Life in these British Isles: I am who I am

I love teaching. Honestly. It makes me laugh all the time. And being the resource teacher, I always get the funny ones anyway. One thing I miss about the States and teaching is the fucked up names. Everyone has sensible names, like Verity, or great Scottish names. I do love the Scottish Gaelic names, like Eilidh (pronounced ay-lee) and Niamh (neev). But usually, they have very normal names. I mean, you would be surprised at what they think is a funny name here. I get loads of compliments on my name. Nearly everyday someone appreciates the name. It's getting quite common in the States, but over here, not a one. I think it's more appreciated here than in the US because the British use the word 'autumn' instead of 'fall', so it has some real, almost tangible quality to them. Obviously, when I receive a compliment, I say that I'll tell my amah. I mean, how much of a say did I get in it?

So, thinking about pupils reminds me of an episode that happened early in the school year. I had crouched down next to Montana as he sat at a table to help him with this work. I moved in closer to talk him softly and not disturb the others. Montana pointed at me, right below my nose, and said, "What's that?" I thought, especially since he didn't know me well, he was trying to be cheeky. That used to really bother me when kids did that, but now I just roll with the punches and give it back. So I said, "I don't know. A bogey?" He laughed and so did I. I looked back down at his work to continue to help him. Montana looked at me again. "No, really," he said, "What is that?" At this point, I didn't think he was being cheeky any longer, but I didn't have a clue what he was talking about. "I don't know," I replied. I then pointed to the same spot he pointed at on my face, right below his nose. "What's that?" "My beard," he answered. The worst part of that is that when I turned to look at the rest of the pupils at the table, they all sort of gave a nod, as if to say, "Yeh, you got a moustache."

The other day, Shondae came over to give me a hug. "Hi," she said, "You know, you always wear black and dark green." Heh, heh... oh, I don't think so. But she's right! Here's yesterday's purchases:

My wardrobe is scarily filled with greys and blacks. I'm going back to her for more fashion advice -- what colour should I be wearing Shondae? My current fashion guru, the Boy, didn't even pick up on the monochromicity. Yes, I said it. The Boy. Actually, he usually picks most of my new clothes, as my best friend isn't around to go shopping with me. Sadly, I trust his judgment over mine most of the time.

Cropped trousers and shorts are very hot this season and I am embracing it fully. I did not truly appreciate the cropped trouser when I lived in the States -- in fact, I loathed them. Mostly because women over there wore really ugly cropped trousers. I now have 7 pairs, (Wow! I'm even startled) including the new pair in the picture. The key is the cropped trouser should not be flared. Not at all. In fact, they should be tapered. This is the only time I can get away with wearing tapered trousers, which is the other hot style this season. After years of embracing the flared trousers, women here are revolting and moving toward the extreme to the full-length tapered trouser. I, my friends, can not wear a full-length tapered trouser. I can't even begin to describe the awfulness of the sight. But the tapered cropped trouser lets me imagine that I'm some glamorous supermodel with long legs, wearing the tightest of tapered trousers.

So, what I am wearing these days to keep me warm? I want you to know that, really, it's not that cold here. Okay, it's colder than where you are, but it could be worse. I could be in friggin' Poland. Now that is cold. If you remember last year, I was embracing the camisole over the three-quarter-length top look. I am still wearing things over the three-quarter shirt; now it's the short sleeved button down shirt. This year, though, is the year of the cardigan. A must-have for warmth. The camisole is still worn, just under the three-quarter shirt. Still loving the woolly tights that I mentioned from last year. With my Christmas money, I went crazy and bought a pair of brown wool and cashmere tights. A steal at £35 ($60) -- that's a joke, as I nearly spent all my Christmas money. Sadly, the large ain't large enough and I have the uncomfortable, yet familiar crotch gap. However, still will rock the tights when needed.

How the hell did I get from telling you about the crazy things my pupils do to talking about tights? Well, I am who I am... the most random talker in the world. I try to keep myself straight when I type these entries to you, but sometimes, the real me has to bus' out.