For anyone whose main method of communication with me is this journal and/or who is not already aware, I got the corporate customer service job with Vodafone. The recruitment lady rang me while I was in Sainsbury's pasta and ethnic aisle, so the phone call was negotiated around trying to find somewhere to park my trolley where I wouldn't be in anyone's way and trying not to scare other shoppers with exclamations of good cheer. My start date isn't until 3rd January, which is causing some significant limbo-ish expressions, but a New Year start means I can bother Erik till he leaves at the end of November (hopefully not before my birthday but que sera sera - I'm not planning any celebrations anyway) and I'll be able to spend time with Geoff while he's visiting instead of getting home and going straight to bed every day, which I think is an accurate prediction of my first few weeks. I should also be able to go to midnight mass with Dad, which I might not have attempted had I had to be in work within the week. So good news there :)

( On learning languages, specifically Dutch. )

I've done quite a bit since my last entry, as is frequently the case these days. I know I used to update almost daily - sometimes more than once in a day - but the fact is that de nos jours I have either nothing to report or far too much going on to think of writing about it, especially as I don't think anyone but me reads most of my entries (which is fine by me, by the way. A journal is a journal, not a medium of communication).

( Warwick Castle visit. )

( I got an A for my French AS. )

( Jobs and church. )

( Orchestra and concerts. )

Of course lots of other things have happened, many not appropriate for a public post, and I've had my photo taken more studio-ily than Stafford College organised so more new user pictures may emerge in the coming weeks. Keep in touch by other means and you'll hear more about what's happening in my life, if anything. Oh, and I won't be at Dragon*Con this year because of funding issues and this interview. A shame but a necessary sacrifice. And Erik is teaching me a little Dutch while he remains in this country, and he has promised me a place to stay once he returns to the land of his fathers, so there will be some small compensation for the loss of his reassuring presence at my left elbow during rehearsals and concerts. He's only a little better at page-turning than I am though, which, while naturally inconvenient, is oddly comforting.

A bientot / tot straks.

Good evening (still just about). The wedding was lovely, brilliant Bible readings which I will find and post another time, and the non-biblical readings were the Scout and Guide promises and many congregation members saluted and made their promises along with the reader. The reception included campfire songs, which was not a plan suited to every guest's taste, but I think the happy couple enjoyed it and it was their day after all. The food was very good and to my delight I spent last night on an actual bed in a room of my own with my own personal bathroom before Elaine and Jess kindly took me to the station and I came home.

I've been at the parents' house all afternoon (after making sure my cats still recognised me and topping up their food), eating Mum's food and singing and playing the piano and shunting carriages on Dad's garden railway with the electric shunter named after me. The line is experiencing some subsidence and will have to be seen to.

For those who haven't already heard, the DWP has decided that I am no longer incapacitated and must head off fortnightly to the job centre, which attentive readers of earlier entries to this journal will recall is in a VERY inaccessible place. I'm appealing that decision, which means I stay on a version of ESA, but it does mean that my weekly income is reduced from a just-about-liveable £94 to the 'assessment rate' of £65. I will do my best. I really don't want to get back into four figures of my overdraft after six months of clawing my way to between £400 and £900 overdrawn (depending on whether payments have gone in or come out recently). I've just ordered groceries from ASDA, and if I spend no money at all in the next two weeks my next benefit payment will almost exactly cover my regular bills. How I will find the rest of my expenses I don't know, and my buspass runs out this week so I'll need to get onto that as well. I'll grit my teeth and do more telesurveys, and see what else I can find to cover the shortfall. I've applied for a mystery (to you, not to me, in case it doesn't work out - I'm not in a position to be accepting offers of unknown workloads) job and been told that someone will contact me for a telephone interview. No one has yet, so I'll contact them instead to see what if anything is going on. Busy busy, at least on the phone, which I can do from my bed. No fixed plans for the rest of the week, except to spend at least tomorrow in bed. I may attempt evening prayer but I make no promises.

