‘Be fine

It’s Thursday night. I’m leaving Glorious Yorkshire on Saturday morning. I fly out to Abroad a week today.

Just sayin’.

I’d kinda expected someone to stage an intervention by this point, if I’m honest.

“OF COURSE YOU CAN’T GO AND LIVE IN THAILAND ON YOUR OWN, YOU IDIOT!”. Passport stolen, probably burned. Someone rolling their eyes at me. Tutting. That kind of thing.

It hasn’t happened yet but I can only assume that the moment is near. I’m alert; poised for action; expectant. I’m keeping an eye on my passport at all times and, yes, of course I’m wearing matchsticks in my eyes at night, just to be on the safe side. Because OBVIOUSLY The World knows this scheme probably a bad idea and that I can’t really be trusted with all Life and Adventures and that. The World definitely knows that, right people?

‘Be fine, though. That’s my new situation-specific motto. It’s good because it slips off the tongue real nice alongside a little shrug of the shoulders and makes everything seem more manageable, like when you wash your hair with L’Oreal, because You’re Worth It.

Yeah. ‘Be fine.

 

1 week to go…

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(almost) leaving (in a bit)

I have finished work and had a leaving party and said goodbye to old friends and new ones even though I’ll still be here for a week.

We partied until dawn and it was like old times, but with ALL the people I like and not just the people I like who were there when ‘old times’ were happening. I tried to make a boy fall in love with me by making him feel the hair that grows out of my witch mole. Inexplicably this was not as effective a move as you’d imagine. A friend wore a dress that she had made with her own human hands, and by way of a gift sewed me the most beautiful document holder I have ever seen. Another friend crocheted me some majestic facial hair because she understands that it’s only right that a woman has her own set of facial hair for a night out. All night people said nice things to me, and were infinitely generous and kind, and I felt a bit guilty about it because it’s only me after all. For example, I now own a Kindle and it’s the best and most beautiful object I’ve ever owned. I had jagerbombs and danced with pointy fingers and wore a gift t-shirt that smelled of the sweat of my team mates because they’d all worn it too. Everything was good. I bought a 6am after-party apple from Tesco on the way home because of Health, and that was good too.

On Saturday, after 3% of sleep, my mum and MiniMac (my youngest little ginger brother) came to take some of my stuff back to theirs for storage, and to bring me tiny muffins and to feed me at my favourite Chinese restaurant. Then it was Friends o’clock so we all had coffee together like wot grown-ups do, and talked rubbish and were happy, and Bron got confused and thought that MiniMac was actually BigMac (eldest little ginger brother) because she couldn’t believe how much he’d grown. They’re apt to do inconvenient things like grow, apparently, are the kids. We wondered at the fact that it’s been 10 years since we all set off on our travels the first time around, after college when we were just wee nippers ourselves. 10 years. How does that happen? Life, ey! It’s just going on all the bloody time; left, right and centre; it can’t get enough.

Anyway, everyone’s gone now and it’s Sunday night and I don’t have work tomorrow so I can sleep in as late as I like, thank you very much. The house is empty as most of the furniture’s been taken down to London because it belonged to my old housemate. I’ve got some packing to do, some bills to sort, and some people to see but then that’s it. REALLY it. As in, Moving-To-Another-Country kind of ‘it’.

Think of all the sun there’s going to be! Think of all the PLACES! It’s going to be weirdbrilliantcrazygood!

(I am a little bit scared.)

1 week, 4 days!

Visa la Kingdom!

Visa

Got a visa, innit. In my passport. Looks dead pritty.

I’ve got 3 entries; 3 of the old in-outs (not in that way you filthbags). Wherever shall I go? How about That Laos? Then on to That Cambodia through That Vietnam? Sounds pretty good. Sounds like a truesome adventure. Maybe into Myanmar? Rangoon – Mandalay, train travel the whole way, singing ‘Nellie the Elephant’ and quoting Austin Powers: “Summers in Rangoon, luuuge lessons”.

Not long…

4 weeks, 3 days…

CELTA interview and perfect aspects

Passed my CELTA interview, paid my deposit and handed in my notice: I am DEFINITELY (hopefully) going to Thailand to [learn how to] teach Engrish.

Interview was nerve-wracking. I didn’t know all this STUFF they seemed to want to talk about. “How do you form the Perfect aspect?” Well, I don’t know. Get an imperfect one and… like… tweak it a bit? Whatevs.

In retrospect, though, I don’t think that knowledge is up there on their list of priorities. Fairly sure they only want to make sure you have the power of human speech, can string two words together, and use the little-heard American dialect known by anthropologists as ‘Engrish’ (we’re paying them, remember). I passed on all counts.

So that’s IT! I’M GOING ON AN ADVENTURE! FUCK! GREAT! ARRRRRRRGH!

5 weeks, 3 days