The Update (LiveJournal Post)

I know all million of you who read this are dying to know what happened next. Nosey bastards. ;)

The guy, whose name is Graham, with whom I had the interview (major accent - it took me a moment to snap into 'English accent deciphering mode) called me about 5 minutes before I was expecting him to. Which means I jumped out of my skin when the phone rang. I was already a bundle of nerves, but suddenly my breathing was laboured and I was sweaty. My heart was pounding in my chest. I thought it might explode for a moment. I really was terrified.

He was very friendly, introduced himself, then passed the phone to a lady named Claire, who was the Department Head for the Third Year. I had an additional moment of panic when I wondered if it was the same Claire that works with Stephen. Obviously not thinking right, because he doesn't even work at this university. It wouldn't have mattered if she was the same Claire anyway, she wouldn't have known who I am at all. It was just panic, plain and simple.

So he asks me questions. Not many, and simple ones like "Why do you want to come to school here" (blahblahblah its the best university ever..) "What make you want to be a teacher" (I actually told the truth on this one, though I later thought up a better answer. I said that I didn't at first, but that as time came on and I got sucked into it, I realised that I really liked it and that I was good at it.) He asked me why I wanted to teach in England, and I got to throw in my global perspective commentary and managed to avoid stating something like I want the hell out of the US. He asked about my teaching philosophy and about my experience.

I think it safe to say that I blew him away. After each answer I would give he would say something like "Oh, excellent answer, my my,yes, most excellent". He was stunned silent a time or two, and made comments about my seriously hefty amount of experience. I got to talk about critical pedagogy, and mentioned all of the work I have done with inclusion and early childhood.

He told me when it was my turn to ask questions that the only reason that I wasn't in the third year was because they could not give me a degree without my going through the second year. That he thinks some of my classes will still transfer, and that the second year should be pretty easy for me. He said that he was excited to have me, that he looked forward to meeting with me as soon as I could get there.

Here was Stephen's response...

Amy (6/11/2007 7:18:31 AM): He said they are excited about having me.
Stephen (6/11/2007 7:18:58 AM): that's good
Amy (6/11/2007 7:19:03 AM): and that it was a shame that he can't put me in the third year.
Stephen (6/11/2007 7:19:06 AM): i knew they'd love you
Amy (6/11/2007 7:19:16 AM): you /knew/?
Amy (6/11/2007 7:19:21 AM): how did you know that?
Stephen (6/11/2007 7:19:25 AM): well you're amazing

Aww! how sweet!

Anyway, it went very well and I feel emotionally better. I can physically still feel the effects of the nervousness... my back aches. I think I might curl up in bed and rest, work on my study guide for the math test tomorrow, and spend time with me. And maybe Stephen. Or whoever else I happen to talk to.

This Morning (LiveJournal Post)

Once again I am up early. Actually, though, that is deceptive. 'Early' is a subjective term. I was actually supposed to be up at 4, but didn't actually manage to GET up until 5. I'm tired. I am a little concerned with how tired I have been lately. It seems harder and harder to get up in the mornings, and forget any sort of conversation between Stephen and I that doesn't involve my begging him for more time to sleep. Lucky for me he is busy at work lately, so he doesn't seem to mind.

This morning, however, I fought myself to get up early. I have an interview at 7 am. With the Department Head of the Second Year Programme at Canterbury Christchurch University. See, and this is still partially hush hush, as I haven't posted the 'big announcement', I was accepted. But not into the Third Year like I had hoped, but the Second Year. I was told last week. Then they threw this interview at me. With the Department Head. And told me, "It's ok, Dearie (yes, dearie... that was what she said...) it will be fine." And now I am a bit in a panic. Does it mean that there is still a chance they won't accept me? But I've already told both Kim and Brian and the shit has already hit the fan. I can't go backwards... and I don't want to.

Anyway, I'm terribly nervous. A little over an hour until the interview and I feel like I have 2 options - bomb it and screw my future on a few levels, or ace it. In my imagination it gets me into the Third Year. And yet I am even mixed up about that. I am not eligible for a spousal visa until I have lived with Stephen for 2 years. If I /do/ get into the third year, and I don't find a job very quickly after graduation, then I can't stay. If I stay in the second year, it costs significantly more in tuition, but I will be there 2 years, and eligible for that spousal visa afterwards, taking some of the pressure off of me finding a job that will support a work visa that quickly. But I'd like to finish this degree already. I'm tired of /still/ working on a stupid bachelors degree. I want to move onto something that seems more productive. A Masters degree, maybe. Or *gasp* actually teaching.

Stephen says that this interview is just a formality. I can't really comprehend that an interview with a DEPARTMENT HEAD is a formality. He may be right, but he also said that /he/ would be terrified if he were in my shoes. And that just makes me feel all the more comfortable. Yeah right.

I just have to hold onto the thought that the world is perfect and things happen as they should. This won't stop my moving (yay positive knowing!).


*sighs* 1 hour to go until that interview. Nervous....

05:53 am - nightmare... livejournal post

I am a vivid dreamer. This is the biggest reason that I don't like living by myself. There is no one there when the nightmares come. And they do come, a lot. I have nightmares a lot. The worst ones are the ones that I can't get out of, the ones where I finally wake myself up by screaming in my sleep. Those are bad. But the painful ones, the /really/ painful ones that I can never seem to forget, are the ones that are so sad that I cry in my sleep. Sometimes even cry myself awake.

