It's Official

I am officially back. I just changed my facebook regional network from Switzerland to Bristol. [Edit: I wrote Geneva instead of Bristol but that would make no sense.]

Interesting observation: I had 50 friends in the Swiss network and 51 in the Bristol one. You know what I'm like with things like that - it just says to me that I have tipped the balance between here and there. Which is kinda what it was like returning...

I had an amazing time in Geneva. I saw friends that I love dearly; got the chance to do things I never thought I would (more to follow on everything that the gig taught me and what it was like, including mental photos!); learnt TONS (was talking to a BRS friend the night I got back and she said that she had felt it was going to be a time of... and we both said together: "accelerated learning" which was so true); got real direction from God as to what He is planning next and a bit about later too...; had a chance to chill; to say goodbye to some people; to get re-encouraged about what was important when I left - like prayer and worship, both of which are really starting up here too, seemingly; to catch the lovely GVA peeps up on what has been going on - which felt like a lot. Indeed, when I saw how much Mia (YAGs 20ish month year old darling) had grown and was talking, making sense and singing worship songs and all it was like she had done the same amount of intense growing as I had these two months! Not that I'm claiming to make sense you understand, I just like obscure imagery. Not the best structured paragraph I ever wrote but I suppose what I am saying is that it was a good time, in a jumbled thought processes kind of a way. I celebrated my 5 month rebirth day whilst there and it was nice to do that there at the retreat where so much had happened the year before (I don't think I ever wrote that story did I! That really has to happen...).

And I felt different. At times like I had already moved on even. Which is right and good and I am grateful that, even so, I still have these blessed friendships. I feel like I am in a place of enjoying it for what it was and letting it be something different as time goes by. Not my last visit for sure but it was the final chapter of something. And the beginning of something new!! :-D

The more I change the more I see there is to change but that is cool 'cause I have a really short attention span!

Coming back my flat was finally a home. It had curtains! Another symbol that I am really settled here now. I have decided on where I will make my home church (it turns out not my sister's chuch but the other one - which is a shame but kinda cool as my church's sister church is my sister's church which makes a lot of sense to me); found a few great things screaming out to get involved in (like co-rewriting the training for the discipleship/evangelistic programme and doing a wholeness course which ties in perfectly with what I've been learning... I will let you know how that goes); reconnected with my lovely new friends (who I'm going away with this weekend!); and changed my network.

Which tips the balance to 51. Also the percentage that gives someone a majority share and priority. My return to La Suisse is over, I am back for the long haul and while the trip was great and I love you guys tons and always will, I am fully at home here.

Until God says otherwise anyway :-)

Not the post I was going to write next

I want to vent about how I have not been a very good Christian today. I had another post in mind, hence not forseeing this. I also didn't intend to be a not very good Christian.

I just didn't intend hard enough to try and be alright at it.

I've managed to be blah and non-seeking, non-joyful, non-life-giving, non-progressive, non-interested, non-alive. It's not because all I did was walk and sit in Starbucks and walk and sit in Starbucks and walk - that isn't great but it has all the potential in the world to give glory to God if it was His idea. It was the way I half-heartedly said "you have this day" and then proceeded to make no effort. Not in the physical where things were limited and I had no real good ideas and was a little weary, but mentally I just didn't bother. I lived in my own stupid, selfish, unholy head; thinking about things I KNOW I have no business thinking about (not like dirty thoughts or anything, just not looking to God and getting stressed and dwelling on the past and wondering about the future and daydreaming instead of focusing on what He has and hasn't said and all that jazz) and generally not actually making the choice for my actions (albeit synaptic ones) to reflect my ideals.

How bad is this for example: I was not really doing much, my battery had died having spent most of the day on my laptop, I was too worn out with too many bags to go outside and it was cold and raining anyway. As a last resort sitting in Starbucks I tried to read my bible but then I decided that, given I was tired, maybe God wanted to speak to me through dreams; so I had a 2 hour nap instead. I basically told Him to come and see me when He was ready and then curled up with my earphones in.

When you are visiting it is like you have to spend all your time making the most of the opportunity to see people. I didn't have any lined up today (aside from music practice this eve) but I was OK with that - it's going to be a pretty long one tomorrow and I did move my stuff to Anna's (giving Beautiful Brian a break) which made it not totally unproductive. With no plans or distractions I had a readymade opportunity to spend quality time with God instead; and I chose to think about the songs I need to learn, moan about my aches and kick back like a lazy cow. I didn't even do any maths. I didn't even try and it only occured to me this eve how that must have made God feel - like He was too much effort.

Sorry God. I'm going to try harder tomorrow. This feeling really sucks you know, I've let Him down. When it gets a bit tougher I'm supposed to up the anti, not give up.

One thing's for sure - I'll need His help.

Nice to be in Geneva, 'Citing!

[I wrote this on Tuesday... there is a part II to come...]

I was talking to my mum yday and she observed that I had not actually written anything in my blog about the weekend retreat that I came to Geneva for... this is not because it was rubbish, far from it, I just didn't know quite what to share. A brief overview would be that I was TOTALLY full of joy and learned a lot about prayer - a main point I came away with being that righteousness is a key factor in the effectiveness thereoff... which is cool and given my name means pure not entirely unexciting (your name being the first prophetic thing to be said over your life!).

So that was great and I had a lovely time with friends - writing music, playing music, catching up on what has seemed a VERY long 2 months, celebrating my 5 month rebirthday, playing silly word games, eating fondu etc etc etc

And then yday I was like "What to do with this week?".

I came back for 10 days because I wanted to do the retreat and church and as I could not decided between the two went for the both. Midweek there is YAGs, music practise, pub quiz and, well, other good opps to catch up with friends... but it was basically looking like a bit of an empty time (albeit a chance to work). Not so now...

Last night at the quiz a coupla us were moved to offer to pray for our friend the quiz master/'ents coordinator at this main English speaking pub in Geneva called Pickwick's. Having been limping all night and clearly in a lot of pain, well, it just seemed right. She was well up for it, until she interpreted correctly what we had said... whereupon she refused. Well acknowledged as her right! However, realising that what she had heard was pLay for her we were like "what do you mean Yes?!" Before we knew it she had offered us the warm up slot for the band playing on Friday at Halloween!!!!!

So, we have a gig, all we need now is to be a band. As all involved are total music geeks we simply can't say no to this opportunity, even if we end up being dreadful. I comfort myself that I don't live here anymore so it doesn't really matter but I am still full of too much nervous energy to sleep and am feeling far too sick to eat a thing.

Another element in play is that we need to be dressed up. I think that is the thing scaring our otherwise far too gifted pianist... drummer boy just doesn't want to have to lug his kit around... my spitfire on guitar feigns nerves but is awesome and has done this before and then there's me... Arggggghhh!

