Help! I Need Some Money!

(First of all, name that band?)

I'm still on vacation so, believe me, the last thing I want to be thinking about is what I'm doing when I get back to the States but... I need a job. See, I had a job... not one of the soul-fulfilling, joy to devote myself to kinda jobs, but a job that paid halfway decently as well as provided free internet access (and cookies! sometimes.) Unfortunately or not (I haven't decided that yet), I was unable to secure a leave of absense approval in order to get time off work for my 10 week adventure of a lifetime... so I quit.

I mean, I left on good terms, of course, and my boss said she'd hire me back when I returned to "reality" (her words, not mine)... only I'm hoping to find something that either a) touches me on a soul level, something helpful and useful and, hopefully, fun in the meantime and/or b) pays the bills in 20 hours a week or less. So... any suggestions???

I have a work study position (possibly two, I'll be talking to financial aid when I get home), but I need a job that starts asap in August. Your suggestions are much welcomed and appreciated, even if you just tell me what might be a good starting point - how does one go about getting a great job anyway?

I could easily be a McDonalds counter girl or something (um... if they'd hire me back...) but I want a job that means something, only I have an associate's degree and little to no *official* experience in anything beyond food service, fruit, and glorified secretary-ism... I've been a fruit wench, Mexican food proprietess, office go-go-girl, supervisor of shitty shifts, girlie grill cook extraordinaire, ebay scam artist, fast food empress, t-shirt emblazoner, and even, wben the mood strikes me, weaver of hemp creations. now the question is: how do I turn my many wondrous skills into a cash crop???

Really, I'm just musing here... on my list of priorities when I get home is a major job hunt - including my recently revamped resume. Your suggestions are nevertheless welcome. Help?

The U.K. Family Doctor

Today I found out firsthand about the differences between the U.S. medical system and that of the U.K. I've been sick for the past couple days. It's always miserable to be feeling sick but especially so when you are in a (quote, unquote) foreign country on vacation. I thought I was better yesterday but when I woke up this morning and was unable to stop coughing for about half an hour, I realized I was still ill. ick. So when I finally made it downstairs, my aunt suggested that I might need to see a doctor for antibiotics.

She decided to call the doctor to see if I could come in later in the evening or tomorrow, but the doctor told her to bring me in "straightaway" so I could see the locum doctor. So we got dressed and rushed over. My aunt explained that the way the system works is that each locality has a certain doctor. So unlike at home where you can shop around, the doctor you see is based on where you live.

Also, the doctor's visit costs nothing. The last time I saw a doctor at home it was literally a five minute consultation that cost $60. The doctor today listened to me breathing, told me I had a nasty cough, and asked if I would be travelling soon. I told him I had a little over a week left and he prescribed antibiotics. The prescription took about two minutes to fill at the local chemist's and cost me £6.50. A similiar course at home would have easily been $15 - 20, maybe more than that.

Also, I had a great experience, one that probably no one will relate to, except maybe Neha who is also blessed with an unusual name: when the pharmacist called my name when my prescription was ready, he said my name correctly without an ounce of hesitation. At home it's usually "um... (pause)... ms. richardson?" or a mangled version of my first name. Here it's said correctly, the British way which is "Moy-rah" and not my Americanized "More-ah." That was cool.

In other news, I am currently looking at a black and white photograph of my mother sticking out her tongue taken when she was no older than 14. How cool is that? Last night, I saw pictures of my great-great-great-grandparents, including a range of photographs from the mid1950's to pre-1900's. It was neat searching each photograph for signs of family resemblence.

Considering that my only family in America are my mom, dad, sister, and brother, the long linked connection back into the past is a pretty novel concept for me! It's been so wild finding out how much I have in common with people I've heard about all my life and am only meeting now for the first time. Family. What a cool concept. :c)

BINGO, British Style

You probably aren't aware of this... I know I wasn't, but just like the language, British bingo is not the same as the American variety! Who knew??? Last night, my aunt, cousins, and some of my aunt's friends went off to play Bingo. The differences were immediately apparent. First off, rather than the firehalls of yore, Bingo in Britain takes place in pubs. Half a lager anyone? Ah yeah... Next, rather than the sea of blue haired old biddies prevalents in the said firehalls at home, bingo is played by a wide variety of people: one or two biddies, men, women, children, and even raucous British ladies and their American counterpart (that was me!).

