
At 8am I woke again and they were still singing along.
I fear some people will have terrible headaches this morning.

Can never again be called clumsy after welshy manaqed to break two glasses in 20 minutes while we were arranging a late night covert mission to empty our bins.
Worst thing was that one of the glasses contained all my Lemon Fanta/Red Wine combo and now the floor is disgustingly sticky.

Todays main adventures in the rock and roll town that is San Adrian, has been an Art contest. Amateur artists have had easels up all over town and now they have gathered them all outside to await the judges verdict.

There is a tattoo parlour that only seems to open when children need to be enticed with Sweeties....

Today we learnt that it is bad to take your rubbish out before 10pm at night. In case it attracts flies and starts to smell. Explains all the filthy looks we get walking down the road carrying our refuse.

Yay! CAFC Win! I discover baking powder making a successful Victoria Sponge Mk2. (looks like a brick, sponge still doesnt taste like English Sponge) and I'm watching Strictly Come Dancing.

More children shout "Hello" at Welshy than me. This makes me very, very sad.
Why does nobody love me?

When will mosquitos stop sucking my blood?!!! I will have none left soon! Or malaria. One or the other.

The Sun doesn't bother to get up here until nearly 8am! And its only September! - Ok well the end of! 
At least thats something in UK's favour, although Spain is also balanced out by it not getting dark till 8.30-ish

There is a class of two 6 year old girls that I take once a week and Ed the other day. They originally started off as sweet and innocent but have now turned into shedevils. The last time I took them they refused to do any of the reading that I had designed for them, then they refused to play any of the games I had. So I asked them what they wanted to do and they said draw, so I said no as this is English and not Art class and I refuse to be dictated to by 6 year olds.
Anyway it ended in me making them sit in silence and not do anything as they went on strike and wouldnt answer me in anything but Spanish.

This week I decided that I would try to win their favour by making the lesson more fun, so I brought a cheap fishing game, (you know the kind where they have magnets and you try and attach the magnet to the fish) and some cheap letters and I plan to get them to fish for the animals once we have learnt their names and then they are to use the letters to spell out the names. EG "SHARK" "TURTLE" "DOLPHIN" If that doesnt win them over I don't know what will!

WEWENTONAWALKTODAYANDISAWAGREYHORSEY!!!

Today we headed to Pamplona early to register me and Welshy at the tax office to become official residents of Spain. Reassuringly I was told that this was a huge Basque area and we had to leave the car open so it can be checked for bombs.
We registered easily enough and then were set free to explore. We were told that the only bus back was at 8.30. It was now 10.30. We were very glad to discover this wasnt true and we could get back at 4.30.
So armed with a map, our first task was to find some brunch.
Of course with Welshy's special diet this was harder than planned and we went in and out of two or three places before finally getting somewhere to cook for us.
We wandered about the large department store as it said it contained Osasuna goodies but that was a bit disappointing, we found the book floor sold naff English books and we saw Geronimo Stilton, beloved by Spanish kids everywhere and the first page looked easy enough so we got it, and then sat in another bar nursing a drink each for an hour trying to descipher it. It quickly became apparent it was harder than that first page.
We did a bit of sight-seeing, found a statue commerating the bull run, and an exciting sweetshop that sold pickled onions!
After a small problem we managed to get the bus and return home!
Pamplona sum up? Ok if you have a car and dont have to rely on a long wait for a bus! Lots of shops if you're into that kinda thing. There seems to be a lot of old things to go see but it was a bit hot to get out from the shade of the city so thats a good reason to revisit.

San Adrian's 13th annual Ludo tournament starts soon. Just 20 euro to enter. Rock and Roll.

worry that you are ready for bed at midnight when ..... Kids are running about with abandon" Tweets Welshy.

The other night when we went out, we came home at 2am, feeling that was a good time to be getting in and congratulating ourselves.

All of my lessons had gone well so far this week. However Today went a bit tits up. Well two were good and the other two were a writeoff.
First bad class had just rowdy disruptive teenagers in. I battled and lost for their attention.
The second bad class had just two 6 year old girls in it. Previously they had been lovely, sweet, almost cute.
Today they turned into monsters! They refused to go and do any work set, so I gave them the option of other stuff which they refused.
They only wanted to draw. When I said they couldnt. They then went on strike. Refusing do do anything and only speaking Spanish.
With 10 minutes left I felt like I was hitting my head against a brick wall. So I made them sit in silence. Childish I know but I was completely at a loss of what to do with them!

Today I had my first attempts at teaching! I think they went ok!
MY first class was with a 16/17 year old and a test of his reading comprehension. To be honest I forgot to test the understanding. But he clearly followed the football review and he seemed to be into the Robin Hood story. Am sure he followed it though. 

