Another week, another set of events.
In between organising for a feral cat to be neutered and the usual school and domestic routine - ordering black kitchen worktops to be fitted before Christmas, I've been with the nursery children again. I was born to teach small children to dance, and I knew this when I was their size. From my first strict stick-knocking ballet mistress to the whacky eccentric dance school owners, I've known I wanted to be one of them.
This week watching the nursery children mastering their moves was very gratifying. Their energy keeps me going.
I did the Hyper Japan event again.
This week I was curious enough to turn up to something I don't usually do... a personal testimonial. I've always turned these down in the past, but this one was for a fashion brand. A camera around 18 inches from my face, capturing every facial tic while I described a relationship was an intimate scenario. The story itself was easy to tell, but I felt exhausted on the way home.
The preparations for Christmas have started, I have a stash of exciting things hidden. I wonder if that's the reason for my sudden tiredness this week.
A promotion in Leicester Square ticked off my list, along with a hostess job at the Emirates Stadium. I wasn't keen on it when I saw the list of requirements. Unlike Kim Kardashian, I'm not attempting to break the internet with a back view of my oiled up bun.
There was a strict uniform to be adhered to, I tried on the dress in my size... It was slightly uncomfortably tight. I decided to go a size up. There was ONE dress a size up on the rail... the only one. I grabbed it quickly and struggled to pull it up before I realised that ALL the sizes of all the dresses were incorrect. This one was smaller than the one I'd just taken off, I couldn't even do it up. Now I was stuck. The size 6 girls were swamped. A Frenchman was holding his trousers in front of him like Weightwatcher's slimmer of the year making desperate sounds which cries for a belt. He didn't get one... He was saying "I can get another PERSON in here with me." I was doubled over laughing. It turned out there was no dress to be found to fit me, so I was sent home (with pay). Oh well. I suppose I could have got into the Frenchman's outfit with him...
I have a possibility for next week, but I don't want to jinx it so that's all for now.
In between organising for a feral cat to be neutered and the usual school and domestic routine - ordering black kitchen worktops to be fitted before Christmas, I've been with the nursery children again. I was born to teach small children to dance, and I knew this when I was their size. From my first strict stick-knocking ballet mistress to the whacky eccentric dance school owners, I've known I wanted to be one of them.
This week watching the nursery children mastering their moves was very gratifying. Their energy keeps me going.
I did the Hyper Japan event again.
This week I was curious enough to turn up to something I don't usually do... a personal testimonial. I've always turned these down in the past, but this one was for a fashion brand. A camera around 18 inches from my face, capturing every facial tic while I described a relationship was an intimate scenario. The story itself was easy to tell, but I felt exhausted on the way home.
The preparations for Christmas have started, I have a stash of exciting things hidden. I wonder if that's the reason for my sudden tiredness this week.
A promotion in Leicester Square ticked off my list, along with a hostess job at the Emirates Stadium. I wasn't keen on it when I saw the list of requirements. Unlike Kim Kardashian, I'm not attempting to break the internet with a back view of my oiled up bun.
There was a strict uniform to be adhered to, I tried on the dress in my size... It was slightly uncomfortably tight. I decided to go a size up. There was ONE dress a size up on the rail... the only one. I grabbed it quickly and struggled to pull it up before I realised that ALL the sizes of all the dresses were incorrect. This one was smaller than the one I'd just taken off, I couldn't even do it up. Now I was stuck. The size 6 girls were swamped. A Frenchman was holding his trousers in front of him like Weightwatcher's slimmer of the year making desperate sounds which cries for a belt. He didn't get one... He was saying "I can get another PERSON in here with me." I was doubled over laughing. It turned out there was no dress to be found to fit me, so I was sent home (with pay). Oh well. I suppose I could have got into the Frenchman's outfit with him...
I have a possibility for next week, but I don't want to jinx it so that's all for now.
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