At home, a Bingo card looks like this:

You'll note the five columns, each headed by a letter. In the center you have your fabulous free space. You have five columns, five rows, forming a lovely square. How you win is by getting a line straight across, vertical, or diagonally, plus special rounds like postage stamp (the four in the corner) and four corners. If you are so lucky as to win a game, you holler "BINGO!" as loud as you can and duck as troll dolls are tossed your way... not that I've ever won Bingo at home.

This, however, is a British bingo card:

First, you see no letters. No, you don't a row of letters along the top informing you of what game you are playing - you've got to figure it out all by yourself. Next, you have 9 columns and 3 rows of numbers. You have two ways to win: you either get a line straight across or a full house. Each game has two parts and when you win, you don't shout "BINGO!" you call "YES, ERIC!" or "HEREY'ARE!" When you win, rather than shoot you dirty looks, the people cheer, as they did for me three times last night!

It was so awesome, man. See, One of the women we went out with went to the front to introduce me to Paul, the man in charge of the game. As the game started, he made an announcement that I had come all the way from America to have a game of Bingo in their pub. Everyone smiled at me and it was nice.

Then, I won the full house on the first game! This got me £50! Paul said over the loudspeaker that here I was, coming from America to win all their pounds. hehe. Then, I won the line twice for £10 each time. Finally at the end of the game, our table won the snowball, the last game of the evening which won £120 for my aunt who shared it between the six of us (that was the agreement! sounds good to me!)

My grand total winnings were £90 which, according to xe currency converter is the equivalent of $157. Sweet! At the end of the night, our table had won £240, making us the lucky table of the night. It was great. BINGO! er, YES ERIC!

British Vocabulary Lessons, Pt. 2

Chav - this is a term my teenaged cousin was spouting when I first arrived in the U.K. She was telling me about the different types of people (kinda like at high school at home with the preppies, jocks, geeks, freaks, etc.?) and apparently being a chav is the worst of the bunch. The best I can figure is that a chav is someone who dresses in the popular fashions of the moment but doesn't pull off the look very well.

Chav pictures

Hello, Wikipedia! "[Chav] is similar to the United States terms white trash and trailer trash." If you are curious, the wiki article also describes the (stereo)typical chav so you can recognize one should you pass one on the street! (Turns out my neighbor back home is a chav! Who knew?) And finally, this quote from the comments page:

"The key to chavdom is not gold itself; it is low quality, gaudy jewelry. An average chavster desires to be as shiny as possible, and therefore commonly spreads his carets very thinly across as large a surface as his budget can accommodate" Bling, bling, anyone?

British Vocabulary Lessons

After about two months of not blogging it's hard to get back into the groove! I mean, I'm sitting in front of the computer, I've just had the two best months of my entire life, and I feel as though I've got nothing to talk about! But of course that's not true... I've loads on my mind; I guess the problem is trying to narrow it down?

What do I write about first?

Ahhh... since I just read the syllabus for the Linguistics class I'll be taking next semester, how about a brief lesson on the differences between American English and British English? See... contrary to popular belief, we Americans don't actually speak English. We speak a watered down version of the original language, a tad dumbed down language we'll call "American." Upon arrival in "the motherland" (and I can say that safely since I was born here), the difference between the two languages is immediately apparent.

It's hard to even explain the difference: perhaps the best way is to imagine the smartest nine year old kid you can talking - now, triple his or her working vocabulary - you've now got your average Brit. Seriously, the kids here use words the average American adult wouldn't be able to define. My nine year old cousin described the family dog to me as a "wanton hussy" and a "tart." Yes, I realize that reflects on her upbringing as well as her vocabulary (don't worry.. it's only Thetford.) but seriously... it's not just my nine year old cousin. It's EVERYBODY.