Second Class and I prepared a getting to know you quiz that I would play with the other class afterwards.
These were I guess early secondary school aged. It was fun, although I realised that I hadnt bargained on the fact that the quiz wouldnt fill an hour. So we played again, which left us with 10 minutes to kill. Luckily they had been messing about a bit, so I made them get their books and sit in silence writing down the rules.
Then as they failed to complete the task I made them wait in silence for the last few minutes.
One girl had been good so I let her go at half past, but the other two who had been cheeky, I told them that they were going to have to wait for my other lesson to finish. This upset them.
"But we have football! We have dance!"
Tough.
I dragged it out for another minute and then let them go. 
I like the idea that I may get a reputation for strictness. The other calss went pretty similarly, but the game lasted 50 minutes. This was a primary aged class and they too are a bit loud. So I went through the same pattern with them at the end.

Hopefully it will make them think twice about behaviour. I'm sure it was just a test the new teacher out kinda thing as they're all pretty good kids really from what I've seen.

Today was the 3rd day off in a row and I was really fidgety. So I convinced Welshy that we should walk to Calahorra, its only 3 or 4 miles away. The weather wasnt brilliant but at least it wasnt hot so win win.
We thought there was a path amongst the undergrowth at first but that then led us into a farm where some angry dogs shouted at us and we had to scramble up a bank and onto a rather busy looking road of fear that took us the rest of the way into town.
Once there we found the train station and then set off on a fruitless hunt for either a pet shop or a bar that might be showing the premier league games.
Calahorra was dead however. Didnt help that we arrived during siesta-time. So we had a traditional spanish meal of Burger King, failed in an attempt to get the bus back and ended up walking along the road of fear home.
It was village sports day or something so we watched some of the local kids and our students race 50m down the lane, I had a vague attempt at a chat with one of the parents. Mostly conducted in mime.

I'm slowly getting accustomed to the Spanish lifestyle and the bells. Especially the bells and the sleeping. Its good getting up late, having a bit of a potter and then a siesta, dinner and then work.

We've been busy learning our way around buying domestic products (Don Limpio = mr muscle) And we had an attempt at making a cake that wasnt too successful as they dont seem to have self raising flour here. Also I think the heat kept the buttercream runny so it all just oozed out when I tried to place it together.

I feel like I'nm kinda coming to grips with the language though. It is far too quick for me to follow but I can recognise the odd word now and apart from the problems with my cake I can buy food ok.
Welshy at the moment is at the bakery, "Una Barra Por Favor" A Barra is what they call a loaf and us a baguette/french stick.
A euro for a lovely fresh, crusty loaf :) Bargain!

I start my teaching on Monday, but did a little practise on Thursday, they asked me about what football team I liked only they'd never heard of Charlton. :(

I also went to Calahorra to register as a Spanish resident and now have a NI number for here. We discovered how to get the bus which is fairly cheap so we can explore further afield.

Yesterday we were off so a lazy day, Will introduced me to Red wine and lemon fanta which was tasty and then we went to a bar where I tried a mojito (didnt like it) and met a giant penis walking down the road. MAybe it was a spanish stag do. Who knows?

Anyway. Welshy is back from the bakery and its roll time!

I had a nice uneventful evening flight to Zaragoza, apart from the slightly smelly child that was sat next to me and I got picked up by Welshy and my new bosses and we drove to our new place via a small tour of San Adrian. Slightly disturbed by all the bull fighting posters I saw....

The town apparently used to be quite industrial but now a lot of the factories have moved out of town and its being slowly regenerated from what I could see.

Welshy proudly showed me around the flat so I could be impressed with his domesticity and the exciting shutters that work at the windows.
Its a nice size for the two of us and plenty of sofas for visitors! (hint)

And then to sleep... Or attempt to.

There are bells you see.. Three bells. To chime the hour and half hours. Upsettingly they work at 6 minute intervals.
All through the night...
I think I named them at one point last night. The first bell is Clara and she is the big bell. Then there is a masculine sounded dong and he clearly is Bill the Bell.. 
Welshy assures me that I'll quickly get used to them. But this morning I feel like Quasimodo. "The Bells! The Bells!"

Anyway when he drags himself out of bed I'm off to explore the sights of San Adrian!

So this is it.
Last night I left the museum for the very last time. It seems so odd that something that has been such a huge part of my life for the last four years (3 months and 11 days - as I kept on saying!) has come to an end.
I always felt that when I went, it would be amazing. I'd go mental and tell everyone how much I hated them, I 'd feel such relief but instead I was so sad. 
All of this week I've been saying goodbye to people. I had my last ride on Tuesday and Ian kindly fell off in a very dramatic fashion and Bess was the lovely funny little pony she is.
We had drinks after and I hope I can come back at Christmas and ride there at least once!
Goodbyes and leaving cards and presents from everyone. Swapping addresses with Maggie, Ernie and Mark. 
Finally cleaning out my locker after years of holding the mess back. I left my stickers and ribbons as a surprise for who ever gets it next.
I'd love to know where the ribbons come from. They just seemed to arrive.
My final PHP show (Sky tonight) with Colin. Then that final dash to the Yacht.