I had my latest medical assessment today. When I got my letter confirming that I'd been deemed to be entitled to ESA I felt such relief - it took over 18 months for the system to accept that I am ill and need to receive disability benefits. Now I have been reassessed and may lose what they gave me, and I am conscious of the absence of security on this benefit. My condition is borderline in any case, it's not like I'm terminally ill or clearly disabled like people in wheelchairs (for which I am thankful), and after my previous experience of these medical assessments I have little confidence that my income will continue at its present level. JSA is horrible. You get much less money and fewer additional benefits and you have to go to the job centre every two weeks. Hanley job centre is near the top of a very steep hill up which no buses run, and they won't pay for a taxi. They also expect you to actively look for work, and if you can't do that you lose everything. I am now a little depressed about this. I hope and pray that the decision will go in my favour. If not I will have to go through yet another appeal process, which may well kill me.

After the assessment the parents and I went to Tamworth so Dad could find a car park which we did not in the end find, and we had a bite to eat in a cafe before they brought me home so I could go to the DCC at the primary school. I'm the secretary so I do rather have to attend to take minutes. I'm glad I did, it was a good meeting and I met the headteacher who is passionate and energetic, just what you want in a primary headteacher. I've done bits to the church newsletters, which I will finish tomorrow (today now), and I am going to bed. Bonne nuit.

Good afternoon. My recent appearance on the BBC news channel* has occupied much of the last week's energy, and my upcoming medical assessment on Wednesday (also the day of the DCC - I think I will stay at home on Thursday) will occupy that of the next few. Since I went to the BBC and had such a good experience I've got in with Moorlands Radio, a local not-for-profit community radio station and I hope to become a sort of classical concert reporter for them. I may even get press passes to get into concerts for free! The station is in Leek, which is a significant drawback as by the time I get there and back I have to go to bed for the rest of that day and at least the first half of the next (I went yesterday and I am indeed typing this from my bed), but I shouldn't have to go in more than one or two days a week, I can work from home and in any case being a volunteer I can do as much or as little as I want/am able to do. They're great people to work with, everyone's positive and enthusiastic without being terminally so. I do love broadcasting, I really can't explain it. If I can drag myself to Dragon*Con this year I may volunteer to do the odd podcast - something I can do sitting down and away from the hordes of inconsiderate lift users.

I'm going to see how I am a little later and possibly go to see Green Lantern. I think the morning in bed has been good for me - I haven't tested my legs since 8:30 this morning but my head is certainly less towel-filled and I can now go to stroke a cat without missing it entirely or misjudging the amount of force required (sorry Molly). I shall essay a trip to the bathroom (definitely not having a shower though, with apologies to potential fellow cinema-goers) and perhaps eat a bit of something. I've still got meat in the fridge that needs to be cooked up into something. Heaven only knows why I didn't put it in the freezer when I bought it. Foolishness. Perhaps something to do tomorrow - my calendar is beautifully blank for today and tomorrow.

To the bathroom! If I make it that far. Sshhh...

* Just for information, if you want a DVD of it my dad has made a couple for me to disseminate as required. I may also be able to send the file directly though I haven't seen it yet so can't promise.

I'm in Wetherspoons with 90 mins to kill till the bus that will take me to Newcastle. I may get the earlier one, I don't want to be late. I'm visiting a French lady called Martine in Newcastle at 7, to practise speaking French, and I'm not precisely sure where I need to ring the bell after the bus station or how long the walk from the bus stop to her house will take.

France was pretty good, by the way. The family I stayed with was kind and helpful, and they had loads of French friends round for dinner, though I got very little speaking practice done as 1) it took me too long to think of how to phrase what I wanted to say in the French I know so the conversation moved on before I was ready, and 2) whenever I spoke everyone else went silent and stared at me with varying expressions of encouragement so I felt like I could only speak if I had something earth-shattering to contribute. Only one child had to go to hospital, though she compensated for that by going twice, and there were no more than the expected cases of homesickness and inability to communicate in French to the point that host families thought the English children were either sickening for something or being deliberately uncommunicative. America was even better, my best holiday for a very long time. There are many many pictures, several of which will probably find their way onto Facebook in the course of time.

I'm glad to be back home, with my horrible cats and my nice solitary house where I'm not staying with anyone else and can do what I want (for example, it's so nice to be able once more to go without pyjamas, which always make me feel like I'm fully clothed in bed), though I would like to import the odd thing from the regions I've visited in the last month. I am rather tired by it all and glad to have sorted out orchestra music at least. Not too many expectations of me this week. I went to church with Dad for Easter/Pascha/Pâques which always takes it out of one but I love going and singing there which unquestionably makes it worthwhile.

To Newcastle.

P.S. The 'detect location' button thinks I'm in Swadlincote. Right initial letter...