But yet this is a total blessing and excitement and, I kid you not, sitting there in the pub about an hour before it came up I was thinking that the one thing I regretted about last year was not taking the opportunity to do a gig there. What is it with God answering prayers we don't even speak out? It's like He's saying "I love you and just want to bless you for the sake of it".

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!!!

Christian Hell Hole

On Monday I went to dinner at one of my new friends flats (grammar?). I very much buy into the New Testament model of faith related meal provision, particularly when it involves 3 courses. When I first went to GVA I joined a church to meet people obliged to be friendly that wouldn’t try and sleep with me. I achieved both and called them my “wholesome” friends. Now I’m back in BRS some of the people I have reconnected with are those that I met in the pub over Christmas. They hold somewhat different views to my Swiss crew; thus, for the sake of continuity (and ‘cause it makes me smile) I shall refer to them as my “unwholesome” friends.

One of the things we discussed was the university residence that their flatmate used to live in. This particular one is called ‘Clifton Hill House’ but, due to the dominating number of Christians (get in there), it got rechristened ‘Christian Hell Hole’. Apparently they would do things like give away toasties whilst inviting them to Alpha courses.

The irony of the name, combined with the cheesiness (literally and in reference to stereotyped behaviour) of the gesture amused me. As did the following comment:

“Why would I become a Christian. They’d only stop bringing me toasties… AND then I’d have to make them for other people?!”

Woah. Talk about profound.

I used to be the toastie receiver. Just to clarify: a toastie is a grilled cheese sandwich. And I am being metaphorical. Before I went to Geneva I lived in the roof of a church with a load of other students, most of who were, inevitably, Christian. I KNEW about the whole reaching out thing. The church would put on free BBQs for freshers and all year long we would get leftovers sent upstairs from various other events. I seldom had to do food shopping. Also, a lot of my flatmates had this whole “I’ve got to be a good witness thing going on” and I can’t lie, it is nice to be surround by people that are consciously making an effort to be friendly.

Then of course going to Switzerland and looking for friends: you can’t go wrong turning up at a church and saying I don’t believe in this but I want to hang out with you and I will listen. People were falling over themselves to spend time with me – not least when I started showing signs of cracking – live conversions would be such a hit on the God channel.

Ok, I do exaggerate a *little*. However, the premise remains that I am batting for the other side now. Which in turns means that I have to go out and make the toastie. Or, failing that, the BBQ. Or, failing that, the excessive niceness. It really must be worth it.

Today (Tuesday but what with the no internet yet I am blogging in advance.) I woke up in a terrible mood. I have a tendency to react quite strongly to lots of activity, by getting really fatigued and 'low mooded' and as such have to be careful not to follow my natural 'go go go go STOP' model. I had overdone it slightly by staying out till 4 am at aforementioned dinner party (OMGoodness you have to watch 'Big Stan'. If you can get past the gay rape premise you will LOVE it. It’s got the feel good factor of Sister Act. Well, some of you may love it, Carolyn definitely won’t ;-)) having been away all weekend visiting and making music in the South. So on Monday I was starting to go and by Tuesday really wasn’t in a good place. Physically, conversationally, compassionately... it was all a big no no.

Or no no no no STOP. Stop letting things get in my way and hold me back from living life and serving God. See I have found that when you don't want to do anything, the last thing you should do it nothing. I started writing this post before I left the house and, well, with strength I would not have had before, I actually went out and got involved. (Which by the way is AMAZING and such fantastic encouragement given the trepidation with which I begin a year of high demands.) This day that meant helping with the welcome BBQ at the church I used to live in. Alongside the people I used to take advantage of and argue with!

So I gave out the proverbial toasties (which is not a grilled cheese sandwich with proverbs hidden inside fortune cookie stylee though how AMAZING would that be?!), made a conscious effort to care and found that I really did. With a hell of a lot of energy! I was reminded of exactly why I changed sides. And it felt good.

After all, everybody is a slave to someone. Why make friends with the ones that have toasties when you can be friends with the One that provided the toasties in the first place – unlimited supply.

The Anaesthesia is Wearing Off

When I got the placement in Geneva it really felt like I was being pushed out of the country. I applied 'cause it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss out on but I was comfortable in my existence, miserable though it was, and didn't actually want to go. Every stage of interview I went through I said "Yes" but only because I could not, reasonably, say “No”. I said to my mum back then that if I got offered the post I would probably do the same thing but I still spent my whole time making excuses for why it was not a good idea (they were crap by the way). As I made the phone call to refuse the offer, I remember the rainbow that I wrote about 2 posts ago and confirmed.

And so, in a moment, my life was changed.

When I went to La Suisse I took with me a lot of baggage (literally and figuratively speaking). There was a lot of unpacking that needed doing - it turned out that (metaphorically) I had gone and destroyed my heart completely and needed a transplant. At the time it was remarkable how I managed to let go so much of the past and just enjoy life again. With England in the background everything of before seemed a long way away and not at all important. With my new heart I was healed!

Yet there is a time to mourn and a time to dance. England is no longer a fuzzy memory but a very real and tangible place in which I reside. Amidst all the excitement about God giving to me everywhere that I put my foot I am realising that, though the battle is won, there are a lot of skeletons to bury.

It feels like, post-op and post-fabulous feeling of being made whole, the numbness is wearing off and with that I am aware of the tenderness around the incision.

Now, don't worry, I am not writing this in floods of tears. The main initial pain was incredibly avoided with the anaesthesia that is God's love. The new heart has been in place sufficiently long that rejection is unlikely and I still have a large number of carers to check I am stable and keep the wounds clean: Ana last night fed me the most sophisticated TV dinner known to man – stuffed trout with steamed veg, then totally let me vent to her; tonight I am off to house group with my sister and btw the leaders are North American which makes me feel strangely at home!

All of which is great 'cause while it heals I am at a higher risk of infection. For this reason I must be particularly vigilant with aftercare and staying away from major causes of disease till I am strong enough to “be a doctor” myself.

I just have to remember that the pain is part of the joy; acknowledging the past is part of the release from it. It needs to happen which is why I must neither avoid nor fear it. If I stayed in the Geneva mindset it would be akin to drug abuse, keeping anaesthetised long after appropriate and just running away. I know enough people that don’t face up to the emotional fall out of catastrophe to realise that this is the only way ahead. I don’t want to end up smacked off my head on pain killers – figuratively or not. Sometimes you just have to feel it.

But, and it is more of a huge J-Lo sized BUT, there is a huge difference with the inclusion of a new heart. My health is so much better that, while the tenderness is there, I am able to deal with the strain. Obviously it is the God aspect of that which makes a difference. I am fitter than ever before and it is sure not by my own strength.

I totally didn't realise (perhaps naïvely) that I still need to do this but I am content that it is all part of the process and that, one day, the scars will not hurt.

And so, over time, my life will yet again change.

[I didn’t write the rainbow post thinking I would write this a few days later by the way; it just seems to have fitted together as certain things have happened. Not surprising, God is cool like that.]