I got stupidly drunk... Stupidly quickly. What do you expect when I hadn't eaten all day and Ben's giving dirty vimtos and Darren poisoning my system with flatliners? Honestly I still feel slightly sick when I think about that grim combination.

I cried lots and I have been SO touched by everyones best wishes.

Started packing today. My hand luggage limit is 10kg. My laptop weighs 2.5kg. So I've packed into the remaining space, my riding hat, 6 pairs of pants (why are they pairs?) a camera, a kg block of slightly melted Red Leicester cheese for welshy, hair straighteners, a biological statistics book and a photo of me and my Dad.

I have a 20kg limit for cabin luggage. I have to fit my riding boots and body protector into that as well. I think I'm better off wearing all my clothes to the airport.

Just before I shut up rambling. I went today to buy some new shirts for new work. I got my arms stuck in the sleeves when trying to take it off. I fell over trying to wiggle free and nearly dislocated my arm in the process. At least I wiggled free before having to submit to the indignity of asking the dressing room attendant to help cut me out

Just watched a man tether a bull and then try to ram a javelin through its head... YUCK.

If anyone out there cares/is interested. Whilst in Spain I have set up another blog, this one is so friends and family can keep in touch with my adventures. I plan on adding to this as and when time permits and if stuff happens that they are not to know about.

Anyway. check out www.kazinspain.livejournal.com.

What a crazy 24 hours!

Welshy's nearly been sacked... Then reinstated.... Over nothing!

I guess the main thing is that it was some kinda culture clash. Its a small conservative town of 6,000 people. I remember Wendy telling me once that in Wanganui she found it hard to go out and have drinks as the people in the town judged her as a teacher.
Anyway, Welshy went for a pint last night to watch the Barca game and being poor, it was literally the one pint. Which got him judged as an alkie.
He then went to town the next day and returned to find that his long hair and lack of shaving had got the neighbours worried that he was a thief and the landlady wanted him gone.
So they were prepared to buy him a flight ticket home that night! Ridiculous!
I spoke to M on the phone, I called him weak for allowing himself to be overruled by someone who wasn't even a teacher at the school. Especially when we had had all those interviews and they seemed very happy with us.
He agreed to reconsider. Welshy shaved, got a haircut and has brought some real trousers.
Now i'm worried that they'll expect me to wear a skirt or something. I don't own anything but jeans! 
Welshy had dinner with them all and the landlady tonight and it seems to have gone well. He even tried TUNA PIE!!! I think the landlady regretted her impulsiveness.

So yeah... Crisis adverted. It was all just some culture clash and them being a bit spanish and dramatic (I hope!!)

Passport sorted. Flight booked (11th Sept) Welshy is out there now. Flew out early this morning. Last day at work next Thursday. Got a letter that I need to post to the Police to prove that I havent murdered anyone.

Madnessssss!

Also blogger has stopped letting me publish post. Not sure what thats all about.

So passport gained after a hellish Friday in Victoria.
Flights booked (11th) am getting to go to the Charlton/Exeter game after all! Yay!
Welshy left early this morning and arrived safely, He describes the town as slightly tatty but our flat is nicer than in the pictures.
He says its impossible to get lost and had a stroll along the river. 
I got my first leaving card from Christine today! So sad! I dunno, it still feels kinda like I'm going on holiday rather than leaving for good.
What still to do? I need a letter of recommendation from HR and a mini Criminal Records check sorted from the police, letter is ready to go but I really need a stamp!

why has blogger deserted me?

So handed my notice in yesterday. Final day is the 8th of September. Hopefully gonna fly out on the 10th.
Today we went out on a fair few little errands but there still seems to be masses to do!

Handed my Notice in at work today.

Fuck Yeah!

Been making a list of all that I'll need to get sorted by the 10th... Am already wondering if I can postpone it to the 11th of September so I can get to the Charlton/Exeter game.

What made me decide to go? A cold, wet, rainy day on the ROG 3 Arches. I dont wanna spend another winter that lasts 7 million months with cold feet and bulky uncomfortable coats and arguing with foreign language groups

Hopefully on Monday work will get in touch and let me know my final date so I can plan amazing leaving drinks and book my flight.

Spain here I come!!!

Handed my notice in today!
Hurrah!
Set up a livejournal to follow my tales for the people that I dont want to follow me on this because I dont what them to know about this.
Made a list of things that need to get done asap!

EEEEEKKKK.

Been offered a job in Spain... Gonna go... Mother VERY pissed. Am scared about going... scared about not being able to afford my msc... scared about how she's gonna cope... scared about if I can go back to the museum after...

Fuck I can't even speak spanish....

