Tagged

Mel tagged me. I met Mel when she came to interview for a job where I worked. She was wearing a very cute green shirt, was super nice and friendly, and I and my colleague (we were co-conducting the interviews) were embarrassed because we turned up wearing matching outfits that day and we both had British accents so we felt like the “Foreign Twins” double act or something. Then that Sunday Mel turned up at my church, so let’s all be glad she got hired, or it could have been very socially awkward.

These are the rules (lifted verbatim from Mel):
• Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself on your blog, as we all want to know them. (I'm sure you are all DYING to know these, but please read them anyway so I feel like you do.)
• Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs. (If I tag you, just do it and don't complain.)
• Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

And here are my factoids:

1) I collect vintage girls books, from the 20s through the 50s. They are hilarious, but very innocent and fun and full of great mind-moulding lessons on HONOUR and PLAYING THE GAME, and being a GOOD SPORT.
2) Cats like me. I worry slightly that it means I smell like catnip.
3) I can do a pretty solid headstand.
4) For work, I once took part in a “Crazy Cooking Show” (or some title like that) where I played straight woman to the host, who was acting like a mad scientist with the dangerous chemicals in cigarette smoke. This is the kind of stuff I get paid to do. Random bonus fact – my brother called me “Boob Job” for about a week after he saw this program, as I apparently wore a very…er, enhancing top in it.
5) I won a ride in a police car when I was about six, in a colouring contest. And I didn’t even like colouring!
6) I once lost my voice for two months (whisper volume only) after having my tonsils removed. Because of this, I will always love speech therapists.
7) Mel and I once trained for a half marathon together. And I don’t think I’ve ever been in such good shape since. Or up as early.

Bryn, Mel and Jairo, Marie aka Tiffany, Jess, Ninny Rose, Ans, Rachel, I tag thee.

Seattle

Work took me to Seattle, so I took an extra day to visit the amigos. Read all about it here. Or just look at the pictures.

Two Countries Divided By Their Currencies

I try to avoid changing pounds to dollars as much as possible; usually it isn’t necessary, and it always seems to involve a bit of a palaver. And yet, after Christmas, a trip to the bank was needed. I handed over my 20-pound notes, and the young teller looked at them curiously. She got out her picture book of money, and found the page with pounds on them – except it was slightly out of date, so it didn’t have the Adam Smith version. She called over another teller to help, and he also looked through the book. She wasn’t sure how to find the exchange rate.

He said, “these are pounds, right?”

“Right. Pounds sterling. British.”

“So, that’s basically Euros, then.”

“Er, no.”

While they were calculating, he picked up one of the notes. “This is really cool money. Who’s Adam Smith?” I gave the brief bio.

”So, when you were growing up, did you think American money was really cool?”

“Well…it’s all green…”

Another teller joined us to look at the cool money. They exclaimed over the colours and textures, she asked who Adam Smith was, they asked what happens when you wash one of these in your jeans, and eventually, I got my dollars. I felt like my cool money and I had hosted a little tea party together. Next time maybe I’ll bring some HobNobs.

Musings in Schipol

An anachronistic post from December.

There’s nothing more annoying than being in a really interesting foreign city for 4 hours and being stuck in the airport because it’s 5:30 AM on a winter’s morning. But the joy of having a blog is that when you don’t really feel like eating or reading or buying souvenirs, you can always share your boredom with others!

My plane left SL at 6 AM – this meant I needed to be at the airport at 4 AM (I’m sure I could have got away with going later, but I’m obsessive about being at airports on time). I decided (still debating the wisdom of this) to stay up all night, thus obviating my least favourite thing to do – getting up early. My kind friend Arthur called me at 12:30 and talked to me until after 3, with me drifting in and out of consciousness (all nighters were a LOT easier to pull in college). At one point I woke up and she was humming some tune down the phone at me, so as to wake me gently.

The flights were fine, and I like the novelty of flying Royal KLM, with the flight attendants in their retro blue suits, and the unusually handsome men. I arrived in Amsterdam the next morning, bleary eyed and furry-toothed. The airport looks like Gatwick with more Dutch, and rather cool Christmas decorations.



Must admit I was a bit confused to see the signs saying “Holland” because a) I thought it was called the Netherlands now, and b) Even if it was Holland, shouldn’t it say it in Dutch, something like meerskierkegaardschnerken? Sort of feel like Joey in Friends in the episode where he thinks Chandler is teasing him about a Dutch girl being from the Netherlands, and says to the girl something like, “the Netherlands are this made-up magical place where Peter Pan lives.” Note to self – learn something about one’s continent.

Wish I knew “good morning” and “I would like a pastry” in Dutch. Also sort of feel like it is a big scam that they are all pretending to speak Dutch here (sort of like going to the obscure Scottish isles where they are desperately (and worthily) trying to keep the languages alive when only two people speak them, one of them is Prince Charles, and they both speak fluent English anyway. Please don’t tell any Dutch people I said that.

Was quite pleased to see Paul, yummy Euro bakery. Less pleased to find it closed due to being the middle of the night. Only other option was a deli, but even I can’t face a bacon sandwich in the wee hours.



Look, Dutch tulips! Now I just need to see a van gogh and I’ll be ready to leave.



One more thing – I know we Europeans like to make fun of the American “bigger is better” attitude, but let’s not take it to extremes, més frères, i.e. how about making those security gate plastic trays for laptops and coats big enough to hold, say, more than my socks? Love the multiple colours though. Very chic.