Bows Are Back in Fashion

I’m publishing this post and last Thurs at the same time.  That is because, lovely though it is, my little nest does not have much web action and I only have uni-based semi-reliable connections.  Today I am coming to you from chez-ma-soeur though I actually wrote it last night.  Sneaky eh?

So, while I cannot give you a run down on what church was like (as technically I have not been yet) I can give a bit of a low down on Bristol this week.

Well, it has rained a lot.  An old friend from Woodies came to stay on Friday and that was great – I think she just came down to see if it was really true.  Wonderful opportunity to connect with UK based Christians and do some pretty damn great bible study.

But it has rained a lot.  Went to see Mamma Mia! for the second time with my dear sister this evening (Sat) which is amazing and I can’t decide if I prefer Colin or Pierce (spelling?) in spandex grooving out to Waterloo.  I also enjoyed spending time with someone that I know is going to be an integral part in this next step of my journey.

It rained on the way back too.

Turns out, rain is a pretty standard part of life.  And it is indeed lifegiving – we would be screwed without it.  Sometimes, however, you can’t help but wish that there was a little less rain and a little more sparkly sunshineness.  Specially in this hilly region of the West Country.

And so comes the analogy…

Rain, like pain, is a part of life.  The sermon on the last day I was in Geneva was about accepting suffering and still finding joy.  What really stuck out was the idea that we spend so long trying to avoid sufferance that we think it is a bad thing.  But it is so clear that in suffering we come closer to God as we prove our faith (see bible to back up this statement) and for this reason should rejoice in it.  It is through the fire that we are refined.

I am a little bit worried that God is preparing me to suffer.  You know, when you hear a message a few times to the point that it becomes blogworthy?  I watched on Friday night the movie, correction: film, Shadowlands.  Story of C.S. Lewis.  It was really good, I thought.  The final fade out comment that he makes was that the pain is part of the joy; that you need to experience the two together.  Today in Hebrews, having just been absentmindedly sing “O-B-E-Y obey your Heavenly Dad…” (kids song from EBCG), we read the bit - here - that talks about Jesus learning obedience through suffering meaning, not that Jesus was disobedient before then, but that His obedience was not proven until He did it despite what He had to bear.

I must admit, it is a little bit unnerving.  I haven't exactly had to prove my obedience or test my faith. As yet.

But, one of my more fabulous favourite things of nature is the rainbow.  This is because it depicts to me in theory what it means in practice.  When I first visited Geneva, before I had even been offered the job, God showed me a rainbow in the jet and, though I was not a Christian and could not accept the symbolic significance of God’s promises, I could see clearly the idea that through the storm clouds shines a light and gives something beautiful.

[This isn't the same rainbow of that day in June 2007 (the big football is kinda a giveaway) but it is in the same place.]

And that, my friend, is exactly what the promises of God are about.  We have the dark clouds of pain and suffering, the light of God shining through (post tenebras…) and then the glory of His fulfilled promises hangs over our lives. 

So while it has rained a lot, and there are whisperings of suffering when it really does not feel like it and I really do not feel like it, I am glad that in all this Bristol has been going through a season of rainbows.

'Cause what with all the rain I have spotted a few this week... here is one that I snapped from my bedroom window t'other day:

[That's my communal garden out there... check out the washing line! Cute much?]

So yeah.  Have some good solid biblical stuff to finish off with as far as suffering and growth goes.  Check it out if you don't know what I mean: Romans 5:3-5.

New Chapter, New Verse

1st of September was my first day back in Bristol.  I moved here with my car jam packed, safe journey = total blessing, and I was slowly realising that this is it.  The beginning of life in Bristol.  Exactly a year on since when got to Geneva and was thinking 'maybe, just maybe, life will change from this' and now I am seeing the very real and definite truth of that.

10 days before I moved to La Suisse I became the "lucky" and proud owner of a very small, very cute lady-flat in Brizzle.  Totally right for me, an absolutely blessing and I am looking forward to living in it and making my first home there.  Perfect single Christian girl flat :-)  When I lived there for a brief period last year I was like 'It's my new home!' and got really excited even though I knew it was only for ten days.  That as it happens turned out to be a really amazing time in which I became best mates with Ana and was totally blessed by that friendship (yes my dear, I do consider you to be a gift from God!).  It was also the period (and place) in which she met her man Dan with whom she is now old and boring with...!

So yesterday I came back one year on and it was one of those "waiting pays off" moments.  When you realise really clearly that the concept of everything having a time and a place and whatnot is true and that letting things live out like that is the best thing.  But with all the patience I had got the hang of, I clean forgot to get excited about the fact that this time IT IS IT!!  I get to move in and make a home and put up whatever I like on the walls and not worry about keeping it sparse 'cause I am leaving at the end of the year.  I am still only starting to realise it is for now and the waiting is over... and is was SO worth it.

And, like I had a 10 day taster of the flat, I also had a 10 day taster of Ana.  Now I get her all the time!  She was the first visitor I had and her and Dan helped me totally unload my car then dragged me off to their fantastic seaview pad in Portishead, ran me a bath, cooked me dinner and insulted me!  Got to love having friends like that... It was such a perfect first day back and I was overwhelmed with the truth of the fact that life here is GREAT.

And so perspective changes again.  I knew Bristol was going to be good but in Geneva it kinda took a backward step, blurry as it were with Switzerland in the foreground.  Now they have changed places and, just as I loved Ana from afar but didn't get to eat her Thai, the same will be for GVA.  Robyn's late-night-fruity-salad; Caro's not-as-green-as-I-expected-(but still very good!)-guacamole... Brian's mega-beast-of-an-omelette! Not to mention all the other wonderful people and things and food and places that I love and miss.  But the good news is that I can get maple syrup here (thanks mum!) and I can use Skype, so really it don't matter too much.  The blurry background is still very much a part of my bigger picture.

I'll leave you on some funnies and praises:

-When I was driving here I was like "God, I know you answer prayer and if you don't its 'cause you have a good reason for it and a better plan but really, I don't see what you would not want me to have a parking space right by my flat" - there it was directly opposite when I arrived. Allelujah!

-When I was talking to Dan and said it feels like a new chapter he asked me if nowadays I lived my life by chapter and verse... He also air kissed me goodbye this morning and said "I won't kiss you 'cause that's like 3rd base for you people".  Christian jokes, got to love 'em!  On a serious note I am really glad that we can keep our close friendship despite the changes.  I know Ana was worried I'd be boring but I have proved to her that in fact she is more so - being all settled and loved up and all!

-As we walked along the harbour this morning (beautiful btw, I will get some piccies up) a local man asked us - in a really fabulous SW accent - whether the swan with it's leg out was OK or if he should call the RSPB.  Then Dan was like 'no that swan is always like that, he has a dodgy leg but he's alright'. Love that there are locals that care and more so that there is a local swan.  This place is cool.