Its looking more and more likely that Welshy is going to be offered a job in Spain... There would be work for me too should I go.
Do I go though?
I need to be able to pay for this course for three years, I could potentially take up to 6 months unpaid leave from the museum and then go back at the end of it. So if thats agreeable with this language school I can work there for 6 months, then come home if it works out too expensive for my course.
Welshy thinks it'll be ok. He'll earn 1200 euro... and rent is 400 pcm. I need to then just cover enough to pay for my course and what?.... sponge off of him? I dont know. He owes me enough to make it worthwhile.
I'd miss riding, I dont want to lose my spot at new stables. I'm learning so much and dont wanna go back on a years waiting list there. I'd miss football.

And there's Mother... She doesn't want me to go. She says I/we'd struggle too much for money out there.
She says she cant cope without my rent money. That she'd need to take out a second job... That she'd need to rent out my room. She says its unfair of me to go and leave her with my brother, with my nan and granddad.
I havent even had my interview for this place and I already feel guilty for even considering the idea. For wanting to leave her in the lurch. I'd be such a bad person to do that. However Welshy points out that he left his mother in the exact same position to come here for me and that I am now 28(gulp) not 18. That I can't spend the rest of my life in a job I hate and living at home to help support her until she dies.
I want to go. It'd be a huge adventure. As long as I could be sure I can afford my course and have my job to fall back on after 6 months if it doesnt work out. But how can I turn my back on someone who would struggle to live without my wages? That would make me a shitty awful person.

Looks like the riot adventure is all over now. Been very quiet the last couple of nights apart from all the helicopters flying overhead.... Back to normality!

A friend of Welshy's slightly dramatic account of his adventures last night.

So last night, most of Woolwich got torched. Brat went and drove round Granddad's street last night about 11pm and that was ok then.
And it spread outside of London. Crazy shit is going down people.
work has been evacuated... People are jumping everytime they hear sirens... Rubber bullets are rumoured to be deployed..
Tonight its supposed to be kicking off in Welling, Bexley and Plumstead.
Its all just a matter of waiting for nightfall and seeing what happens next....

Honestly what the hells going out outside? Luckily I'm South East London so avoided the previous two days of madness but now its all spread to Lewisham and there's crazy stories going on on facebook from things going on in Woolwich, Eltham and Grove Park.
Welshy was trapped in a put on Roman Road after there was rumours of shits firing shots and is now being offered clearly looted trainers from some cunt out there.
My cousin is out there working in the police and hopefully he'll be ok, as will everyone else.
Luckily Blackheath and Greenwich is ok, although being trapped in the middle of Lewisham and Woolwich all I can hear is helicopters and sirens rushing up and down the roads behind me.
People are cunts. I dont know if my poor Granddad in Woolwich is ok, and if my stables are fine.

I'm going to Vegas in November.. I'm looking up the usual things for fun, horse-riding, the possibility of a Helecopter tour of the Grand Canyon.
When I saw this. Las Vegas Stripper University. All those times (well twice) that I've been to see strippers and longed to learn how to pole dance. And now I can! And will! And possibly most exciting of all, I'm gonna get me a "diploma" in exotic dancing. FUCK YEAH. Blatantly one for the CV there!!!

I am jolly tired! I have worked about 9 days straight and then taken yesterday off and am preparing to go in again today for daytime overtime. I've also done about 32 hours of added overtime in those 9 days.
Its all for this bloody course. I've managed to save enough money to buy myself a laptop so I dont have to share with anyone else, pay for my Vegas trip and put 250 aside for spends while out there.
Anything I make this month will go towards the 3k of fees I need to find....

I'd like to tell you more, including about a night out in Barbican me and Welshy had which resulted in us getting home at 3.30am during this 9 day stint but I'm late for work.

Harry Potter was amazing, sad, funny, brilliant. They missed out my two favourite sections but everything else went exactly as the book. It whizzed along and I can't believe its over.

Oh - as for Miss happypants, who accused me of "verbal assault and bullying" She came back to work yesterday after a week signed off with "stress" (I'll give you stress. I've had a rotten headache all week thinking about this bollocks.)
She was on my break at work but got up and left every time I came into the messroom and ignored my tentative "hi." So fuck her. She was last seen speaking to HR armed with a copy of our code of conduct handbook.

This is it guys. 10 years ago I went to a cinema in Nottingham with E and her uni flatmates to see the first Harry Potter movie.
11 years ago she returned from uni with a copy of Goblet of Fire that she demanded I read. I've queued up at midnight for the latest books. Seen all the films, often a couple of times at the cinema.
Now. Tonight at 7 Harry Potter FINALLY comes to an end.

Gah. Just ogt my reading list for uni... Why are textbooks so expensive? £25, £31 and a whopping £71 monster. Why couldn't I have won the euromillions?!

For God's Sake!

Some complete non-event at work is being completely blown out of proportion and resulting in what looks more and more likely to have me hauled up infront of HR.