Made it. Air France is a great airline to fly with, I recommend them. Couldn't eat some of the food but the staff were friendly and helpful and didn't make a big thing out of problems such as a wheelchair request not being passed from airport to airport, and the pilots are excellent, landings weren't bumpy at all. I had a screen in the back of the seat in front with lots of good films on, and they had Radio Classique, which is one of the presets on my phone's radio app. When I turned RC on they were playing the Franck symphony the NSSO is playing on 9th April! I'm sure it's that - it's definitely one of the pieces we're playing and I'm fairly confident it's not either of the others. Mags's groom is a pleasant fellow and the girls are lovely. I still don't know what to do with children. Comfy bed, nice chicken pie for lunch/breakfast (I was up in the night with an upset stomach so this morning I just went back to sleep after the girls had gone to school) and most of my possessions survived the aeroplane, so I'm a happy bunny. Note to self: don't put breakables (in this case a bathroom bag containing plastic razors) in the top of the bag. James has gone off to pick up his daughters from school and then there'll be a returning Megan as well so I'm going to take the opportunity to sort my hair out a bit and practise the songs I've brought for the wedding, which is on Sunday. Very soon. Maybe I should join in this marrying thing... *thinks* Then again, best not.

I've found a couple of people who provide French speaking practice over the phone/Skype and I intend to try out one of them while I'm in America, if I have time. It'd be good to get a bit more confident in speaking French before I go to actual Frenchpeopleland. French this morning was more useful than usual. Children really do need to be taught basic English structures in school - it was who/whom today and it corresponds pretty much exactly to the English rule, only they didn't know it in English so that wasn't of any use to them. I took shortbread biscuits in as it was my last class till after Easter, and I've got contact details for the teacher so I can get worksheets to practise on while I'm off on my travels.

Things I'm looking forward to:

seeing Mags and meeting the family, and being part of her wedding

the train experience (I am prepared for grottiness of accommodation - I travel on stinky Virgin trains and I can remember BR)

visiting New Orleans

NSSO concert (Saturday 9th April, 7:30pm at Wolstanton High School, overture: Elgar In the South, symphony: Franck, concerto: Grøndahl trombone concerto, soloist Quentin Duerden)

actually experiencing France and speaking French (I hope)

taking a month off from things here, including but not limited to church

hopefully getting the opportunity to teach English in Berlitz's virtual classroom when I get home

I took minutes at St Peter's AGM yesterday, in which there was some little strife. Who'd be a priest? Those won't get typed up till I get home from France - I've got enough to be getting on with. Met Erik for a farewell Sunday lunch afterwards, and talked at him a lot. Maybe it's because he's foreign, or maybe he's just quiet; in any case, he doesn't talk as much as I do. There's a meeting about the French trip this evening, back in Stafford, to which I must take public transport. I've got DVDs to return to Blockbuster, and fines to pay. I might get round to that this evening, or else I'll take them tomorrow and just pay the extra £2 in late fees. I've borrowed audiobooks from Stoke library (for free, unlike Staffordshire) to while away my various journeys and free hours, including two of their new-style audiobooks which come in self-contained units with a battery, and you just plug in your own earphones and away you go. Interesting concept, je crois, and cuts down on illegal copying. I confess I have added two of the books I've borrowed to my computer, mostly because I want to put them on my ippod so I can leave my heavy laptop at home. One is Bryan Gallagher's Barefoot in Mullyneeny, a relatively relaxed stroll through rural 1940s/50s Ireland, and the other is Nice Mr Blair's book A Journey. Both are read by their respective authors, and I must say I much prefer Bryan Gallagher's voice and reading. Roll on that solid 12h30 aeroplane journey. The other books, the ones in their own little magic talking boxes, are Khaled Hosseini's The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns, because I wanted something bouncy and cheery, and something called Atlantis by someone I forget, which really does sound entertaining. I'll let you know.

Right, laundry beckons, and thence once more to Stafford. Molly, you are both unsavoury and persistent.

I have been looking into further study of languages, on the basis that my plan to move to a Francophone nation and learn by doing may be scuppered by the wickedness of my abhorrent face¹ this blasted disease (which I am daily more convinced is messing with my brain chemistry), and have made contact with the Open University. I am looking specifically at the Modern Language Studies honours degree course choices outlined below.

