And so it is...

...Just like they said it would be.

Well, almost. So I feel very much settled into my new (former) way of life. I even find myself smiling about things that would have seriously pissed me off this time last year. Although I'm frowning about things I've never had to worry about before (note previous post). But that aside, it's shaping up to be a pretty good end of year. I'm even starting to regret my haste in booking flights over the holidays. If I'd have hung in there a little longer, I may have done something a little different this year. But two weeks at home will not go amiss. Not by a long shot.

So today I was 'visited' as a means of seeing if I'm doing my job properly. Whilst receiving constructive criticism like a real trooper and taking on board suggestions to improve the structure of my lessons, I was not in the slightest amused at having the content of what I've been teaching questioned. And so I rather literally imploded in the staff room at school today, telling the woman (who I had never met before, despite her being my "main contact") very calmly (whilst going demented inside) that what I had taught is actually what we say in English. And in response she said "Well in the grammar books I teach with, it says this..."

Maybe it's just because of what I learnt about for the Linguistics part of my course at uni, but having something written down in black and white doesn't mean in any way that what you see is what you get. It could be that you never got nor never will get what is written before your eyes. How many times was there a mistake in a grammar book at school? Rules change. Not overnight, but they change. Stupid woman today was clearly ignorant of that fact.

And there we have it. The dampener to a good week. And that one lemon too many that could make this month really bitter.

Roll on the holidays. At least then I'll be with people who speak the way I do. And not from the rules they learnt in a book.

Arrested Development

So... developments Toulon end: my second American flatmate is moving out. She has been extremely underhand and sneaky about it all, I have to say, saying one thing when I'm around and then another to everyone else. She made out to me that she couldn't afford to keep living in this apartment, to which I was sympathetic given my own low monetary funds since I stopped receiving my student loan. Then she proceeded to tell me that she found it difficult to live with me sometimes because I give the impression that I want to be on my own and not to be disturbed. I asked for examples of occasions when this had happened, after apologising and stressing that it was not an intentional action, to which she replied: "Well, mainly during the week when you get in from school." Now, excuse me if my blatancy is in overdrive here, but isn't it completely normal that I want an hour or two to myself after being at school all day, having got up at 6.30am, left the apartment at 7.30am and started teaching at 8.30am? Needless to say, I got rather upset that she was insinuating that it was my behaviour that was leading her to move out whilst maintaining to me that the main factor is financial.

I then found out days later that her reasons for leaving that she had given to everyone else were in fact what she insinuated to me. She led our French flatmate/landlord to believe that we had argued, which he found rather strange because he finds me quiet and pleasant to live with (according to his girlfriend). I was asked if I could think of anything other than the reason she had already given me that might have made her mad with me, but I couldn't think of anything. Then, on Friday evening, K (another assistant) came around and she, H (French flatmate's girlfriend) and I think we worked it out. Turns out that she first mentioned moving out while I was at home during the holidays at the beginning of this month - which was just after the "rooting through my personal effects" incident, which I thought had been sorted immediately. Clearly it wasn't. So rather than respect and accept my displeasure at her having invaded my privacy, she took that and multiplied it ten-fold in her mind to the point where she believes I'm in a bad mood all the time.

Naturally, I beg to differ. Yes, I was unhappy before going home for that break during the holidays. But I came back refreshed and with a much better outlook on my time here than I had on the outward journey. And I completely refuse to let her tell people otherwise - if she can tell other people that there is a problem, then she can tell me. I was totally oblivious to my 'unsociable' behaviour. After the DVD incident, she knew full well that I am the type of person that prefers to air my feelings in certain respects. She clearly cannot handle my blunt, direct nature. And that, I'm afraid, is her problem, not mine. I did all I could to make her feel welcome and help her settle in, despite my own unease at the beginning of this experience. My efforts were clearly wasted.