I was covering the Museum patrol position and the patrol had arranged for this lady to go see the new wing between 1 and 1.30. Bear in mind that I'm still on the radio and supposed to go aid if requested and go to where I'm needed so really I shouldnt be doing this but its the only chance we're getting to go look in the new wing before it opens.
Anyone half one comes and goes and I get called several times on the radio but I can't leave my position. I'm getting more and more pissed cos I'm gonna be bitched at for failing to go, cos there's a huge group in front of me that really needs more than one person dealing with it and the girl I'm covering is recovering from having a cancerous growth in her leg so I try and do a lot of the pointless busy-body running about errands that Patrol does to help her out.
Come 1.45 its time for me to go and relieve somewhere else, and have patrol take over and the original lady, D - go on her break.
So I grab someone to hang there for a moment and scamper off to find my patrol and hand back the radio.
Patrol mentions that D has been in the messroom for a good five-ten minutes. This pissed me right off. It may only have been for a short while but she should have come back from the tour to her position and not go take an extra long lunch break.
So I'm seriously annoyed and storm to the staff room to confront her, and yes as her supervisor I'm well aware that it should have been done privately, but this woman is not afraid to lie, play the race game, and cry to get her own way (despite being the same age as my mother.) She's dragged several people to HR. So although wrong I decided it was best to talk to her in front of witnesses.
But i'm also not going in there hollering and yelling as I want. So I approach her and ask her why she didnt return as I and Patrol asked and she agreed at 1.30.
"Oh I didn't think it was worth it."
"I ASKED you to come back at half past. I had several radio calls. I'm not there specifically to cover you."
She suddenly flipped and started yelling about how she couldnt be expected to walk there and back again in half an hour. I pointed out that others managed it. I did her a favour I didn't have to do and I expected her to be back by half past as arranged.
She burst into loud tears and then tried to usher me towards the door demanding that if I had such a problem then why didnt we go see a manager.
I lost it then (frankly I don't know how I controlled myself) told her that she was pathetic in so many words, that she didnt need to go see a manager, that I as her senior had dealt with it and she needed to accept that she was in the wrong.
I then left.
I then get called to speak to the manager as D is "shaken by my verbal assault and needs to go home to recover." wtf?
Yes I shouldnt have raised my voice and maybe my judgement call of talking to her in front of others was wrong. But from her track record I felt it best to do so with witnesses. I certainly didnt go in there screaming and shouting and didnt raise my voice until the last minute.
Even if she didnt get into the wing until 1.15 as she claims, then surely common sense would have made her think "oh I'll just look at one part and then scamper back." or "i'll leave it for another opportunity."
And why she felt she could take an extra break rather than coming back is beyond me and its beyond me why I'm now suddenly in the wrong for this "verbal assault and bullying."
The managers believe it to be a non-event. I think they secretly agree with me. but she wants to take it further so its all very up in the air and I could be taken to HR for a disciplinary hearing.

Today I will be mostly:

• Mixing with Royalty.


• Sneaking in an hour of dressage before work.


• Mingling with top Olympic standard International 3-day eventers.


• Trying to meet a woman named Piggy.

So am back from the Lakes. My Tipi was beautiful (and waterproof!!). We avoided most of the rain and the toilets were the best I've seen on any campsite.
I've never been on a holiday where so much has gone wrong and yet its been such a laugh. We failed in our mission to get a car so that left us a bit stranded, stopping us from riding as we wanted to go do. Ambleside was the nearest town over an hours walk and 3 miles away and once we mastered the location of the permissive footpaths was a lovely stroll.
We walked to Hilltop - home of Beatrix Potter (Never knew she was such a big thing in Japan!) that was a good seven mile walk, again amongst beautiful scenery.
We managed to get a bus to Hawkshead, a lovely little town and to Coniston where I rowed a boat and learned all about "Swallows and Amazons" And Go Ape at Grizdale.

I got home late Thursday to find I've won Dressage Olympic tickets, so now I've got two of the three day event. Be nice if I could get Cross country and Gold Medal Show-jumping if they come available on the buy-back later on.

Yesterday was the wedding of a good workfriend of mine and one of the members of the N.M.M.C.A.S.C. I totally approve of Registry Office do's. Over and done in half hour. None of this nonsense you get in church dos.
Of course I had to make a show of myself by skidding on the damp lawn for a photo... forgetting I had white trousers on.. Idiot!
The after do was a great party, went home with many glow-sticks. I danced for hours in barefeet. Drank with the boys and went home with Lollypop. Someone at the bus stop said it looked like he'd been to a funeral and me to a rave, as I had so many glowsticks attached.
On the bus it was someone's birthday so we all sang "Happy Birthday" and I presented her with some glowy magicness before going home and passing out in a happy drunken heap.
Spent today just chilling, watching a bit of Hickstead and BMM'ing Welshy who is up to his neck in mud at Glasto.
Work tomorrow. Sigh.

I got on my MSc course! Whoo.

