The Megan Story

I feel like that's been the whole focus lately. Of course it has been for me, but I fear that I've made it so for everyone else, too.

The Back Story

Our leading lady, Megan, has made a very difficult decision regarding her future at an English school. Having now decided to leave (and having fabulous refreshed blonde highlights), Megan must do the difficult bit--actually quit her job.

Act 1, Scene 1: Megan Turns in the Letter

Right, so Friday, I printed out my resignation letter and copied it, signed it, and put it on my desk. I had all of 5th period to think about that letter, sitting there, and to get my courage up enough to turn it in. I figured if it waited 'till Monday, fine, but it might be better just to get it over with.

After school, I took it round to my friend Louisa's classroom, then to my buddy Stuart. They both thought it was a well-written letter and encouraged me to get it over with. They're both sorry to see me go, but understand that I am not happy working here.

I chatted with Stuart in his classroom until it was time for me to leave to catch my train. He and one of the technicians in his department, a Santa-lookalike named Graham, have been very good to me since I've been here. Then I gathered my things, slipped the letters in the appropriate trays, and set off for the train station to catch my 4:21 train. To London, to London, to see The Philadelphia Story.

Act 1 Scene 2: Oh, Shit!!

I had been walking for all of 2 minutes when I realized that I had forgotten to print out my hotel reservation information.

"No matter," I thought to myself. "I have my Visa that I used to reserve the room. They won't mind."

So I walked about ten more steps and then thought to myself, "Oh, shit! What's the name of the hotel???"

I had to double back to the school, dash to one of the staff room computers, and jot down the hotel name and address on a piece of paper. By now it was about 4:18. I would never make it.

One of the deputy head teachers, a man named David, saw my distress and asked what time my train was leaving.

"Oh, about 2 minutes."

Bless his heart--he drove me to the station. Even though he'd just checked his tray and read my letter. He didn't comment on that, though.

We dashed out to his car and he cruised to the station. It's only a moment or two from the school, but walking I never would have made it. He pulled into the station car park, I jumped out, falling all over myself in gratitude, and dashed to the platform. Within one minute of leaving David's car, the train pulled up.

Act 1 Scene 3: Travel Hell

Right, so I made the train. It would not have been tragic if I'd missed the 4:21, just a pain in the ass. I would have made the 5:21 and just not gone to the hotel first. But then, I might not have had a place to stay, either!

The train normally goes to Shenfield and I switch there for the London train. Which is why I didn't immediately get off at Wickford, which is two stops before Shenfield. It took me a good ten minutes of sitting there like a total dork to realize that the train was terminating there. Another couple of minutes and I would have been unhappily back on my way to Burnham-on-Crouch.

I finally figured which way the water flows (or the train, in this case) and got off, switched platforms and got on my merry way to London.

Once in London, I took the tube to Edgeware Road, figuring I'd get off there and hail a taxi to find the hotel. No problem, except that it seems between the hours of 5 and 6 in London on a Friday afternoon, finding a taxi that's not already hired is nearly impossible. I finally did, though, and arrived, unscathed, at the hotel Hyde Park Radnor at 6:30, an hour before the curtain was to go up. Right on schedule.

Only to be told that in fact, my room is at the sister hotel up the road and around the corner.

Don't worry, though. I made it just fine.

Act 2 Scene 1 The Good Stuff

I made it to the Old Vic with 15 or 20 minutes to spare, bought a program and found my seat. I was very excited about this play because well, Kevin-oh-my-goodness-Spacey is in it, but also because it stars Jennifer Ehle, who played Lizzie Bennet (and fabulously, I might add) in the 1995 BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice.

They were wonderful! I was very pleased with the story, the set, the costumes, the acting--all of it. I do so love the theatre.

Kevin's character does not come on stage until the end of Act 1. When he did, the audience clapped. I nearly fell out of my chair. The man exudes confidence and sexiness the way I exude a bad mood in a year 9 class. He is magnificent. His character, C.K. Dexter Haven, is funny and lovely and I really enjoyed watching him laugh at all the goings-on.

The play had two intervals (so I felt obliged to have two ice creams in honor of this). When it was finished I did not attempt to get autographs at the stage door. Maybe I'll go see it again and try then, but I figured I was ready to go to bed after a short-long week (short because we had Monday off, long because of, well, everything else).