So.  Being back in the home town feels pretty good.  Gert good in fact.  As Annie, fellow ginger given a new start in life, would say:

I think I'm going to like it here.

The Beginning of The Beginning

The UK is not online.

Seriously, I have finally solved the shoddy connection in my parents house by plugging in with a WIRE. It makes me sick. What kind of backwards place is this?

After a week back in the motherland I am feeling rather alright really. I got a little bit overwhelmed the first night (only a little mind) and was kinda worried as, well, life changed quite a lot when I was away and, for a short while, it seemed like it was all a huge incredible dream.

Backtracking slightly - I lived in Geneva, Switzerland for a year and got turned upside - I say to you respectfully that life without Jesus sucks.

That is an *incredibly* brief overview of something that I will/have gone into more detail about. Geneva, City of Reformation with motto Post Tenebras Lux (After the darkness, the light) was the place where I was reformed. And on Monday night I panicked that I'd blown it out of all proportion.

Which I hadn't.

Still I went to bed worried and thinking that I was glad indeed my sister had come over for my baptism as at least then she would be able to pinch me and prove it was true (I'm talking metaphorically please C).

And I woke up in the morning to a surprise visit from aforementioned sibling. Could not have been better timed. Especially as it was on my 3 months rebirthday! We had a BBQ it was lovely (note that the weather in England SUCKS).

So that was a good start to the new start.

Hmmmm. In other news: been thinking a lot about lukewarmness and how much I don't want to do it and how setting up a proper life (instead of the summer camp of before) is going to be more stretching and much easier to fall into bad ways in. That coupled with the overwhelming task of tidying my bedroom and sorting through all the crap (not lit) I own has made for a quick passing and intense week.

Though I have been to the cinema twice (Hellboy II - really quite good; Mamma Mia, singalong, with the company of 9, 11 & 13 year girls - unbeatable) and am getting quite a lot of sleep and rest in. Which is nice. Plus home-cooking which can't be beat.

Oh and Valerie the car is back. Woohoo! Though I did get in the first time, pull out my driveway and terrify Richard with the question "what side of the road do we drive on here?". Genuine moment of blankness.

That's all. Just an update for those that asked really. I will be insightful in due course (be warned).

My Bird Has Flown The Nest

OK. What's sadder than a cheesy gimmick of a title? A cheesy gimmick of a title that is a reuse of my current Facebook status!

Robyn went back to Canada today. I was going to put back home but I defiantly did not because, well, because I like to think of her first loyalties being in Geneva with me. Playing as my husband instead of being an actual wife to her own. Boy will I miss her. That is one iron sharpening iron friendship and I have never felt more challenged and loved at the same time. Thank you :-D

The whole home thing though. Selfish gene aside I do think it is hard to look to another place and call it home after such a time away. Particularly when what has happened in the interim changes you and your situation completely. England was home once and I know it will be again but right now I am leaving home, ergo I cannot not be going back. Can I? Perhaps Robyn feels like this, I don't know. I sure do. It is just the fact of transition - things change.

But they also continue to change too and from this point onwards will be a new chapter for us both.

Geneva really has been a nest for me. It is a useful analogy and I have observed many lives being changed whilst here. I've watched people enter, be transformed and then get sent out in the world. It is a place for nourishment and growth and also for some a place of stability, as they become a nurturer here - but you only need so many of those and for every parent in a bird family you have a whole host of little chicks that eventually fly away. And that is what Robyn did this morning. And that is what I will do tomorrow night (I write as though it is Saturday given that it is presleep).

But if I were to quote my favourite (OK, I only know one) Christian reggae artist - "fly away home to glory" - maybe I need to rethink this whole 'home' thing. I suppose really, though I leave a home here - an encouraging, supportive and caring life and family that has weaned me onto solid food and given me a whole bunch of love - I am flying away home. Because if home is in glory and the kingdom is in our hearts it doesn't really matter where you settle down.

So really, Robyn did go home today; and I go home tomorrow; and we are both leaving home behind... because like a tortoise we carry home around with us and wherever I stop and draw in my legs is where I will find shelter - because glory is deep down in my heart.

Talking about deep deep, a down down... which is exactly the opposite of the tortoise analogy... but it is late, I have silly amounts of packing and finishing up still to do (if you are reading this before Sunday 7pm UK time, pray now; you don't even have to believe) and don't have the usual fall back plan that my parents will fit it into their car somehow. That said, I am leaving a bunch with Beautiful Brian and coming back to get it stupidly soon.

Am I being melodramatic given how easy Jet travel is these days? But where would the fun be otherwise?!

Night (if I ever get to bed) x

Assorted Talkings - just about my life, not really worth reading if you're not my mum and even then that's pushing it...

I passed the 1,000 mark and didn't even notice. What is going on with me and my blog? I feel like we aren't speaking at the moment...

It has been a busy last few weeks. I went to a wedding yesterday. The pastor graciously agreed to marry them even though they had both been married before - I think it helped that they married each other! One of those rather unique occasions but definitely a LOT of fun. Congratulations Ed and Zoe!

I also went to that wedding in England the other week, as you may recall. 23.5 hours in the country to see and old friend tie the knot. Sorry environment, but I did buy carbon-offsetting! I said to God I wanted it to be worth the effort/expense else I didn't want to go - and you know what, it was! Met/remet some great people and, also, got the chance to wear my Swiss Miss outfit one last time. Yes, I went in costume but it was Chris Lowry's wedding so I think I was allowed... As it happens the whole affair was far less mental than the groom might have implied; but there was one thing they could not control - the location was in a little Kent town named Snodland!

What else? A few friends from England came to visit which was really nice. Did the last touristy stuff, went around GVA, took the boat to cute French town of Yvoire. Lovely stuff. Also meant they took back 60 kg of crap for me. Sadly, though I have already sent back twice as much as I came with, I will be lucky if the last traces fit into 40 kg worth - possibly I should STOP buying things but I saw such a nice top... and skirt... and trousers... for 5 Euros each you can't really say no. Perhaps I am too flippant on an obvious character flaw...?

Life is pretty busy, got a big praise event happening at church the Friday before I leave (if you are in GVA do come, EBCG at 8pm it will be awesome) and what with prepping for that, getting ready (in theory) for leaving the country, doing the last things for the last time and all I am going to pretty much suck at writing. I will still do it, but it will suck.

The last week in Geneva has commenced. No more pub quizzes (not that I went today). No more Mondays. Sadness. I'm not giving it much though though, best way I suppose.

So, see you around for my final observations. I really want to summarise the bits and pieces I have started or hinted at but if I don't get round to it then know that life is pretty good. Busy and crazy and more than a little bit overwhelming at the hugeness of what being a Christian actually means but good nonetheless.

Something funny. A friend of mine went looking for this blog online after it came up in conversation. She sent me a message on Facebook saying that she had tried looking for www.britgotback.blogspot.com but could not find me. Ha ha ha!