Well actually I got approved for the first year of it. If it works out I can't afford it or just cant complete the workload satisfactorily, then out I go at the end of year one with a PGdip.
So we'll see.
Gonna try and do it while working fulltime and doing my overtime at the museum. (30 hours overtime completed before I hit the Lakes!) and riding... But I fear something might have to give.
That's 500 quid gone before I even start the month and that's a good half of my wages if I can't get the Overtime to cover it back up!

Meh. Its only money. Sure it will be fine. Paid off my Vegas flights earlier so all I need to do really is win 3k out there and my first year is sorted!

I can't believe I didn't get any olympic tickets! I'm outraged! I had my application in on the very first day as well! Now I'm forced to watch the horses from a window at work. Maybe.
Am gonna try for any sell- backs they might do later in the year and of course I have the ones I won at work... But still...

Grrr!

I'm going to Vegas in November! Wheeee! and trying to plan a decent week in Lanzagrote maybe...
After that its a lot of a saving for all this MSc nonsense. I have been sucked back into the overtime trap. I'm still thinking about Bali in March but we'll see! Lake district in a few days! Whoooop!!

This kinda relates to Weenie's blog a while back about losing good teachers. I lost a good one on Tuesday. My riding instructor. (yes another horse related post!)
She tore my riding to shreds to begin with, made me doubt what I knew I could do and then rebuilt me. Better. Stronger. Faster. Etc.
My position is better now, I'm more aware of my capabilities.
On Sunday she recieved an email telling her that her 11-year service of Teaching on Tuesday nights was no longer required.
On Monday she was told that her full time job was no longer there. That in two weeks she will be redundant.
I hate the politics and bitchiness of stable life sometimes, although as its 90% female orientated I guess thats too be expected. I felt desperately sad for her as she said goodbye to us all and the horses for one last time.
We are facebook chums now so at least we can keep in some kind of touch and I wish her well in whatever happens next in her life.

And on another note I sent off my MSc app yesterday. Fingers crossed for that!
No news on my olympic tickets yet.... trying to remain patient!!!

I had a lovely day visiting CL and her daughter E yesterday. WE went to Avon Valley park and met the farm animals and played on seesaws and in the ballpond and on a slide of death, which was just a vertical drop. Wheee!
I rode home on First class (Very Posh!) which was nice. She hit me with a bombshell about MH, she's once again jobless and with a tiny baby daughter to support (I wrote once about her "sperm donor")
anyway, she sold her story to the readers of the daily mirror and is in this weeks Reveal magazine. I decided against putting the link up to here.
The story is full of lies and I not only can't believe that she would sell the story but lie about the process.
I found out that the baby isnt the result of a "sperm donor" as she claimed but the result of an affair with yet another married man. Or so CL seems to think. I am still in touch with Jena, her longest long term relationship and I facebooked him one day and happened to notice a comment thanking him for her daughter. So I wonder if that's who is the Dad.
I am worried for her sanity and her daughter but it is non of my buisiness. I can enquire from our mutual friends for updates but I will not get back in touch.
I also decided that all of us who were freshers in our halls should have a 10-year reunion. Lets see if anyone is interested in that. MH most definately isnt invited!!!
I applied for tickets for the test event in Greeny park, that'd be nice to go too, can't wait to hear back from the real ballot for the real tickets.
Welshy doesn't want to go to Bali with me. I'm contemplating going alone for a week in December. I can dive and ride and see animally things and soak up a bit of culture so I don't think I'll be lonely or bored.
However I'm not a big fan of flying and the thought of a 11 hour flight alone is scaring me slightly. As is getting on a plane company that I've not used before.
We'll see. I have to finish my MSc app now so no more avoiding work!

I'm off to see CL in the morning and I've just got back from riding. I'm rather sweaty, dirty and covered in pony slobber from a over-friendly welsh cob.
But I want to talk to you about my ride. Its so hard for me to explain this to non-riders. The work and partnership that happens. How every leg, angle, bum, arm and finger movement signals something to the horse.
I was nervous tonight. Last week, I was overhorsed, too tall for me too ride, although if I wish to be a good rider, I should be able to manage these as well as horses my size.
He bolted with me, bucked and reared. I lost stirrups, my balance, thought I would fall off, although I didn't. I rode the horse through his mischief. Made him follow my albeit shaky commands.
Made him realise I was in charge. Not him.

Its been a week since my last lesson, and I was nervous, I am a nervous rider although when I am on and the horse is being naughty, I can ride through it. I know what to do, its the "what if's" that hit afterwards.

