That title sounds like a lame quote from 'Karate Kid' but it accurately describes my experience going back to Uni this last month. At the ripe ole age of 26, I decided to go back to college to do a night course in journalism. So, every monday and wednesday night I cart my folders into town and make my embarrassed excuses for being late. I usually wind up sitting beside the weird loser with oily skin at the back. I try to avoid looking at him in case I stare too much at his zits and he inaccurately thinks I'm looking at him because I fancy him.

Sitting in the dim, airless lecture room somehow doesn't add to the joy of the learning experience. Nevertheless, I'm enthralled. I love my classes. I hang onto my lecturer's every word about page lay out and sources and what to do if I'm ever interviewing a politician. In fact, I've discovered that I have not changed at all since I was at school. Teacher's pet is not the word. I just love kissing arse and being a total geek- laughing at the teacher's every joke and obediently copying everything down. Jesus, I must've been an annoying kid. Maybe I don't even like journalism, maybe I just like being 'a student'.

So the teacher became the teacher's pet again. My patience was rewarded tonight though. The lecturer told me my work was brilliant  and I turned a not very fetching shade of pink. Tomorrow, I'll go into my classroom and will be greeted by the dawn chorus of 'Miss....why the fuck do we have to learn poetry? It's so shit!

I watched Newsnight tonight on BBC. On it, were two men from differing sides of the environmental debacle. One was arguing that people should have the freedom to fly anywhere as often as they like. The other was arguing that we should all live ethically and try and limit our air travel. This is very relevant in the light of the recent Heathrow protest.

The environmental campaigner argued that it is a matter of personal responsibility to be ethical. The other man's argument couldn't even be called an argument. He simply denied that each person has responsibility and blamed the government for not doing enough. He vaguely talked about looking for alternative energy sources. This debate made me angry. Why do people feel the right to behave so selfishly? There is no point in making excuses. Each one of us has a part to play in trying to limit global warming. In a broader sense, this man is symbolic of how we came to be in this mess in the first place. Selfish individuals with no sense of community or caring who stand up for 'individual rights'. In my mind, that is the same as someone saying they have the right to carry a gun. The rights of the individual do not override the rights of the community.

I foresee a day when airtravel will have to be rationed. Personally, I think that day should be now. I fail to see why business women and men who fly weekly to London or New York or elsewhere can't work somewhere closer or else work in a way which leaves a smaller carbon footprint. Most families can't afford to go away that much anyway but people who fly somewhere on a weekly basis have to ask themselves what this may be doing to the atmosphere.

We need rules and regulations relating to the environment. Otherwise, our future will be hijacked by ignorant, selfish fatcats.

I was up at the crack of dawn this morning (well, eight, but it is school holidays), raring to go and ready for my interview. My job as English teacher is safe but my Head Master encourages us young teachers to look around and see if we can get anything  better. It is slightly last minute, given that school starts in two weeks, but nevertheless, I have a few interviews lined up this week.

Eagerly, I put on my obligatory 'sensible' black trousers and black high heels and scraped my hair back.  I felt confident but not cocky. My previous interview had been a real trial, as the interviewer kept on asking me the same question, just phrased in different ways 'til even my legendary patience started to crack. I was sure that today would be different.

Anyone who knows Dublin, knows how patchy the 48A bus service is. I caught one on time and got my favourite spot on the top deck. For some reason, the top deck was awash with about three inches of water which kept swirling around my feet, thus sullying my good interview shoes. Typical. The whole bus had the look of a gutter by a burst watermain, but as far as I know, buses don't have water pipes?!?!

I made it to the office on time and was ushered in by a frazzled looking secretary. After waiting for twenty minutes, the boss of the operation took me into the interview room. He looks like an oily salesman, I thought, while smiling sweetly at him. I answered his questions fluidly and we chatted about behaviour management. This is in the bag, I thought smugly. 'Any questions, Amy?' he grinned. I mooted the point of wages.  He told me the expected salary. My jaw must have fallen open. My eyes definitely glazed over in shock.

The wage pa he was suggesting might barely cover the cost of a second hand volkswagen. Barely. Put it another way, if you had to pay rent out of that wage, you would barely be able to feed yourself, never mind do anything else, and that would be shopping at asda or dunnes. I'm certainly not a millionaire as it is, but last time I checked, Ireland isn't a third world country. I'd make more money sewing trainers for nike.

My facial expression spoke volumes. He icily promised that he would 'be in touch'.

'In your dreams, fella' I silently answered.

 On the way home, I wondered if I was being a diva about the whole money issue. I don't think so. What amuses me the most is how some employers attempt to get skilled and experienced workers at 'bargain basement' prices. The thing is: you get what you pay for. It is the teenagers who will suffer when confronted with some half-ass graduate who doesn't know what they're doing. The cost of living keeps rising and the average wage stays eerily low. No wonder the rich stay rich.

Back to the drawing board. At least I have an excuse to get a new pair of interview shoes...