On the upside, this weekend I attended the belated birthday party of one of the assistants and had lots of fun. And then on Saturday, I went to a semi-belated Thanksgiving dinner and had lots of fun helping with cooking the meal and getting into the Christmas spirit. I say Christmas spirit, as the whole day was identical to what Christmas Day is going to be like at home. I can't wait. It reminded me of what I like about Christmas: being around family and friends, having a good time and feeling happy. I was starting to become cynical as to whether the spirit of Christmas still existed, but thanks to this Thanksgiving I'm certain that it does. Now we just need to abolish the commercialism of Christmas, then the festivities will really have meaning for everybody. In that respect, I'm jealous that the British people don't celebrate Thanksgiving.

Refreshment Best Served Cold

And so having cracked and spent a week at home, beyond all (my own) expectations I came back. Unfortunately, I have hit a new low. Gone are the days of entering random URLs and seeing what appeared on the computer screen. Now it's all about the refresh icon, and counting how many times I have to click on it for something to change.

Another way to put it is, send an email/facebook message, then refresh every minute to see how long it takes for the correspondent to reply. In my case, it's an eternity. Not that I'm not grateful for a reply per sé, but in my boredom I find myself cursing people for having lives which causes their delay in replying.

I need to get a life. That's all there is to it. I am lifeless - socially speaking. I assure you all that I am actually alive in a medical sense (i.e. I'm not speaking from beyond the grave). But being skint and living in an expensive place takes its toll. And it's a choice between refreshing the computer screen, watching MTV programmes dubbed badly in French or watching Sky News (which I discovered is now part of our digital TV package upon my return to French land yesterday). As you can probably tell from the above, I choose option 1. Option 3 comes a close second, but hearing about the horrible things happening in the world in my mother tongue just makes me sink lower into the hole I've dug for myself (read: the hole I've formed in my chair in front of my computer).

I just wish that someone would give me a kick up the bum and get me doing something that needs doing. Applications for permission to foray into the world of employed people following this (up to now harrowing) experience need to be completed. I haven't even entered my name on a single one. Not that I have more than one to complete at the moment. I dream of applying for six jobs, in the hope that at least one establishment will take me on.

Reality is, I'm just too happy to click Refresh. As you may be doing now in the hope that what you're reading suddenly turns into something interesting.

Save the world, and my bank balance at the same time

I'm not the biggest of environmentalists. Not at all. But I do use my common sense when it comes to enviromental issues. So silly pointless tasks like leaving the lights on when nobody's home and letting the water run while cleaning my teeth are just not done.

But these tasks are not seen to be quite so nonsensical to others. Apart from the monetary cost of leaving a light on for two hours while one goes into town, leaving the flat empty(albeit an energy saving light bulb, but it's the principle that matters here), there is the damage those two hours of wasted energy is having on the environment when there is no justification for it. Why light up a whole apartment for the amusement of passers-by outside? Let's create our own interpretation of the Blackpool Illuminations, each and every one of us.

It's all well and good to be shocked at the effects climate change is having on our planet, but acting to do something to attempt to counteract it has to be taken as seriously. I just find that many people who criticise energy waste etc. are the front-runners in terms of the size of their carbon footprint. When will they learn that putting glass bottles in a special bin does not equate to immediate action to save the planet?

Recycling is a long-term process; turning off the lights is in the here and now. How much does really it take to flick a switch and immerse a room in darkness?

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

To be in a country that I love, speaking a language that fascinates me and doing a job that gives me a great sense of satisfaction is a wonderful thing. Unfortunately, I continue to be of the mindset that it's not enough.

My first week of teaching has gone really well. All my classes are enthusiastic, some much more than others, but they listen and they are learning. Already. To start with, they insisted that they knew not a single word of English, other than "hello", but come the end of the first lesson they had aready acquainted me with snippets of what they'd learnt last year from the previous assistant. That makes me feel good too, as it means I can build on what they know, and not teach the same thing eight times per week.

In addition to my first successful week of teaching here, there is my growing confidence in my French skills. I'm learning more and more each day about the culture of France. My vocabulary is building, and I even added the 'French Word of the Day' application on facebook. Sounds like a right cliché, but I've actually learnt a few words through that. Being called "une vraie pro" with regard to my oral French skills is also very much an ego-increasing element to my time here.