WE went for a trot through the woods, did some schooling in the large field and then returned to our schooling area. And my pony was sweet, although eager for action and not always willing to stick to my pace.
But I marvelled at this, at how half a tonne of horse does what I want, because it wants to make me happy. How we make them circle and go sideways and its all unnatural for them. But they love to make people happy.
And I marvelled about how instictively my body reacts to the pony's actions. How when she saw a paper bag and wasn't sure what to do, how without thinking I applied the leg to make her move forward, reassuring her that it was fine just through that motion.
How when she stepped sidewards to avoid going close to an abandoned trolley, how again my right leg pushed her back the way I had her lined up, how I made her shuffle on the spot and turn on the forehand when she was waiting to go and figity.

I love horses. I love their smell, their beauty and their actions. I love how despite being scared, I can ride through my fear and ride correctly. And I love how the partnership works, they do their best for me and I do my best for them and do it all without thinking.

I aspire to be a good rider and jump four foot fences one day. To go around Badminton X-country and ride a GP dressage test. But most of all. I dream of being a good enough rider to have my horse to want to do something to please me, without my even telling it, thats what we're going to do. And I'd love everyone to have this skill, those moments of happiness and freedom and have the joy from riding that I do.

I've had a shitty week or two at work. Apparently despite having spent 4 years looking at my collections in the galleries I still don't have enough knowledge to sell books based on them. Fuck that anyway. Same money, more hours.

I'm looking at holidays again, the Flight centre have an Asian Sale on, Bali or Hong Kong for under £400. Not sure if that's return or not, have emailed an question to find out. The good thing about my new rosta is that if I plan it on the right week, I can take a weeks holiday for 3 days rosta.
Trying to talk Welshy into some enthusiasm for the idea. He's thinking of going to Vegas with his friends so would rather do that than Asia I think... I might also go to Grotty to see Mum when she goes out for the Summer hols, again trying to work it out with the three day pattern.

Dear R... I'm so glad you've remembered me and came to visit. I hope you are well and the in between years have been kind and that you didn't get too sick on the Ferry crossing.

I have never been so angry as I was today. Leastways never so angry without hitting someone or something or angry tears.

I was in charge of one of the sites, all well and good, done it hundreds of times before. A group came up from down the hill to do lift rescue training, I was on the afternoon group. So they turned my one and only lift off. No worries. Barriered off, no confusion with the public. Its all good. Or so I thought.
I was summoned by one of the Seasonals as there was a disabled elderly group needing to use the lift to go down to the loo. And I mean Elderly, all at least in their 90's as the Care LEader told me. All differing forms of mobilty.
Needing to go downstairs. Holding themselves to prevent "accidents". So I radioed over to my manager who was leading the training, explained about my group and asked to put the lift on for me for a moment.
Request Denied.
So I had to lead this group of people who could hardly walk 300 meters out of the building around and down to the staff entrance. It took me 15 minutes. I was cringing with embarrassment for them and that I had to do this as my manager was being a cunt.
I let them in, showed the faster moving group to the loo and then waited for the zimmerframe two to catch up.
One went into the disabled loo but the other simply couldnt wait. So I checked the ladies was empty, showed her in with her carer and promised to guard the main door so she could wee in privacy (being unable to shut the cubicle door.)
So two ladies with kids showed up, I explained, they were good as gold about it.
Another lady storms up with her son.
"I NEED to use the loo. My son needs a poo."
I explained, never thinking that this would be a problem, I mean people deep down are decent, understanding. Right? Wrong.
I told her that there was the gents next door. Big mistake.
"I AM not letting my fiver year old son use a gents toilet unaccompanied! What kind of mother do you think I am?!"
Erm... I've guessed.....
So I explained again about the elderly lady, asked how she'd feel if it was her parent.
"There is such a thing as equality for all!" Boomed BitchMother. Shoulderbarged past me and forced herself into the loo.
I was outraged. I could hardly speak, I wanted to go in there and scream at her, but I was so concious of that old lady, pants around her ankles and her obvious embarrassment, that I didn't want to add to her discomfort by going in there and shouting and screaming like I wanted too.
Some how I held it all in, I opened the main door to let the other waiting ladies in, Thanked them loudly for their consideration and common decency and then took my OAP's back to their group leader. I genuinely don't know how I did that, when inside I was shaking with rage, rage that people could be so unfeeling that they didnt care that I had to shuffle them a long way when all it takes is to press a button to work a lift. That people didnt care about the rights and dignity of the older generation. And yes I was thinking about my Nan, and how I'd hate that to happen to her.
Everyone said when I told them that I should have said X or Z, called a manager, but I knew that I couldnt have said anything without completely losing my temper or ending up getting into trouble for abusing a member of the public and to call my male manager to the situation would have made it 10 times worse.
AAARRRGGHHH. In the words of The Who "Hope I die before I get old."

I'm tired. I'm tired of being The Entertainer at work, at picking up all the dirty boring jobs no one else wants. I'm tired of job hunting and not seeing anything I want to do and being told that I can't work in other departments as my four years of staring at the Collections means I don't know enough about them.
I'm tired of being poor. I'm tired of worrying about money and I'm tired of living at home.
I wish I was more thick-skinned and could laugh of every hidden insult. Every time its insinuated that I'm an awful person, I wish I didn't take it to heart and try and be a better person.