That's all folks. Tune in tomorrow for the namesake, something else, or perhaps nothing at all.

F'd in the A

I am so happy today! Despite the rain which is incessant and totally got in the way of my swim in the lake. Yesterday my weather prayer was SO successful that this morning I decided to take my swim suit with me, rather than my umbrella... I ended up walking down the street with a towel over my head!

Still. Nice lunch, met some lovely new people at church 'fya know what I mean...?! ;-) Enjoyed playing the piano in the service; I have been doing that for a few months now, approx every other week and am SO lovin' it. It's really helped me with my ability and confidence and been one of the more blatant blessings of life here.

What other ones are there? Well, getting away from the UK to be honest was a much needed and welcome break. Then there is my pimp place to live (I have a rooftop pool!) and wonderfully slow working week (4-20 hours long during the afternoon and some weekends) which is now totally at an end for the summer. So many fabulous opportunities for trips and activities like skiing, rafting and other fun stuff came along too. The friends, who I can't begin to express how much I love and value, play a MAJOR part: at the YAGs group (I'll expound another time, needless to say a silly Christian acronym but I have heard worse!), church and the ones I met in trains and clubs too - love you guys!

I have also learnt A LOT. God aside, one obvious thing is French, which though not at all perfect is much better. My dear friend who teaches me for free and diligently sees me every week over a lovely soirée has really taught me a lot, both linguistically and spiritually. Others have shown me a bit of Russian too (I can ask where the toilets are, recite poetry and say "I want to have your babies"!) which will come in handy when I adopt my Eastern European baby. Well, it might not. I mean there are lots of languages 'over there' and I probably won't get a Russian child since they actually have population problems and, as Erkki says, "You have to learn Finnish to understand Finnish" which I think is a principle that can be applied to most languages.

I digress.

Sometimes I feel like I am in a stream of consciousness. I ought to read that book that Carolyn told be about (please remind me) but I would struggle 'cause I'd then want to write about it afterwards/as I went along and so the vicious cycle continues. I do feel a bit like Russell Brand when he says his life is a "serious of embarrassing incidents strung together by telling people about those embarrassing incidents" but where you replace the word 'embarrassing' with 'mediocre' and 'telling' with 'boring [people] with'... And perhaps 'people' with 'my parents, my sister and MS twice a day'. Hmmm.

I have a bit of an obsession with remembering things though, hence the stream-like flow. I sometimes need to boycott journaling 'cause else it takes over and I do literally spend my life writing about it. (I mostly got the blog to force me to check spelling and grammar.) This is also exemplified (word choice?) in things such as filling up my phone Inbox and then getting a new one! And I keep all the receipts and labels I ever get; if you saw my room back home you might wonder what all the drawers and boxes are full of. Well, now you know!

But, slowly, that is being dealt with. For a start I no longer print receipts at cash machines - breakthrough! Funny story: when I told Darryl I 'need' to keep receipts he took it very to heart and when he ordered his lunch gave me his food ticket too. Sweet. I was like, Darryl, I don't need yours.... but, well, now I do 'cause it's a keepsake! Ha ha!

So, I just came clean about one of my biggest oddities. I didn't even mean to, I really am good at digressing aren't I?! I suppose I see it as one of the bigger blessing from this year; freedom from shit like that. I don't think I could do it on my own strength and I see little point in trying now I know God is much better. It's like, I could just about cope and be really argggh or I could give up, move on and reach higher heights. Why take 40 years to get across a 40 day desert? He is in general responsible for everything so I may as well let him be in total control and do it really really well. I have 40kg to bring all my stuff back, which is a lovely biblical number, let's see what God can do...!

Oh and meaning of title? Well, that is a legendary phrase that my student used when she had done something really well (if you don't get it don't ask, you don't want to know) and seeing as she got a 6/7 for her maths mark today I am pretty pleased. I was going for the 7 but hey, she wasn't even passing last year and this way I get to not be proud!

So, another blessing from my time abroad. That and the Salvation. Shouldn't forget Salvation... Which by the way has 7 meanings from original Jewish (I think I mean Hebrew right?) or perhaps Greek: saved, protected, liberated, preserved, free from harm, complete, without defect. I like these all.

Shit old life: F'd that in the A. Even better than a good exam result in my humble opinion... Sorry if it got too personal; I think perhaps that green tea does, after all, have caffeine in it (I know you told me sis but I didn't want to believe you and I could not see it on the box). Whoops.

Yet still mostly Whoop!!

The streets are alive with the sound of...

Music! Obviously. Actually not, there are lots of sounds the streets could be alive with; not least football fans (at the moment in Geneva anyway). Then there is screaming, sirens, gun fights, domestics... on the whole I think music may be the only nice sound that the streets could be alive with. Not so much obvious as relieving.

This is the weekend of the Fête de la Musique in Geneva. Woo! What a wonderful day was had in town. Fabulous. And glorious weather for the first time in too long. (Note that today I was not a stupid sun person!) Though it does leave one feeling how much better Geneva would be if the other 51 weekends of the year (wait, 50 'cause l'Escalade rocks too in a cool winter way) had as much activity. It's just so festive to sit out in the balmy evening with music all around and that lovely air of holiday fun. I know, I know; it's like Christmas: only good 'cause it's once a year (well, Christmas does have other merits but my past 22 have been spent in a secular haze so I am yet to know for sure what it is like from the significant angle).

The day started slow. Robyn and Caro are both with me this weekend which, aside from a lot of hormone charged tension (!) means we had the pleasure of rising together, dining on a breakfast of fruit (I was gifted a sackful yesterday by my generous benefactor), putting the washing out to dry and heading down to Parc des Bastion early afternoon to see what it had to offer. Word of advice - don't buy sushi in Paquis then carry it all the way across town in the blazing sun. Let's just say out stomachs are in God's hands (it's a good thing Caro mended the toilet!). I think that raw fish should only be consumed in air conditions restaurants or ice fields. Anything else just feels and tastes wrong.

We took a long time getting round to seeing anything. But when we did it was ace! Met up with a few friends from church, one of whom brought their two adorable children - 8 weeks and at a rock concert; that kid will not be able to help being cool! One thing I'll say is this: the Swiss are definitely dull. I have withheld judgment for a long time on this one but seriously, who doesn't dance to rock'n'roll? Everyone but me apparently! I mean, to the point that people acknowledged with wonder that I was doing it at all... I am literally lost for words on what I think of this phenomenon. It's definitely not natural that is for sure.

It seems to rub off on others too. I went to a reggae concert with Dave and Lindell this eve and I found them sitting on chairs by the stage. Not impressed. Like I said at the time, I should not be showing two black men how to dance. The thing about reggae music, I have realised, is this: they talk incredibly fast and move incredibly slowly. Go figure.

