You Can Call Me El

This weekend, other than counting down the very few days left until Going Home For Easter, I went to my tandem partner's house. Having accidentally followed the advice of year abroad people and formed a real friendship with a German, Katrin and I now do actual friend stuff like play games and watch films and bake together. Amazing!! Katrin had threatened when we planned the weekend that we would go on a bike ride, at which my heart filled with dread; my bike in Chemnitz is the heaviest and most uncomfortable that I have ever ridden. This is of course still five thousand times better than having no bike at all, so I try to keep the complaining to a minimum, but the thought of going on a bike ride with Katrin who did a cycling marathon of ONE HUNDRED KILOMETRES last weekend and didn't even feel achey the next day was just too mortifying to contemplate. Quick note about German here: as far as I am aware, we don't have a word to describe the ache in your muscles the day aft...

This week has been an odd one, made odder and more horrible for people all over the world by the Germanwings plane crash a few days ago. Despite all the horrors happening every day, something so needless and violent and obvious  strikes a different sort of chord. There is nothing about the crash that is not truly, tragically heartbreaking, which makes it difficult to talk and write about. Suffice to say, it makes us feel a little less safe, and a little more aware of our own mortality, followed by a horrified awareness of our own selfishness - 150 people died, yet here we are thinking about ourselves. I know I'm not the only person to feel like this, but ultimately it's not about that. It's about mourning the victims and helping the grief-stricken left behind. Due to all this, I didn't feel like writing a blog post about myself this week. Nothing particularly noteworthy happened, it had its ups and downs like any other week, and I am just another insignificant speck...

Good day to you all! I'm writing this at 8 in the morning after I got up, dressed and breakfasted, and literally left the house before suddenly deciding to check the school intranet for today's list of absent teachers while  standing outside my front door . There was good and bad news: the bad news is that the headteacher is not in school today, which means he must be ill. The good news is the headteacher is not in school today which means I didn't have to go to his lesson! My least favourite one of the week! And I didn't have to go last week either! Truly I am blessed. I'm not even the slightest bit annoyed that I needlessly got up at 7, either, which perhaps shows more than anything my joy at not having to go. This last week since Jack went home has, on reflection, been fairly good in terms of Doing Things. On the Monday I had tea with Katrin; Tuesday I went bouldering with Zheng; Wednesday I met Claudia; Thursday I had the restaurant trial; Friday I went swimmin...

This evening I went to the Greek restaurant near my flat for my tryout, to find out if I was capable of being a server, and if I wanted to. Here's a spoiler if you can't be bothered to read this post: I am, but I don't. I am capable  of serving in a restaurant, but it doesn't come naturally to me, especially in another language. My previous serving experience of working in the Jaffa Orchard cafe in Bedford should have been a warning sign; I spent most of the time hiding by the sink doing washing up, only taking orders when I really had to, and absolutely avoiding the till at all costs. This was of course several years ago, and I hoped I might have matured a bit in the three or so years since working there. There's good and bad news on that front: good news, in that I definitely have, but bad news, in that it really doesn't seem to translate to working in a German-speaking establishment. I feel as though in England or anywhere English-speaking I would be perfec...

Hello again! It's back to business as usual this week, as I return to my style of blogging all about ME and what's been happening in my distinguished daily life. The last diary-type post was the one about skiing two and a half weeks ago, so it feels as though a lot has happened since then. The most important events in this period of time occurred last weekend. I had my birthday on Friday, and Jack left Germany on Sunday. I was a bit concerned that my birthday would be a bit rubbish, as we had tried to plan a kind of get-together which unfortunately didn't quite work out, as nearly everyone we invited was busy on Friday. Serves me right for having a birthday on 6th March, eh? This slight failure and the knowledge that it would be a very quiet day meant I was slightly dreading the pressure of having to have an amazing birthday. As it turned out, there was no pressure at all, and it was a really lovely day. On Thursday evening Jack and I stayed up late playing Scrabble, pr...

There’s been a lot of debate on Facebook recently, from various members of my Facebook social circle, about issues relating to women and feminism. The older I get, the more of this I see on social media, whether it’s because we’re all maturing together and taking more of an interest in the numerous problems of our society, or because I’ve been steadily unfriending those with terrible opinions which means that more of the good ones can shine through. The feeling of solidarity when a Facebook friend posts something positively relating to feminism, be it an article, petition or photo, is just delightful. It’s as though we’re all part of a team, one which has involved years of struggle, education and argument, mostly by people not of our generation. This hard work has led, amazingly, to the situation where it is possible for young people to post on social media sites about the team and continue to celebrate, develop and get angry about it together. In general, we are able to enjo...