I'm tired of Welshy's inability to grow up and look for real work and I'm most of all tired of trying to buy nice plants and tidy our garden up only to have cats and squirrels rip up all of my efforts and money.

Think I need a Holiday.... Roll on June and my week in a Teepee!

I decided to go for that MSc anyway. If I get rejected, then it doesnt matter about the cost.
If I do get on... Well then I'll worry about the money, but honestly I'm resigned to another year at Mothers at least.

I got two confirmed tickets for the Showjumping part of the 3 day Event! As work is hosting the equestrian events, they were allowed to have some early and it was a bid to see who got them.
Yay me!
Only a week until the end of the entry and I can't wait to see if I'm successful in my bids, although slightly terrified about the HUGE sum of money that would come out of my meagre funds!

Welshy is in Wales this week, so its been nice having my bed to myself but I'm looking forward to seeing him again.
I'm off for a lunge lesson to work on more technical parts of my position tomorrow - riding wise - and I'm gonna see about having some private jumping lessons.
The last two weeks have been really good riding wise and although this week wasn't quite as good I'm buzzing over it all.

Today in work they were sifting applications for the job I went for in another department, so hopefully I'll hear back in a day or two.

Mother's in Lanzarote and had a few dramas with funds for her apartment but that all seems to be sorted now and her completion date is 6th June.

Yay.

I've found a really cool Equine Science MSc course that I can follow online from Edinburgh University's Vet School. I WANT to do it. I can do it part time over three years and make it a Masters or one year for a PGCert or two for a PGDip. The lady I spoke to on the phone sounded really positive about it, said She'd love to have me on the course, it doesn't matter that I've only got a 3rd Class degree, that my years of experience with horses would let me in as well. Problem. It'd cost over 3k a YEAR. My life savings come to just under 4k. I can pay monthly by direct debit, but I still need to earn an extra couple of hundred a month to cover it. I dont qualify for any scholarships and don't think the student loan peoples would care to pay for me for it. Nor do I wish to apply for a career advancement loan for it. I fear that it would just end up being a bit pointless like my Zoology is!

My uncle M came round on Thursday. He's always been the sanest and funniest of all my uncles, and has had the most common sense when it comes to dealing with my mental grandparents. Only. And I think i've bitched about this on here, is that over the last two or three years he's been distant, not helped.
I found out that in that time span he's suffered from three heart attacks and has been warned that another would be fatal, that his body would no longer be strong enough to fight it. That his heart is aged 25 years older than what it should be. He's in his mid-forties. Not sick enough to go on the heart transplant list, but sick enough to die at any moment should another occur. He's relatively healthy, doesn't drink to excess, used to play rugby, goes to the gym, scuba-dives, travels the world, rarely smokes.
Seems wrong.
Seems unfair that yet another family member is to be stolen from me.

Anyway, Mother also chose to disclose that when she was born she was very seriously ill and had a heart operation herself, although she never saw it as a problem after that apart from the fact that she has to beware of her high blood pressure (explains why the docs got so stressed about her possibly having a stroke after her car accident/Dad kicking the bucket.) Added to my Granddad's pacemaker and other uncle (one of her other brothers) having 3 almost simultaneous heart attacks, two of her sisters dying shortly after birth (she doesn't know what of, but now suspects that it also could have been a heart defect) and naturally she's a little concerned for the welfare of her children.
Could this be a genetic problem? Actually lets rephrase that. She's concerned for BRAT. Not me. I was told of this whole thing as matter-of-factly as if Uncle M was off to Thailand again. Brat MUST Go to the Doctors! He MUST now quit the fags that he says he doesn't smoke but it's obvious that he reeks of it! He MUST stop drinking. How best should we tell him? How will he take it?
Me? "You should consider how hard this is for Brat."
Oh. Gee. Thanks.

I was quite happy personally, thinking it was just gonna be the Cancer that carries me off in some dim and distant future. Now I've got Genetic Heart Problems racing up on the inside rail. Shall I go to the docs? Am I being paranoid? I've convinced myself I suffer from palpations. I asked CL for her medical advice and she seems to think that as my heart didn't explode from all the adrenaline pumping through it as I skydived/bungyed/etc I should be fine. M did all those things too. He was the one who encouraged me to do it, he has his DiveMaster PADI. (in fact his first heart attack came after he logged his 50th dive).

What about Marc-Vivian Foe?
She said, just to mention it to the nurse when I go in three months or so, for my magic-anti-baby pills. I feel caught up in agony that I'm losing another family member that I'm very fond of, guilt that I'm not as worried about Brat as I should be and fear that something could be wrong with me. Not sure I wanna go and waste the doctors time asking for advice when they have clearly properly ill people to deal with and no time for me suffering from hypercondria. Not sure I wanna wait three months to be reassured too.