That's, very nearly, Miss Cameron to you.

I am one day away from finishing my final teaching placement and have had my final grades sent in. Apparently I'm Very Good, Good and Good in the various standards that we need to hit. Being told this by my mentor made me cry. I have worked so bloody hard for this, and to have grades like that has really made it worth it, so big up the GSAL Physics Massive and all of that.

I'm nearly a teacher. An actual, bona fide, honest-to-goodness (or should that be, Very Goodness, arf...) teacher. Who's allowed to teach her own classes and have a classroom and everything. Well, once I get a job anyway. But really, me, a teacher. Who'da thunk it?

I'm now able to look forward to summer (wherever I may be living) especially as I can now get on a plane without having a panic attack. Glasgow, Cornwall (by plane, carbon footprint is getting bigger by the day...), Crete and London to welcome a Duffodill back to the U.K. for a year. Not sure where else to go or what to do, so any suggestions are welcome!

What's weird about this whole teaching business, was that at no point did I think "I don't want to do this". Not once. I thought it was hard work, and I was tired and stressed and missing my boyfriend, but not for a second did I sit down and think to myself "This isn't worth it". I must be mad.

I'm also old now, well, older. The birthday was good fun, though not really "My Birthday" as it was sort of me tagging along with Ollie's dad's birthday celebrations. Would have been nice to do something with PGCE folk, or just Ollie, but nevermind. Next year, hey? I seem to be facing all my fears at once (bar spiders, never, never spiders). Flying, dentists and, on my birthday, heights. For Christmas, Ollie and his brother bought his dad a go on the Go Ape! course at the Forest of Dean, so for my birthday, Ollie bought me a place too! For all that I was a bit nervous, being able to chuck myself off Tarzan swings and massive zip lines was oddly liberating. Living in a terraced house, shouting and screaming are things that are often frowned upon, so trusting my karabiners to the pull of gravity was very strange, but I really, really enjoyed it. Bar the moments when Ollie and Dan saw fit to leap up and down and make all the trees wobble, it was jolly good fun. Maybe I'm more daring than I thought, considering I stand up infront of 20-odd kids (or should that be 20 odd kids?) per class, plus someone who's watching my every move, I can't exactly be called a coward, right?

More than anything, I'm looking forward to Friday. Since September, my weekends have been work-based, or I've had to be thinking about 9am Monday morning, but this weekend, I don't. And I won't have to again till September either. I get to go out with PGCE folk, and I finally get to see Ollie without having my "so, photocopy X for year 7, and make worksheet Y for year 8, oh, and year 9 have a detention" head on. He's owed at least this. Plus I get to knit without feeling guilty. Oh my!

Finally, going up to Glasgow on the 1st of June for the first half of "Activities Week". Looking forward to seeing Raffito and Becca, and to seeing Ka(!) at long last. I think it'll be a week of charity shop-shopping, beer in the park and teaching Raffito hilarious (but not rude) new words. Hopefully go home via Lancaster to annoy the boy, and then onto a week of geekery and Planetariums for the rest of Activities Week, and pub lunches. Marvellous.

TTFN!