The one where I get a new job...

Okay… So I have a job. It starts tomorrow. I’m a nanny. A nanny. What a joke. I haven’t been a nanny since… well. I was an au pair one summer in Tuscany. I was pretty good at it but then I got Salmonella poisoning and ended up getting into a fight with the kids’ father at 3am as we fought for the loo – he had it too. We all had it. Disaster. Plus side? I lost 13lbs. I wonder if I can get Salmonella again? Bonus.

Anyway. I’m a nanny now. This should be interesting. I was a Sunday School teacher for nearly ten years so I know I can do this… Trouble was, I used to get stoned until 5am in the classroom the night before and then teach the kids five hours later with the sweet sweet smell of ganja floating around the classroom. Mellow kids though.

I went to Café Luxxe to do some writing. After all, that’s what I came to LA to do. I ended up just poncing about though. Something I do most days… Must write a script though - am thinking of writing BACKFAT - a 'fictional' tale of my first few months in LA...

THE NEXT DAY:

So. The kid. I’ve been given a brief. Apparently the previous caretaker spoiled the kid rotten. She’s three, nearly four - the kid that is. When she misbehaved, she was allowed to do whatever she wanted just to stop her crying and playing up. She was bribed with sweets. So… when her parents got her back she’d just flip out. She’s been told I’m from Nanny 911. British accent and all. I’m here to sort her out. Eeeek. I have to be tough. Tough tough tough.

Day one: Screams. Not wanted to leave her mother. Glaring. Anger. This is going well. However, I will continue to be tough. She will love me in the end. Right now. She hates me. She wants xxxxxxx. Her previous caretaker. How do I know this? Because she’s screaming for her. SCREAMING. I can’t bare it. How do parents do this? I’m keeping calm though. Tough love. This is going to be really hard. Her mother’s been great, telling me not to worry if she screams and cries: it’s okay. Just let her. However, she’s now screaming. And to think, I really want children. Oh. What’s this? She hates me again? Oh good. This is going well. I’m so thrilled. I have a child who hates me. Someone remind me why I left London again?

Still. Day off tomorrow and I’m off to Disneyland! No one’s sad in Disneyland! It’s “the happiest place in the world”. That’s what I’ve been told anyway.

The next day...

It’s JH’s birthday and we’re off to the wonderful world of Disney. I can’t wait. An early start and we’re meeting at MJB’s house. Splitting up into two cars and heading to Anaheim. The Donald Duck carpark awaits…

I’m asleep for the drive. Yay for big back seats. And awake for Disney… Everyone else had a free pass. They’d used their Disney contacts. Everyone but me. Damn! Doh! I could have too! My new boss works for ABC. God I’m thick.

Someone in the queue offers to sell me one of their tickets for $30 (It’s $59 or so to get in). Quick as a flash, Disney security are on to us. No touting or we’ll get banned from the wonderful world of Disney. Ooops. MJB and JV give me $20 dollars each to split the cost. Phew. I’m in.

Or so we thought. There we were walking up Main Street and… we’ve been stopped by Disney security again. What’s this? MJB’s been pulled aside. Apparently they’ve had a number of complaints about his T-Shirt (we’ve been in the park ten minutes by this stage). He’s told to remove it. The offence? It says: “I fucked the girl in Hanson”. Apparently it’s the “fucked” that’s the problem. Not great. Not great at all. We thought it was funny but MJB thought he’d be for it so he brought a spare. So… after a false start. We’re off in Disney. All the rides. All of them. And no one’s fighting. We’re all getting on despite the long lines for the rides. Well. Apparently it’s usually longer – it was about 45 mins or so but can be HOURS. Note to self… next time do the fast pass route. Much better.- be organised about it. And bring your own food.

Apparently I caused a scandal at one of the food outlets. I wanted to ‘sample’ an onion ring. I didn’t want a whole portion. Just a sample. I said I was from the Uk (true) and wanted to try one (true) but they were having none of it. Apparently, no one’s ever asked that before. Losers. Why not? I’ve survived for weeks on end with no money going on samples. Just go to posh places and look presentable. Free food. Whoop. Not at Disney. Not at the happiest place in the world. A long day was topped off with fireworks. Maybe I should bring the kid here…. Either way. Good research for watching adults interacting with children. Result? Most people are crap. The answer seems to be cram child with sugar and then wonder why they freak out. Doh.

Fell asleep again on the way home.