Just now I woke up crying from a nightmare. A bad, painful one.

My grandmother, whom I love very much, is dying of Alzheimer's. In my dream, I went to the nursing home to have lunch with her. She didn't recognize me. I had Boo with me and he was scared by the situation, and it got bad enough that I had to leave before I planned to in order to take him home. So I kissed grandma goodbye and I walked with her back to her bed. There were really long green cords attached to her, and she had to drag them along with her. They must have been heavy, just for the sheer length of them. They trailed out of sight behind her in the corridor. When I got grandma back to her her I bent down and gave her a kiss and told her that I loved her, and she grabbed onto me and started screaming. She couldn't speak well, it was mostly few words, but it was screaming in my ear, and at first I couldn't understand her... but then it was her begging me to take her home, to get her out of there, please please don't leave, Mamy... and she shocked me when she called me Mamy, grandma doesn't call me Mamy so I looked down at her and it wasn't grandma, it was older niece, and she was screaming at me and she was her baby size but she was so old and wizened and they were grabbing her arms to rip her away from me and strapping her down onto her bed and she was screaming... so I wrapped her in my arms and held her so tight and I started to cry in my dream. She held onto me and looked in my eyes and said "bow... Mamy.... bow...." and I asked her if she wanted a bow and a ribbon for her hair and she started to cry these great big huge tears from her huge eyes staring at me and nodded and I was sobbing now in my dream so hard and they wouldn't let me take her home and I had to go, Boo was screaming in terror in the background, and I told her I loved her and I had to let her go and walk away as older niece/grandma screamed "Mamy! Mamy!" in the distance and I woke up just sobbing, my face already soggy from how much I had been crying.

Every time I have a crying dream in the last few months it is about grandma. I know I'm sad about it, I feel guilty that I can't/don't get up there to see her more. But I woke up convinced that she is in my head on purpose. Not to hurt me or scare me, but just because she misses me. I want to go and see her, but I'm scared to. I can't ask her if she is coming into my dreams on purpose. I really needed someone to talk to about it, but Stephen must be busy because he didn't answer when I texted his phone, and sister didn't answer hers. I hate waking someone just for a nightmare. But what I need, what I really need, is to be able to wrap myself in someone's arms and sob it out when I wake from a dream like this. I am going to have to do some work to keep this from clinging to me all day long.

God, my heart aches. Sometimes I hate dreams. I want to stop crying now...

Current Mood: scared and sad

Nightmare... (LiveJournal Post)

I am a vivid dreamer. This is the biggest reason that I don't like living by myself. There is no one there when the nightmares come. And they do come, a lot. I have nightmares a lot. The worst ones are the ones that I can't get out of, the ones where I finally wake myself up by screaming in my sleep. Those are bad. But the painful ones, the /really/ painful ones that I can never seem to forget, are the ones that are so sad that I cry in my sleep. Sometimes even cry myself awake.

Just now I woke up crying from a nightmare. A bad, painful one.

My grandmother, whom I love very much, is dying of Alzheimer's. In my dream, I went to the nursing home to have lunch with her. She didn't recognize me. I had Boo with me and he was scared by the situation, and it got bad enough that I had to leave before I planned to in order to take him home. So I kissed grandma goodbye and I walked with her back to her bed. There were really long green cords attached to her, and she had to drag them along with her. They must have been heavy, just for the sheer length of them. They trailed out of sight behind her in the corridor. When I got grandma back to her her I bent down and gave her a kiss and told her that I loved her, and she grabbed onto me and started screaming. She couldn't speak well, it was mostly few words, but it was screaming in my ear, and at first I couldn't understand her... but then it was her begging me to take her home, to get her out of there, please please don't leave, Mamy... and she shocked me when she called me Mamy, grandma doesn't call me Mamy so I looked down at her and it wasn't grandma, it was Katie, and she was screaming at me and she was her baby size but she was so old and wizened and they were grabbing her arms to rip her away from me and strapping her down onto her bed and she was screaming... so I wrapped her in my arms and held her so tight and I started to cry in my dream. She held onto me and looked in my eyes and said "bow... Mamy.... bow...." and I asked her if she wanted a bow and a ribbon for her hair and she started to cry these great big huge tears from her huge eyes staring at me and nodded and I was sobbing now in my dream so hard and they wouldn't let me take her home and I had to go, Boo was screaming in terror in the background, and I told her I loved her and I had to let her go and walk away as katie/grandma screamed "Mamy! Mamy!" in the distance and I woke up just sobbing, my face already soggy from how much I had been crying.

Every time I have a crying dream in the last few months it is about grandma. I know I'm sad about it, I feel guilty that I can't/don't get up there to see her more. But I woke up convinced that she is in my head on purpose. Not to hurt me or scare me, but just because she misses me. I want to go and see her, but I'm scared to. I can't ask her if she is coming into my dreams on purpose. I really needed someone to talk to about it, but Stephen must be busy because he didn't answer when I texted his phone, and Kelli didn't answer hers. I hate waking someone just for a nightmare. But what I need, what I really need, is to be able to wrap myself in someone's arms and sob it out when I wake from a dream like this. I am going to have to do some work to keep this from clinging to me all day long.

God, my heart aches. Sometimes I hate dreams. I want to stop crying now...