And let's not forget, I'm in a country where strike action is the norm for any employment dispute of any calibre - something that at some point this year will work in my favour, no doubt. Just as long as I'm not on an overnight train when an impromptu strike begins...

But for those three positive elements, there are two negatives (isn't there always?).

My previous experience as an assistant was the way it was largely due to the tight support network we assistants set up for ourselves. That hasn't happened here, I can say that I have a small network around me, which is absolutely lovley don't get me wrong, but considering that there are around 25 assistants living in and around Toulon, I find it really hard to say I'm happy the way things are when nobody has reciprocated the efforts made for everyone to get together since we all "settled" in and began our new roles in our schools. Maybe it's because I live further out from the centre ville than everyone else, but I can't help feeling that I'm being left out somehow (me and my flatmate who is also an assistant) - if someone wants to post pictures on facebook of a bunch of people at the beach in mid-October, then that's fine, but don't make friends with a person who could have also gone to the beach, had she been invited...

And then there's the homesickness that lingers still. Part of me feels it's because of the left-out sentiment that I have. Another piece of me just thinks I made a mistake in coming back to France - I was perhaps a little (or very) naive in thinking that the experience would be pretty much the same as before. "Lightening doesn't strike twice in the same place" I thought when I applied, which prompted me to apply to a different region with a different age group to before. I got half my wish, and the elements that have stayed the same are the ones that are making me happiest at the moment. Only the fact that I'm not living alone has been a change for the better. Anything else that has changed is making me very miserable indeed.

"A change is as good as a rest"? Like hell it is. And so I've cracked. I've bought a return ticket (very important that I stress it is a RETURN ticket) to the UK during the holidays. It cost me a fortune. But I think it'll be worth it. Going back to what I know should help me see what I have amongst the unknown, right?

Public Privacy

Oh how easily one's welcoming nature can be taken for granted.

"Make yourself at home!" "Of course you can take some fruit for yourself!" It's human nature to want to be accommodating and helpful, isn't it?

It's my human nature, at least. I do all I can to make someone feel at home, offer them food/use of computer/anything else they might need. I even offer the pearls of my wisdom with regards to how to make the little money they have left stretch until pay day, as well as sympathy for the situation. But I get so annoyed when it's thrown back in my face, without the other person realising it.

French TV is hardly exciting - the best thing about it is the weekly episode of Without A Trace screened in original version with French subtitles every Friday night at midnight on France4. So an increased urge to stick in a DVD is expected, unless you're the type of person to get excited by French people acting dumb on Wheel of Fortune or 1 versus 100, for instance. Now it's only natural that I keep my belongings in my room so that a) I know where they are, and b) only I am responsible for them remaining in working order.

In which part of "If you want/need to check your emails and I'm not here, I don't mind if you go into my room quickly and use my computer" did I say "If I'm not here and you're bored, feel free to go rummaging through my stuff to find something to entertain yourself with - be it DVDs, razors, jewellery or whatever"???

So, I'm footing the food bill for two. OK, it's not cheap, but it's a kind thing to do for someone who has "no money to eat". So where on earth does the money for expensive biscuits and even more expensive (and far less value for money) chicken wings come from every other day? Maybe I'm just being over-sensitive, but surely if one is able to spend 5€ on a bag containing 8 minute chicken wings and a box of 12 biscuits with a bit of chocoloate on them, one is sensible to spend those precious 5€ on 3 tins of chopped tomatoes, 2 tins of tuna and a pack of pasta (and still have change), from which one can make at least 3 separate meals?? Obviously they won't be gourmet meals, but all the necessary vitamins and nutrients are in there. Chicken wings and biscuits give you a bit of protein and armloads of fat. How on earth can that be justified?

I saw many a similar situation during my time at uni, people complaining of having no money, yet going out and buying things that they could absolutely live without. When cash flow is low (or at a standstill), you make sacrifices. You go without that bar of chocolate as walk home from town. You buy the economy range at the supermarket, and get double the amount for your money. You do all this so that you are able to survive.