I love music. All different kinds. The problem is, I hear it and it's cool but I don't know who it's by or even what name the style goes by so I have no hope of a) finding it again and making it mine or b) being able to answer that really frustrating question of "What kind of music are you into?" I hate it when people say "anything" 'cause that sounds like they are trying to be non-committal and fit whatever you want to hear. I can't say "everything" 'cause I don't know enough and I definitely don't want to say "The Spice Girls" 'cause, limiting factor aside, them being the last band I was a 'fan' of does not make them my favourite. I'm semi-actively seeking to learn more about music so feel free to tell me what your liking at the moment and I may well go listen and tell you what I think (this is me saying "please help make me cool" by the way).

I have run out of things to say about it all. I saw my friend's daughter's Modern Jazz trio after seeing her play with a Ragga band last night. That's quite cool. There was a walking on the spot brass band covering Natalie Imbruglia and others who we listened too as we hung outside La Clemence (or La Cloche as the locals call it - bit of an insight there) early evening. We saw a pig in a buggy (pic to follow...)!

It was just nice to be out of the house and not to think about things too much, or at least not to think about doing things. I have become very aware these days of why God commanded a day of rest. When the body is tired the mind and the emotions find it very hard to cope and this has a tendency of overshadowing the spirit. Jesus said "For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." in Matthew 11v30 (thank you Robyn for pointing me towards that little gem when I really needed it!) so if you find yourself with too much on your plate then you aren't actually carrying His burden; or if you are you have forgotten to get into the yoke. Resting is one of His constructions to ensure we can cope and, since God by his very nature probably did not need to stop on the 7th day, maybe that was Him creating rest. That one was my brother-in-law's and I liked it.

On that note, I'm going to bed!

Bye Bye Baby (don't make me cry)

Today I was supposed to be meeting a friend at their place early. She lived across town and I was to be there at 8.30 so I could help get her and all her cases to the airport where she would thus depart back to the USofA. Sadness. Also standard Geneva occurrence so we all get pretty hard hearts to it (till it's our turn that is... not thinking about that yet though).

So it was a bummer that my wake up call never happened. I only realised as my cell (nope, I can't/won't do it. It is a mobile; I already called my fringe bangs on Saturday I must stop this before it takes over) rang: it was 8.30 and I was 1 hr minimum from being at her place. Major whoops!

The thing that really peed me off about this whole situation was that I had really wanted to help her out and what I actually managed to do was make her life harder as she had to get down the hill with all her bags (instead of dropping one off the day before) while I rushed over to meet her at the bank so I could help get to the airport at the very least. I hate letting people down and it is rubbish to know that even when I want to be good I am still a fallible human. What hope is there if we can't even rely on ourselves?

I suppose that is what God is for. I mean I was crap and a total let down but still she met someone that gladly helped her to the bus stop (a good 10 minutes down a steep hill in the pouring rain); I got there in record time and met her easily; we got to the airport fine and she still at least got someone to say goodbye to (not to mention she was very forgiving of my faux pas); her flight had been rearranged the day before which was going to make her change in London a LOT easier and as we prayed in the luggage queue for her to not be over-allowance she gets to the desk and they say she had 32 not 23 kgs. Wow! (Some may argue a bummer she did not know sooner I suppose, but that does not help me make my point! She would have struggled to get 64+ kilos on a bus at the other end anyway...).

We then sat in the restaurant and had a drink and a cry and a bit of a pray. We were sitting eyes shut (I know, how cliché) and when we opened them someone had left a pile of napkins on the table for the purposes of tear wiping! How lovely is that?! Awww. People aren't always rubbish now are they?

But I have learnt plenty of other times that they can be (rubbish that is... haven't we all?!) and it is hard to realise that oneself can be too. I suppose it is humbling in a way and reminds us not to be pissed at the people that let us down since we are all just as crappy. The tenuous lesson I would like to take from today (just because I can) is therefore that people can suck, they can be great but that God is always spot on. (Well as evidence thus far proves. All scientists know that it takes infinite successful experiments to prove a theory and only one failed one to disprove it, so we have to agree after "many" trials that something seems consistently reliable, build our whole life upon it and hope that it doesn't all fall apart at the last variable. But then, it's either that or have no theory at all...)

Bye bye Andrea, you will be missed... See you in Nashville!!

Package Deals

A review.

My trip is coming to an end. Indeed, I am in my final destination as I write this and come ce soir I will be back in the Brooker-Bright love nest, complete with lots of dirty washing and a serious need for intensive conditioner... I don't think I have ever been this excited about people speaking French to me; I sure won't miss looking like a total retard - partial suits me so much better.

So what say me about the whole experience? Well, I am not entirely sure if I have managed to capture just how much of a blessing my travels have been, so I suppose I shall just state it in a really boring obvious manner - better that than miss the point entirely and have you thinking I just had a nice lil' hoilday, which frankly would be an utter misjudgment.

For one thing, I have had a fair few experiences where I have not been conventionally happy. That is to say I've cried, been angry, been lost, been lonely, been starkly not lonely(!), missed opportunities and wasted precious time on fruitless pursuits. In all of this I have at times wanted to give up, go home, throw things or get drunk. Some of those things I may well even have done...!

So, what is my point exactly?

God was with me the whole time.

Do you know the 'Carlsberg don't make [insert word here] but if they did they would probably be the best [repeat word here] in the world' adverts? Well, foolishly and more for the sake of the phrase, I was about to say that God doesn't make holidays but if He did they would doubtless be the best holidays the world. Then I realised that God DOES make holidays. He is a travel agent. An agent of all things in fact. He's an interior designer, a consultant physician, a head chef and a traffic warden. There ain't nothing that He can't do and whatever He does do He do's the best.

What a fabulous role model for us all. That and a continual blessing :-)

I've learnt so much about listening to God, then relistening to God (and no doubt in due course will be learning to rerelisten to Him too). I eventually got the realisation that He wants to be my number 1 all the time and have since been delighted as He started to show me how. Even better, as I made mistakes and felt like I was failing at putting Him first, He showed me that it was ok. Wanna hear a cute story as to how?

Well, I gonna tell you anyway.

Remember how I said in Vienna that I gave someone directions having just got off the train? Well, as I wrote about it in my journal (like my blog but with the juicy bits left in and souvenir train tickets stuck inside the front cover) I realised that God was doing more than giving me a friendly face. What happened was this:

She approached me about 30 seconds after I had left the flat for the first time. I was taking a walk and was in a 'bit' of a bad mood - tired from traveling and being a grumpy cow that was frightfully aware of it and totally inept at dealing with it. Just before we met I had been saying to God how I had let Him down/would shortly be doing so. You know, when you feel bad about it but haven't got the drive to stop it happening? I warned Him that I would be no use at all in Vienna but was instead falling off the path for a bit, which was really rubbish given I thought I had been doing so well since my B and had half hoped it was be the end of all that crap! (Note, I am a perfectionist and am well aware that this was not realstic but was clinging onto the dead sinful nature part of things as opposed to the thorn in the flesh warning... but that's a whole other topic.)