It's brilliant because I can feel my vocabulary increasing by the moment. Here are some words I have learned so far (plus some I already knew but were new to Mr. International so might be new to you):

Tart - a trampy girl, sometimes known as a teeny bopper or, if you're feeling mean, a slut. also refers to a type of dessert. the ramifications of these two alternate definitions will not be discussed here. hah.

Ta (pronounced "taah") - thank you

Tata ("taah taah") - see you later, goodbye

Tara ("taah raah") - see you later, goodbye

Pissed - drunk as a skunk, baby

Cheers - a general word of goodwill, can be used as hello, goodbye, etc.

Sod Off - piss off, fcuk off even

Wanker - a derogatory term, you guess the meaning, eh?

Pouf - a gay person, not necessarily derogatory

Faggot - a cigarette. also a meatball. weird.

Saff - silly. strange. funny.

God Save the Queen, Moira's Back

Jolly good, mates, I'm back in the U.K. I'm looking forward to catching up on reading everybody's blog entries for the last couple of weeks. Now that the internet is free and easily available, I should have all the time in the world to blog. Yay!

I'm staying with my uncle Malcolm, aunt Sue, and cousin Georgina at the moment in a town called Stourbridge in the West Midlands. I went to see my Nan last night, whom I haven't seen since I was about 16 years old. I was very sad to say goodbye to my aunt Jean and her family (my dad's sister) but am looking forward to meeting my mom's half of the family, most of whom I haven't met before. Wicked.

It's sweltering hot today. Who knew England could get so darn hot? There isn't much sunshine but there's plenty of heat to make up for it. In the next couple weeks I'll be visiting Southport, a seaside resort, Cadbury's World, land of the delicious chocolate treats, Stratford-upon-Avon, Bath, and, if I'm lucky, Edinburgh, Scotland.

My time in Europe was phenomenal. I'll be writing more about that but right now I am sweating buckets and in need of a cool drink. So I'll do a brief breakdown:

I visited:
York, Canterbury, Dover, Thetford, London, & Stourbridge in England
Empuribrava, Spain
Paris, France
Frankfurt, Munich, Berlin, Dresden, and Cologne, Germany
Bruges, Belgium
Amsterdam, Amstelveen, Zandvoort, Zandaam, & Eindhoven, Netherlands

Of the bunch, my favorite was Munich, hands down.

More to come...

Beligum & the Netherlands

I'm chilling in an internet cafe in Amsterdam, listening to the Nederland media doubletalking the news of the bombings in London. At the time of the bombings in London, I was eating waffles in Belgium after a four hour train ride on the NeverNeverNederland Express.

Amsterdam, in case you are wondering, is truly a land of wonder and joy. A'dam's no Munich and it's been raining all week, but every single rumour that you have heard about Amsterdam is true:

Yes, there really are bored looking call girls chilling in the windows in the red light district, and distracted pimps gathered around chatting on the corners.

Yes, you can walk in a "coffee"shop and purchase a package of the highest grade marijuana available and, better yet, you can sit right there and smoke it. Purple haze anyone? Hey... it's legal here.

We even passed in our travels a most magical store called a Smart Shop, which turns out is very smart indeed because it sells mushrooms of the magickal variety.

As you wander around Amsterdam, you half expect to see an elf or fairy leap out from around the corner, a land where My Little Ponies come to life and walking down the street is like an episode of Frogger, complete with sound effects.

The Dutch language is a cross between spitting sailors and doubletalk, a rolling joking language that never fails to make me giggle when I hear it being spoken. I've tried to learn a few phrases rather unsuccessfully. I think all the weeks of cramming new languages into my skull has finally reached a crescent and what's in there is what stays there, at least until I've had break or something...

Travelling is wicked fun, still, and I'll be sad when my time here is done. Until then... Amsterdam night life awaits!