Or at least I thought that was how it all worked. Clearly I am wrong.

Post Scriptum - I'm now buying my own food as and when I need it, and leaving the other person to survive by herself. Unless she decides to let me go hungry by eating the little amount of food I am keeping here. If that does happen, you will be the first to hear about it. And I'll be proved very wrong about my struggling student days being over...

Some can't do it without a ****ing Jonny

You may be able to sense my anger/disappointment with last night's Rugby World Cup semi-final result. Being a Welsh girl, I feel I'm entitled to continue the traditional Wales-England rivalry.

Firstly, I genuinely believe that England did not deserve to make it past the group stages given their performance during this tournament. Not that I think Wales should have progressed either - they played like morons too. But secondly, and perhaps more significantly, it really annoys me that the England team relies on one person to win them points on the back of which they win these matches. They are meant to be a team, yet only Jonny can honestly say that he does his job properly. When England won the RWC in 2003, it was thanks to Jonny's boot. And this time around, the team's success is thanks to Jonny's boot. Excellent "teamwork", England.

It's a real shame that France didn't make the final, the atmosphere for the final would have been electric all over the country had they done so. I squeezed myself into a tiny Irish bar with some friends for the match, and it felt amazing. The French are good sports, even when there's one person supporting the opposition (which wasn't me, just to be clear).

But, as is always the case when alcohol is involved, one crazy fool at the bar has to spoil the fun. Some touchy-feely idiot with one front tooth insisted on naming all the anglophone people he could think of, and I quote: "Alfred 'Eetchcock, Meechael Jacksohn, 'Arrreee Pottair". You get the idea. Fortunately, we were saved by some cute French lads who said something none of us understood following which he left.

So, down with England in the final. Sorry, but I couldn't cope with all those swinging chariots and victory bus tours around London again. Especially when it's so undeserved given recent form.

Beam me up, Scottie

France prides itself on its excellent transportation system. And in the case of the trains, the SNCF is very much justified in regarding itself so highly. The service is second to none (that I know of) and the prices are very reasonable indeed - with or without a loyalty card of some sort that offers discounts on all trips.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the local bus systems throughout the country. The amount of traffic on the roads here stops what could theoretically be a highly efficient system. Sat on a bus to get me to one of my schools this morning, the bus got caught up in the standstill that was the traffic into the town centre. I was both shocked and appalled by the number of people driving cars with no passengers. I wasn't shocked and appalled in the sense that I'd not seen so many cars on the road - Britain is certainly the leader in terms of unnecessary traffic jams. I was shocked and appalled by the apparent hypocrisy of the French people: there is a vigorous campaign throughout France (as in Britain) to cut our "carbon footprint", suggesting recycling more, turning off the lights, turning down the heating, and so on.

What I haven't seen suggested, neither here nor in Britain, is an incentive to increase the amount of car-sharing that takes place. It could be extremely beneficial to all concerned, as long as the move was promoted correctly and valid incentives followed through. For example, I know that in Britain, many employers charge employees for on-site parking spaces, and I'm led to believe the same is known in France. Now, and please forgive me for believing this to be common sense, why not offer discounted parking permits for those who car-share? Or even free parking to all car-sharers? I'm sure it can't be that difficult to find one or two people working in your establishment that live close by, or on the route that one may take to work. Imagine the reduction in carbon emissions if people actually communicated and travelled into work together! And imagine how much more quickly we could get to work if we travelled in the same car...

If the above were to take place successfully, then maybe the bus networks could run more efficiently, thus motivating people to use the public transport systems available to them and theoretically reducing the number of cars on the road even more.

I am living in a dream-world, and am as guilty as the next person for driving when it's not absolutely necessary. But what is one to do when we can't rely on the transport systems provided? It seems to me that this is a give and take situation, we need to give in order to take advantage in the future - surely it will make us feel good to be saving the planet and reviving a national institution at the same time?

