because none of us is fucking up like we think we are, is what i'm trying to say

Tuesday, 25 May 2010


For a minute there, life was on pause. Or at least in slow motion. Living with mum and dad for a month, no car, no money, nowhere to be... it was an abrupt stop to 2010, which has been filled with saying yes to life loudly and proudly and smoking too many cigarettes and spending money I haven't got- which suddenly clarifies exactly why I'm more destitute than Sarah York. Anyone fancy giving me half a million big ones if I introduce you to my dad? Ah yes, but wait. I'd have to pay YOU to come and hang out at Chez Loony-Ville. Got it. I'll continue to entertain myself, then. Thanks for your time.

No. This month has been less JUST DO IT! and more, ahhhhh. Well alright then. There isn't much on the telly anyway and I've already cut my toenails.

But suddenly, it is nearly time for the next adventure. I sort of fell asleep at the wheel, just for a hot second, and now I'm upturned at the side of the country lane that is Packing Panic and shit! Do I have enough condoms? Do I even need any? with Italian Made Easy with Michel Thomas blaring from the stereo and a really angry farmer shouting through the window that it took him three sodding weeks to build that stone wall I just ploughed through with my desperation for international travel! BAM. The flight leaves Friday and I didn't even see it coming, I was so preoccupied with watching Emmerdale/Coronation Street/EastEnders EVERY SINGLE NIGHT and trying to decide between the green jogging bottoms or the blue ones EVERY SINGLE MORNING. It's been a blast.

With four more sleeps until I fly to Italy to start the four-month teaching job, I decided I'd best at least try to remember where my old lesson plans were from last year, and wow, am I glad I did. Rifling through my teaching materials I found the remnants of some fantastic memories from last summer, including some poetry I did with some High Schoolers. I'd like to share it with you, if that's okay. I'm sure they won't mind.

Ready? Here goes...

We are boys,
But we can be your toys,
and we are sure that you'll enjoy...
We can be your slaves,
and we can be brave.
If you are stolen by Dave,
we are here to save.

If only they weren't fifteen I'd almost be sold. But I'm sort of relying on this job to keep me in lip gloss for the summer, so I'd best not. I wonder if this Dave chap would like to keep me company until my departure, though?
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