Anyway. A sweet Austrian girl at the tram stop asks me for directions to the number 37 (we were at 37a which strangely is in a totally different place). Observe here that everyone it seems speaks two languages - I felt like a reet fool. (And by here I mean anywhere that isn't England). Now, David had recently texted me info for getting into town using the number 37 tram and at the time I had thought "Fool why did you do that? I have to be at your place in an hour so as to let you in 'cause you gave me your keys..." Suddenly, the message had a use and I was able to take Agnes to the stop. We had a nice but pretty mundane conversation and afterwards I was like "Ok God, it gave me sommat to do I 'spose. No major wisdom or messages from You but maybe it was supposed to cheer me up, what with her cute smiley Austrianess". It didn't really work but at least I felt a bit good helping her get there.
Then it hit me (only two days later) that what He was really saying is this:

It doesn't matter if you are being or feeling rubbish, God can still equip and use you to His own special purpose if you let Him.

Now, stands to reason really. I mean, I don't know about you but I am pretty sure that even when I am on 'top form' I am probably not actually as good as Jesus. So, seeing as we always have to be topped up by God in order to be of effect, what difference do our own fluctuating and finite measures of goodness make anyway?

The key is not in how much we have to offer: it is never enough (remember the loaves and fishes...). It is in the offering that He rejoices and uses us. Obvious when you think about it but how cool that He will arrange the universe around us, just to make sure the message gets through?

For those of you avid followers that saw me planning my social life in the comments, I am currently sitting in an über cute farmhouse about an hour outside of Zurich. I didn't make it to the city and will not now given how late it has gotten, but what I did do was SO MUCH better I don't care in the slightest. More to follow but basically God was at work yet again and I slept in a Heidi hayloft last night and petted a cow this afternoon. Could it be more of a Swiss experience?

Geneva I have missed you and can't wait to get back; but be warned, I done gone changed again. Two and a half weeks post baptism, I would say a big fat "Wow!". Who the hell am I anyway?

Laters, x

Coincidence?

I had a really cool experience last weekend, while my friend Gemma was visiting. Rather fabulous in fact and contrary to the question mark in the title I am pretty sure this was not just a Coincidence.

It was on the train returning from the beer festival in Martigny (pronounced Martini to all who went) and we were 5 spread out across two 4 seat booths in the carriage. Hence, when the train stopped at one station and a few more passengers got on we ended up with two attractive and lovely (yes I mean it, not just being English!) ladies sitting in the midst of us. A tall red head and a short and curly brunette. They were lots of fun and we had a good laugh at the expense of the drunken meandering man who was rather keen on self promotion; apparently his appearance is quite a regular experience. I liked them 'cause when I offered cake they accepted - and why wouldn't you? It was spiced loaf. (I later found that one of them had been craving ginger earlier! Coincidence?) Anyway, they got off at Coppet I think and we did not even swap names. Just one of those things: we mused that it was funny you could meet such cool people and never see them again.

The next day Gemma and I went to church, had a drink by the river (that is a whole other experience to be told anon) and then walked to Parc des Bastions to take in the chess and the reforms and what not. Milling about taking photos we hear a shriek and running and a short feisty brunette is making tracks to embrace us, followed by an elegant ginger who was no less forward.

It really was quite remarkable and I can't help smiling now as I remember how I met these two wonderful women, both of whom have since become real people in my life that I text and Facebook (ok, that's not real) and meet up with and everything.

We spent the rest of the afternoon drinking wine and eating biscuits and cashew nuts (more than paying back a squishy piece of cake!) with them and their friends, while we pretended to play chess then actually did play uno. It was lovely and one of the most random experiences I have ever had.

Yet, I don't think it was random, not really. For one, they were both Christians (I'm not saying that if they were not Christians it would have been less cool just that it is something we have ended up sharing together quite a lot and, well also to me it means God is in control.) and one in particular was looking for a church to attend in Geneva. She already came to YAGs last night and they are both coming to EBCG next Sunday (they tried to come last week for the baptism but only found the Lutheran Church - no full immersions there!). We also have loads of other stuff in common and just a right laugh together so it is looking to be some pretty sweet friendships. Now, how often do Strangers On A Train actually end up like that? (I just hope they don't blackmail me into committing murder, else I rather think my point may be lost.)

So that got me thinking. Yesterday off the cuff I called something, which admittedly was less significant, a coincidence just 'cause the word came out naturally. I'm not sure I liked it.

In 'The Screwtape Letters' C.S.Lewis suggests the idea that words can be introduced by Satan into everyday vocabulary to help undermine God and what he stands for. Now, please don't think that what I have to say is not relevant in a secular context (if anything it is equally irrelevant to all!). One can still think that common vocabulary undermines how we view the world without attaching it to spiritual beliefs.

I just worry that by using "Coincidence" as default we are basically belittling every good thing that happens to us as a mere act of chance. When we wonder if something is a direct act of God's involvement (or say fate, the universe, or whatever other higher power you may subscribe to) we always seem to stop and go "Well, it may just be a coincidence". Yet you never hear people say "Don't get carried away with thinking it's a coincidence without considering the possibility of miraculous or purposeful intervention" do you.

It is a word that not only attaches no meaning whatsoever but actually removes the significance an extraordinary event may naturally suggest.

I see nothing wrong with questioning God but sometimes, given that I believe He is capable of all things and on top of that wants to give good gift to His children, perhaps just perhaps I should question the mundane at least as much as the miraculous.

Cleopatra comin' at'cha and other incites

It seems that Cleopatra is feeling at home... I am sitting on the bed with a cat licking my toes and walking over my keys. Awwww. Yet a little arggggh as well! Does she not know I am disturbingly attach to my laptop?

Well. Apparently I am a blogger at heart now. I have spent a most fabulous day-off in Geneva doing all kinds of wonderful things and being rather insightful throughout (or not as it turns out) but the consistent thought I have had is: "This would make a good blog." Oh dear. Particularly since most of the time they were not very good things at all! So, the following entry is a random hotchpotch of everything that half amused or endeared me and I do hope it does not begin to look like a list but given the lateness of the evening I fear that it is inevitable. I hope more that I will eventually find a way to balance real life with cyber stories else it will become a pretty pitiful existence...

[Aside: there is an adorable tabby chasing a wooden mouse around my parquet. If only we were all this easily satisfied.]

Today is (well, it was) the Swiss national holiday marking Ascension. Isn't that cool/weird? I suppose it stems from the days of reformation and Calvin (am I convincing you with this feeble unresearched postulate?) but I liked it 'cause it meant a lie in (OK, everyday is a lie in for me) and I could then hang with my hommies from midi de minuit. It also meant that I got another gift from my generous benefactors - tradition has it that you give lilies of the valley and mine turned up in a cute vase and are stinking out the place in the best possible way.