I am also aware that the amount of traffic on the roads has nothing (or should have nothing) to do with the state of the railway network. It's not that re-nationalisation is going to occur any time soon - bring back good old British Rail. The absence of privatisation of the French rail network seems to have benefited rather than hindered. Take note National Rail.

Until my utopia becomes reality, I'll struggle on with delayed trains and buses, and will no doubt use my car when I get back home just to make it easier upon myself. Wouldn't it be nice though?

It'll be alright on the night

There is a saying in French that "tout va s'arranger". The laid-back, carefree mentality of the French is summed up in those three words. In fact, those three words could some up the mentality of any country on the continent.

So why not Britain? We are very much a part of Europe, despite our ongoing (and personally supported) resistance to join the Euro. Why do we have a mentality that makes everything of the utmost importance. That burning desire to be on time is stopping us from seeing life for what it is: life. While Britain persists in chasing the Americans in terms of on-the-go eating and drinking, the continent refuses to let Starbucks/McDonald's/any other fast-food outlet to take over and monopolise the high streets. Instead, Europe prefers the traditional café, preferably located in a pedestrian zone, where customers can sit outside and enjoy the sunshine, the tranquility and the company.

And no, I don't think this continental tradition should be integrated into British life. For a start we don't have the weather to encourage dining al-fresco. But what I do believe is that we should look to our European neighbours, the people closer to us, rather than the neighbours across the pond. Much as I am a weakling when it comes to walking past a branch of Starbucks, I do try my best not to order it "to go", preferring to order a great big sturdy mug in place of a cardboard tube, and sit in a fairly comfortable chair with a book in my free hand.

But doing this carries its own stereotypes, specifically the tag of "swot" or "nerd" in places that do not house many students. Certainly where I come from, sitting in a café, taking one's time with a coffee and taking some time out for myself is pretty much unheard of. In fact, going out for a leisurely lunch or evening meal is becoming rarer by the day. Everyone is in such a rush, they can't let their food digest a little before zooming off to their next "must do" activity.

Grrr. Bring in longer lunch hours and I'll be happier. 30minutes is just not enough, even to scoff down a sandwich as we run between the office and the sandwich shop and back to the office again.

I guess what I'm saying is, relax. Take it easy. Tout va s'arranger.

Stuck in neutral

How does one plan for the future when the present is rather spontaneous and undecided? Do we just make provisional plans that are open to be moved around? Or do we make a definite plan, with definite dates, and work other stuff around it?

Coming back to France, I had a definite plan around which everything else had to fit. My summer job fitted around the end of university and my departure. My sketchy idea of what I want to do with the rest of my life is trying to decide whether it's on the backburner or whether it's going to take prominence in my thoughts over the coming weeks. As for my immediate future here in Toulon, that is just as sketchy as 'what happens after'.

So what do I do about my impending decision making? I completely avoid all thoughts. Now I have done some research into the "next stage", but that came to a grinding halt when frustration associated with the "current process" took over all thoughts and actions. I'm not usually a person who gets really panicked and worked up easily, but since I've been in France my calm demeanour seems to have regressed. Search me for the answer to that one (answers on a postcard, please).

And now I suppose I'm in a rut, I can't make myself continue research into the distant future because my knowledge of the near future is so blurred. And I can't make myself clear up the not-too-distant future because frustration gets in my way in trying to do so.

Swings... roundabouts... see-saws... if only I'd taken note of other people's stories of frustration when it comes to paperwork, I might not be so negative and appreciate it for the unique element of French culture that it is. Or maybe I could just apologise for the overall general simplicity of paperwork chez moi.

Nationwide regulation, Regional variation

Isn't it funny how something as uniformly regulated as education can be interpreted in such different ways, thanks to the ridiculous hierarchy of bodies between the school and those who set the regulations?

I say this having experienced two pointless inductions in two different educational académies here in France. Although very similar in their approaches, it's amazing how one group of officials can know all the answers, while their counterparts in a different region can't answer any questions truthfully other than to give the standard "Je ne sais pas, il faut demander à la personne avec qui vous parlerez à plus tard." ("I don't know, you need to ask the person that you'll speak to later." - talk about passing the buck...) Except that person who you speak to later doesn't know the answer either. Such tripe. This is France, the country that prides itself on being the best at everything.

