Going jogging in the suburbs has never been a good idea. One is guaranteed to bump into a member of the Jewish community. Bank holiday Monday inspired me to go and do some exercise, for two key reasons- one, the realisation that I'd eaten far far too much greasy take out food (you see, this is the real reason why nice girls don't hang out on their own with boykind. You get fat) over the long weekend, and also my mother was going to be home all day. I can't smoke with her around. And I needed to indulge my dirty filthy nicotine addiction in order to appease my hangover.

So I decided to go jogging.

Ten minutes in I was ready to collapse in an undignified heap, but settled for a cigarette.

And then I ran into a Jewish mother.

"I know," I heard her whisper to her son as I said my goodbyes and fled, "it's since she went to that boarding school."

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I didn't flee quickly enough; and allowed myself to be roped into an impromptu teaching session at the local Arts Foundation this morning.

Romeo and Juliet.

To fourteen/ fifteen year olds.

But despite my doubts, it was brilliant. At the start they were all such cynics, especially the boys ("they could never be in love after that short a time, Romeo only wants one thing" etc etc) but at the end of the unit we had a vote.
'Were they in love?' (yes, I know it's a bit facile) and almost all of them went for yes, or, better, said it was irrelevant because the play was about youth, not love.

It restored my faith in humanity.