On Saturday morning, my friend & I braved the shoppers in the the capital city.

I’ve always been brutally honest when I say that London ‘isn’t for me,’ – come to think of it, most capital cities haven’t been my favourite places when travelling; normally due to the mass amounts of people and hustle & bustle that comes with it. Being shoved into the armpit of a stranger on the tube just isn’t something I enjoy, what can I say?

Regardless, I was willing to give London another chance. I’ve been four times in my life and every single time something has gone wrong – I got lost, I got stressed, I wanted to cry (repeat until home). I wanted to like London, I really did. So, this time round, I went with an open, calm and prepared state of mind & embraced the ridiculousness that is Oxford Circus, on a Saturday in December. 

And, to my surprise, I did actually enjoy it. Of course, it had its overbearing moments (see ‘being shoved into the armpit of a stranger on the tube), but all in all, I had a lovely time.We wandered the streets, went into a couple of cloth shops; my very talented friend makes clothes, passed the infamous Breakfast Club (and its 20+ outside queue), grabbed a cupcake from the Hummingbird Bakery, had an amazing rum cocktail, visited the Saatchi gallery and whizzed around on the tube like a couple of underground moles.

It really opened my eyes to the appeal that London has to so many. Around every corner was something so different from what you’d just seen and, lets just say, the capital really does know how to do Christmas. It was so festive! I loved all the little markets and beautiful decorations. I spent the majority of my time looking up, rather than through my camera, but I did capture a few little moments, that I hope you’ll enjoy. 

So, yes, London. It’s official, I do like you. Thank you for being so nice, this time. Hopefully I’ll see you again soon. 

Have you ever visited? Where’s your favourite place in London? xo


Dear little blog, 

I think the last time we spoke I’d secured a new job; I was full of blogging enthusiasm and ready for a brand new start. Clearly, that didn’t exactly happen, but with good reason (at least, I like to think so)

If we rewind to April, I did indeed start my aforementioned new job and it was… really damn hard in parts, if I’m being completely honest, but massively rewarding overall. I never realised just quite how much children change between the ages of 6 and 11, but apparently it’s quite a bloody lot.

You will go from spelling out your surname (Sun-der-land) to innocent faced, eager to please little cherubs – to hearing ‘Miss Aston Villa! Miss Newcastle!’ being teasingly shouted across the playground, by a child the same height as you. Not to mention the Sex Ed classes (so many questions about periods. SO MANY); a four day residential (aka. working 22hrs and being paid for six); and the high-school transitions – I felt like if I could get through all of that, I could get through anything. 

So while I was still settling in to the new Key Stage, I was invited to a very last minute, and very out of the blue, PGCE interview. If you’ve been dipping in & out of this blog for a while (thank you, thank you, thank you), you may have heard this being mentioned from time to time – usually something along the lines of ‘another unsuccessful’. However, on this particular afternoon, I left work and headed off with my trusty Rainbow Fish lesson plan, that has been the best bit of reusable planning I’ve ever done, to give it my best and final shot. 

I was adamant that I would not apply again after three hard years of trying and being rejected – it is just plain shit to try so hard at something, that you know you would love so much, to just end up with an automated response and zero feedback to boot.

But if there’s one thing I’ve learnt lately, it’s that I’m a determined SOAB when I want to be. So I put it all behind me and for the last time, I jumped through all the hoops, I put on my best ‘please believe in me’ smile and mustered all the confidence I could find to get me through the three hour process.

And believe it or not, IT WORKED!

A few days later, I stared at the ‘conditional offer’ as if it was going to somehow change to an ‘unsuccessful’ before my very tear-filled eyes, as if it was all some cruel joke. It was emotional. I felt equal parts petrified, overwhelmed and ‘omfg I’m going to be a teacher.’

And I still feel this way, two months down the line. With a pinch more ‘petrified’ in the mix.

Now there’s exactly four weeks until I start at a new university, with new friends and a new trainee teacher status – and I can’t wait! I really can’t. Plus, I get to buy a shit load of new stationery, which sadly fills me with a lot of excitement.

So I hope you enjoy these little snippets, however few and far they may be between (because, lets face it, if there’s one thing people like to scare you with – it’s how little free time I will have come September) – maybe you’re an NQT, a trainee teacher to be, or you just still want to read my ramblings (for which I’m entirely grateful) as I start this new and slightly terrifying chapter of my life… Thank you either way.

Bring on the stickers! xo