Or so they try to make out.

I spent the day in Nice on Monday, attending the utterly pointless but obligatory induction day. For my own purposes, it served no purpose other than allow me to meet the other assistants in my area and to make me seriously doubt the competence of those who I have to work for and answer to. For those coming from outside of the EU, the induction day is a rather useful time to learn about the procedures to get hold of the necessary papers (the carte de séjour particularly). But rather than be useful, it ends up highly frustrating for all concerned. Those of us from inside the EU who don't need to know anything about work permits and medical visits are bored senseless. Those from abroad (particularly the USA) find that the day becomes a frustrating mess, frying the brain of any understanding of the procedures and the order in which to do them. Talk about swings and roundabouts.

So apart from hearing over and over again about the carte de séjour, my day was shocking in seeing the differences between two académies. There is a particular issue with regard to the assistantship program that is important for each assistant to know. In raising this issue, I was shot down and told that I am in fact wrong. They claim that a language assistant can be left alone with a full class of pupils, despite having received no formal teacher training. Due to my time in Périgueux two years ago, I know for a fact that if a group is just one person bigger than 15 kids, the regular teacher has to remain in the room for the duration of the class. So if the bigwigs here in Toulon think that I'm going to accept their absurd claim that "the teacher is not obliged to stay in the room for the purposes of controlling discipline amongst the pupils", they are certainly in for a fight.

And fight I will. Noone is going to walk all over me, no matter how good the hours and the salary may be.

Reflections

There are people in this world who are 100 times less fortunate than yourself.

That's what we're always told when we're growing up and something bad happens or we have to wait for something that we really want. I don't think we really appreciate the truthfulness of this seemingly old cliché until something happens that makes us take stock of what we have and be grateful for it.

It's a shame that it takes a tragedy to highlight the positive aspects of life. I'm not saying that nobody in this world is grateful for the life they lead, that would be totally idiotic of me - deep down we all appreciate our existence on this planet, whether we realise it or not. But I just feel that it's only at times like these that I really think about how lucky I am and how much I don't tell people I'm lucky to have them in my life.

A short post, but one that I hope everyone reading will identify with, and certainly reflect upon.

For my friends: past, present and future.

Kapoosh

Addiction is a cruel word. Yet it's a word I appear to be associating myself with more and more as the days go by. My reason for doing so is that something gets taken away from me (albeit temporarily) and I suddenly realise how reliant I am on that thing/person.

Take for instance my friends. I bet you've never heard of anyone being addicted to their friends, but the more I think about it, the more I realise that I rely on my friends in so many ways. I'm so used to my friends being there to help when things get tough, that being restricted to MSN communication is really pushing me towards the door marked "Give Up". Why live hundreds of miles away and be in intermittent contact when I can just go home and be in constant contact? That said, my friends are all MSN buffs, and are generally able to talk sense into me over MSN. But I miss their voices, the subtle sarcastic tones when they're trying to lighten the mood through a bad (but very effective) joke.

And then there's the material things in life, like money and internet access.

Of course, without money one is thrown in at the deep end and in an episode of Survivor before you know it. But when you have money but can't use it to make life easier, that's when your addiction/reliance takes its toll. I, being the 'safe option' person that I am, brought travellers cheques with me, to exchange when I need to. Much more secure than a hump of cash I thought, and much less expensive than using my bank card. But little did I realise that trying to exchange the cheques for cash in a bank, of all places, would be such a dilemma.

So having partly got over the possibility of running out of cash and not being able to eat in a few days time, I decided to make the most of my new found confidence here, and go along to a meet-up of some other language assistants who arrived yesterday and today. Needless to say, that didn't go to plan (if it did, you probably wouldn't be reading this...) and so I headed back to my 'new home', arriving back to find that my WiFi access had cut out. "I'll just reconnect" I thought, but to no avail. Turns out my wireless network card is more than likely knackered. Kapoosh.

