CELTA

Is it far away,

In the glitter freeze,

Or in our eyes

Every time they leave ..

It took a shitload of effort, but the CELTA course came to an end last Friday. Our adventure into the belly of the English-as-a-foreign-language beast is over. 

The worst part by far now is the wait. 

The hard graft itself is done and dusted, but we won't know if we actually passed until sometime in the next 6 weeks.

It's really quite to sad to think that I'll never have another class with some of the people I've really become quite close to. For some of us at least, it was kind of a bittersweet moment looking up from the bottom of the car park at the little part of Blenheim Terrace that served to teach us so much, and realising how much it'll occasionally be missed.

It's an odd line of thought, especially considering my previous post where I'd expressed my serious doubt about CELTA and my rationale for taking it. It feels bizarre to think that something so huge and overbearing which had dominated my thoughts for months eventually came to be as familiar to me as my own skin.

                                     

I've reasoned that in a time span shorter than a year, I'll be somewhere far away. The only constants I have to look forward to now are the techniques I've been taught and the experience I've gained, albeit in a potentially completely alien environment. 

I won't have the support and feedback of my amazing coursemates, nor will I be able to bitch and moan with them post-lesson practise. If I'd known these kinds of irrational thoughts would begin to dominate my post-CELTA thought process, I'd surely have talked their ears off and hugged them at any given opportunity I had, seeing as the chances of it happening again anytime soon will be preciously rare. 

The next stage, between now and going off somewhere to find a job, is continuing to try and swot up on all the grammar that I'm meant to know.

Buy this book.

I don't care that you're a native speaker of English. Once you start taking it all apart and discovering all the little rules that we know implicitly, the ones that other poor sods have to try and get their head round from scratch, your mind will be well and truly blown.

Its only £8 online. What were you even going to do with that money anyway? Pay your rent? Fix the car? That's crazy talk. Throw it at something that'll make you think.

Buy it.

Failing this, throw the money at me. I could actually do with buying this book. I'll even dance for the money, all sexy like, just to sweeten the deal.