Act 2 Scene 2 Too Much Time to Think

My hotel room was clean, quiet and comfortable. I watched TV until the wee hours and avoided thinking about what I had done until I finally turned the lights out at 1:30. Then I got to feeling that "Oh my God, what have I done?" feeling of panic. I shed a few tears but quickly reminded myself that I have a lot to look forward to, such as Sunday mornings watching NASCAR, cuddling with my Cuddle Bug (Millie), exploring Seattle, scrapbooking, visiting Sacramento more often than I can from England.

I started to feel a bit better at that point. The next two-and-a-half months will be like this. Up and down, up and down, round and round, topsy-turvey, up and down.

Act 2 Scene 3 Lazy Weekend

Fortunately, the rest of my weekend was as enjoyable as going into London. I did my co-op shopping for the week, relaxed with a great book called "May Contain Nuts" by John O'Farrell (about modern parenting--the mother who is telling the story is a combination of Bridget Jones and Super-Freak-Mom). It was hysterically funny and I read it all on Saturday.

Saturday night I relaxed with Top Gun on the DVD.

Sunday I had a fabulously late lie-in with a book, then got up to eat, drink and be lazy. Well, I did clean my room. And cook potato-leek soup. And clean a bunch of veggies for my lunch salads this week.

All in all, my perfect kind of weekend.

Act 3, Scene 1 The Moment of Truth

We had a staff briefing this morning, as we always do on a Monday, and I stood there the whole time thinking, "Oh my God, everyone in this room knows I'm leaving and they're all looking at me." Which, of course, is not true. And I'm sure I'm imagining the evil eye I feel my faculty leader giving me ever since last Tuesday. She doesn't know I'm leaving yet, but she's been a bit...cool...towards me since I let her know how I feel about the fact that she and the deputy head "encouraged" me to keep up with my lost cause of GCSE Music.

Anyway, I was afraid that the head would come up to me and start with his, "Oh, we're sorry to lose you, what can we do to keep you?" and expect me to have ready answers at 8:45 on a Monday morning when I got only a few hours of sleep (my own fault--I refused to put the book down). I knew that the only answers that would come out of me would be, "Er, well, um. Yeah. Tough decision. Hard. But nothing short of a kid transplant and oh, a new senior management team that's actually organized will keep me here... ."

I just didn't want to go there this morning.

One of the deputy head teachers, Gary, approached me after the briefing. I thought to myself, "Oh, here we go. Bite your tongue, Motor Mouth." All he said, however, was, "Thank you for the letter. We're sorry to see you go, but I understand it's the best thing for you." He was very nice about it, and discreet, not booming it out across the staff room for everyone to hear. No why's, how's and how come's. Just a simple acknowledgement of my letter. I, in turn, told him, "It was very difficult to make the decision, but in the end I felt it best that I go back to the U.S., and also I felt it best to let you know as soon as possible." He appreciated that.

Act 3 Scene 2 Making Plans

It helps to know that I am going to make the best of my time left in England. I have grand plans to see Windsor Castle this weekend, and to spend a day of my half-term break in Brighton. I actually talked to my friend Louisa this morning and she is up for going with me. I think my friend Donna and her fiancee will come, and maybe we can get a nice group of people. There's a wonderful sea center there that only keeps animals that can flourish in captivity (no dolphins or whales doing tricks), and it looks fascinating. Also, Brighton has its famous pier, a lovely beach, and lots to do. I think it will be a fun trip.

I'm also looking into doing some other day trips, alone and with friends.

Act 3, Scene 3 Making Plans Beyond July

I have some research to do about jobs, places to live, etc. It will come together. And I've been thinking about my return to England. I told Kathy last night, "I will come back. I said I would 6 years ago and I did it. By God, I'll do it again." She simply replied, "I have no doubt you will."

And so I will.

After the Curtain Call

Yesterday was May 8 2005. Six years ago to the day, I boarded a plane at Heathrow and left London. I remember being sad to go, and unsure of myself once I got back to California. I remember thinking to myself, "I'll be back!" I knew, if nothing else, I would come back to England. Since then, every time May 8 has rolled around, I've thought, "Wow, it's been a year since I left England..." "Wow, it's been two years since I've left England..." This year, "Wow, it's been six years since I've left England, and, oh, wait, I'm here!" Happy feeling.



Right. Self-centered and panic-stricken probably best describe the Megan of the last few months. So, let me just acknowledge that I'm going to make an effort to be better about writing, calling, emailing, sending smoke signals, etc.

Oh, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SUMMER!!!! You are officially in your late 20s. And I'm not far behind you.

Cheers,

Meg