Kapoosh, just like my time here so far. Smashing into brick wall after brick wall. I'm so close to giving up, yet keep wondering whether tomorrow will be so much better that I wonder what I got so upset about. I have a feeling this whole voyage of discovery is going to end in kapoosh though.

Kapoosh.

Whole days of nothingness

It's amazing how days can be long and full of opportunities to do a number of different things. Finish off that thing you started months ago. Start that thing you've been wanting to do for months. Which is great if one free day is all you have. You're more than likely going to get round to doing those things.

But when one has (what appears to be) an infinity of free days, productivity goes down and the days seem longer because of it. A typical example may be:

9am - wake up, go back to sleep

10.30am - wake up again, amble into kitchen and toast some bread

11.30am - put dirty plate in sink, go back to TV

1pm - think about lunch, continue watching TV

3pm - get washed and dressed with intention of going out and doing something

4pm - realise the time and position self in front of computer to surf the net

10pm - realise haven't eaten since breakfast, now can't be bothered to eat and so continue messing around online until can no longer keep eyes open

While this may seem to be a typical lazy person's daily routine, it is more often than not the accidental daily routine of a person who makes plans. The reason the plans never come to fruition? The idea of "doing it later" and then "doing it tomorrow".

And as my year 6 primary school teacher used to tell us every day: "Tomorrow never comes."

Of course, tomorrow always has the intention of coming around, yet somehow never does until time starts running out and these long, carefree days are numbered. Then productivity within daylight hours rockets, and that very person who uttered "I'll do it tomorrow" starts wondering why she didn't get up early every morning and get on with all that needed to be done. Even if she had nothing in particular to do, getting up and setting her mind to finding something might help ignite her imagination so she fills the time she has sensibly. And the chances of that happening are, sans doute, slim.

I suppose tomorrow does come eventually, but this is one mistake we'll (read: I'll) keep on repeating and keep failing to learn from.

Bienvenue à Toulon, faites attention à la vie en descendant du train

There is something to be said about train journeys. Nothing quite beats the worry of watching the countryside zoom past as you obsessively glance over at the luggage racks to make sure your too-heavy-to-lift-yet-alone-steal suitcases are still dangerously stowed in them. And when it comes to get off the train, the wave of panic that you won't manage to lift both cases off in time before the doors close means that you're ready to alight (and practising lifting both at the same time) for at least 20 minutes before the train stops at the platform.

And that is exactly how I behaved on the whole journey from London Waterloo to Toulon. The only time I wasn't obsessing was when I put on my "defenceless female in a strange place" act on the Paris metro to get help in climbing the stairs. Stepping off the (double-decker) TGV in Toulon, I found that I still had flights of stairs to contend with to get to the main reception where my new landlord/flatmate was waiting for me. Except he wasn't. Or so it seemed. So I park myself next to the Welcome office, with suitcases explicitly in view of everyone that walks past, and wait. Two pidgin-French texts later and I'm collected and taken away to my new home.

Now the insecurities set in: do I remember how to make conversation in French? Do I remember how to make conversation? Have I made the biggest mistake of my life by not turning back when I had the chance? Hmmmm...

I don't remember feeling so homesick as I have since I arrived in Toulon. I don't remember ever feeling so shy and insecure that I have to hibernate in my room. But homesick, shy and insecure I have been. Thanks to an excellent WiFi connection, and friends who are as obsessed with MSN and facebook as I am, I've managed to hold onto my sanity in here. The timidity has subsided a bit, and I've been known to venture out into the living room every so often and attempt a conversation with my new flatmate. I even went as far as the city centre the other day.

So now that the unpacking is done, my room neat and tidy (for the next few hours at least), all that remains for me to do is sit back, turn out the lights, ignore the trains rumbling past at ridiculous speeds and watch episodes of Friends over the internet until I'm tired enough to sleep. Then it's time for the same thing again tomorrow, possibly with more escapades into the promised land of my new living room than I managed today.