First thought and a very important one: probiotic yoghurt drinks suck, don't bother. I tried one that Robyn left here and it minged to high kingdom come. Anything dairy and banana flavoured ought to taste like milkshake; needless to say, this one did not. I'd rather be bloated thank you very much.

Having moved the cat in and secured all possible escape routes (I'm not sure why she would want to leap off a first floor balcony but the risk was posed) I then "left her to make herself at home" and headed to my producer's place to do some serious jammin'. En route I walked past a car with a small child in the back seat. Not that unusual. I was however slightly perturbed by the fact that he had decided to victimise me with the worst attack he knew how and was sticking his tongue out in what can only be described as a violent manner. Turn the other cheek aside, this kid needed to learn some manners - it was clear what I had to do and I must admit I took great relish in returning the favour... only to worry for the next few minutes that he had in fact been eating a pink ice lolly (it was a warm day) and I was the meanest passerby in the history of pedestrianisation and had scarred him for life. Luckily I don't think about anything for too long so the guilt quickly passed.

I particularly like jamming with Caro 'cause we make some pretty special harmonies together. She struggles, apparently, with syncopation... and I can't stick to the beat if I try. I'm sure glad her flat mates are francophone 'cause at least I can't understand the comments. I also made a great discovering this afternoon - I can play the guitar. I am not sure how I forgot this fact but sure as hell there were at least two songs that I could join in with. I am rather delighted!

So today was pretty good, and I must say it's ones like this - sharing with beloved friends, music, deep conversation, learning and glorious walks in the sun - that really make you happy to be alive. I am fabulously chilled out, but perhaps a little too much. It turns out I have lost my bank card and with some thought I can honestly say I haven't seen it for a week. How does one go about dealing with issues like this when you don't know who to ring or what to say when you get through? Oh well, I sorted through my small change and 5 cents, approx 2.5p (I remember when it was 2p...), suddenly look a whole lot more appreciable. I really am far too blasé about the whole thing seeing as when I left Caro's I still headed to Starbucks pre-French class. But I did only get a 'grande coffee maison' (anyone else note that un caffee ought to be grand?) so I was almost being frugal. Hmmm. I do hope my card appears miraculously over the next 12 hours as this weekend will be pretty crappy on 8 CHF.

This brings me, in an almost cohesive manner, to my French lesson. Now, I am not being glib when I say that at the moment I genuinely feel like one of the luckiest girls alive; and my French 'class' pose no threat to this. Aside from the fact that it is a beautiful language with wonderful culture (and I am not saying this 'cause Bee might be reading... she is German anyway!) but really and truly I don't think that learning French ever has or will be this fun again. The general form is that I turn up around 7.30/8pm and gossip (these days in a mixture of English and French) about our week and we always have at least one praise point :-). We have a bit of a pray, a bit of food and then manage to throw in a bit of dictation without even really noticing! Today was a particularly fab time - I had to leave early as I had a last minute "I invited you to dinner today but forgot to tell you" from Anna so we squeezed in 2 lessons and a week's worth of news over a table top picnic of sausage, cheese, olives, nuts and red wine! Bee even gave me a gorgeous pair of bronze earrings. This is a far flung experience from the days of Mrs ...? (how have I forgotten your name scary ginger teacher-points for anyone who remember GCSE French) who chased me down for bunking my oral and oversaw the only school detention I ever got (not for bunking said oral but for having my nose pierced in a 'defiant manner').

Then to the eve which, glorious though it was is bringing me way over my self-imposed word count. Anna made great beef borgin-stuff which I did sample though très full and I met Robyn's new lover who is distressingly lovely. Much banter (I think the deep convos can have a separate entry) and wine/dessert/tea later and I was on the bus listening to my iPod and realising that it was time for an update. 'Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree' is a tune but, like many fabulous things, there is a time and a place and I find it hard to delight in the arrival of spring to that wonderful ditty. Why doesn't every season have it's own songs? Maybe you have some ideas as to what the soundtrack to spring ought to be...?

Hmmm, a 'deep' last thought. My successor had a fabulous mishearing today that lead us (her, Robyn and myself) to an almost poignant question. I was describing something/someone as really insightful (it wasn't me!) and she thought I said greedy and spiteful(?!). We then asked ourselves: if you had to choose one or t'other of those things to categorise yourself as, which would honestly be the best fit? Sadly I think today's blog inevitably leaves me looking like a mean glutton...

...though I could always claim I meant inciteful: I am really good at getting other people to do stuff!

Blog-off (and a closet door sprung open)

Hmmm, so this is my first ever blog entry and the problem I am facing is this: I was talking to Darryl today - expert on many things and blogger extraordinaire - about the fact that I was going to start a blog (great advise about not putting anything racy and incriminating on which is ace for my career prospects but does means that the one person who cared enough to read this far just got disinterested) and I made the careless error of saying "I reckon I could find as many words to write as you if not more".
Foolish.
Hence the pressure is on as I make my first and most likely lame attempt at this 'Blog-off'. How I will ever compete with The Yellow Couch I do not know and surely I would do well not to risk trying, but I have a lot of free time of my hands and like the sound of my own voice...!

Why now? You may ask. Having moved to Geneva 8 months ago it would seem logical that I began to log my exciting adventures here so that all the lovelies back home could keep up with the soap opera that is my life. Frankly I was lazy but it's hitting home to me now that I am leaving GVA to return to BRS is a little under 3 months and these days I have friends not just in an other country but in a multitude of them. For those non-faux-Genevoise reading (she says hopefully!) the reason for this is that there seems to be a culture of passing through this beautiful city and onwards; to something no doubt bigger and better but having shared for a moment as part of a living organism, that takes a little of you and gives a little back of something else. A glorifying experience indeed but not without its issues as it threatens to numb one towards a life of loving and losing. Well, I have now decided what this first entry is about: T'seems natural to me to mention in brief (a kind of recap as it were) what it has meant to me to be a part of this organic experience - what I gave, what I took and how ultimately it has changed my life inconceivably loads. I suppose this is me coming out to all my friends back home who haven't heard yet about the changes and discoveries I have made in this land of neutrality, chocolate and reformation.

Someone once said (note the vagueness in this statement) that it is ok to talk to God, it's when he talks back that you should start worrying. Now, I feel it may be a little insane to publish this on the intraweb but I am feeling feisty and proud to say that when I came to Switzerland I met God.

*Taking a moment for everyone from Woodies to shut their mouths; for my mum to wipe her eyes and for the rest to roll theirs, snigger and either say they saw that coming or that they really really didn't, respective to what the last conversation we had was.*

So, I think I will leave that topic there for now, keep you religious nuts coming back for more... Next installment promises a semi-interesting anecdote from my more worldly experiences since I left the cider country. My own brother thinks it is so good it actually isn't true, and he is really cool so he must know (not that I am liar just that it is a good story). I choose it because when Darryl first heard it his reaction was "How does a guy compete with that?" and so I think it has a slightly better chance than some to, well, compete.