( Open University BA (Hons) Modern Language Studies (360 credits) )

There is the odd downside: StudyingCostsMoney(TM) is the main one (though the OU fees are A LOT less than a traditional campus-based degree would be), and it would take at least three years and very probably much longer to complete the course. Three years would be just about bearable - that's how long normal degrees take after all - but they seem to almost assume that it'll take longer: 5-6 years part-time. I could work my ever-increasing buttocks off and deplete my current accruement (that's an awkward- and slightly vulgar-looking word) of energy and health to get it all done in the target 3-year period (I bet I could do it in 2 with God and a following wind) but then I'd be left with another several years of working my way back up even to this level, which I'd sooner avoid and which would negate the doing of it in a shorter period in any case.

In other news, yesterday's chamber orchestra rehearsal with a run-through of my songs for the 30th January concert was productive, this morning's French oral exam went as well as could be expected (she unexpectedly asked questions on every topic we'd studied, not just the one I'd prepared, but I think I managed alright), the funeral I co-verged at went off successfully, I am enjoying being only a few hundred pounds into my overdraft after far too long hovering at its absolute limit, and I can't get this blessed footnote code to work properly. It doesn't throw up suicidal messages, which is nice, but it doesn't do anything at all. I'll stick to being glad it's playing contentedly, even if it's only playing on its own.

I am effing exhausted and earnestly desire my bed. Off to orchestra to Librarian at brass players... :'(

¹ Name that song lyric.

( Footnote to go with the degree description. )

Mixture day today. I've had the flu for the last week or so and had to spend some of those days at the parents' house because I wasn't doing so well alone in my house, but I'm back here now and almost reconciled to leaving the heating on controlled by the thermostat. I came back, in fact, in time to let the builders in to replace the rotten floor in my front room, so I Have A New Floor That Is Actually Flat and anyone who comes into my house will be required to christen it with at least one small bounce to prove its soundness. Replacing a floor is a noisy business but worth it afterwards when the room smells freshly of sawdust and the floor doesn't slope visibly (and tangibly) towards the door. When I walked on it the first time it felt like I was walking uphill because I've got so used to there being at least 4" between the carpet and the doorstep, depending on the weight of anyone who happened to be standing by the door. Bounce.

But today. I felt better for ten whole solid hours' sleep so I perhaps unwisely headed out to pay in a cheque (by the way, the paying in machine at the bank wasn't accepting cheques and when I asked the attendant woman to put a sign on it she drew my attention to the small print at the bottom of the initial screen instead of going and getting a piece of paper and a marker pen like in the old days) and do a few bits in Hanley before taking some DVDs back to Blockbuster. After a very few minutes I had realised that the trip was premature but I don't go to Hanley very often and I was already there so I did what I intended, except for buying the CD I was looking for because CEX don't stock CDs any more, HMV didn't have what I wanted and there is no longer another CD shop in what the damned council will persist in calling the 'City Centre'. No city centre anywhere in the country has only one shop that sells CDs: stop trying to make prosperity happen by over-optimistically changing Hanley's name. I managed to heave myself back to the bus station in the end despite everything, and somehow I managed to get from Hanley to Stoke on the 23 without throwing up and arrived after several stops at Blockbuster, where I avoided paying a fine by instead putting those four pounds towards further rentals. If one is going to have to pay money in any case, one may as well get something for it. The store manager seems a touch ... unusual - today she cast about for Christmas music to put on, fortunately not till I'd left, and swapped my unwieldy overlarge novelty Millie's Cookies bag for a more manageable Blockbuster carrier bag amid much squeeing because her sister will love the cookie bag and all her presents will fit in it. Strange girl.

But my favourite part of the afternoon has to be the gentleman who got off the bus with me, despite living further up the road, and carried my bags and lent me an arm all the way to my door to make sure I got home without incident. Public thanks to that man.

This evening Catherine's relations brought unexpected riches in the form of a positive airing-cupboard-ful of bedding and towels and a large heavy Christmas-wrapped box-shaped object, but didn't stay for a cup of tea despite my having gone to the shop earlier for milk. While I was paying for the goods there, incidentally, the Asian assistant caught sight of the picture, slightly vertically stretched, on my buspass and said he could see that 'in my youth I had been slim'. So I am now both aged and obese, thank you, merry Christmas to you too if you celebrate it. Harrumph.

My cats want their supper and I want my bed, so goodnight to you.