I really do. I have the itch... or the bug that causes the itch? What the hek is the phrase anyway? I don't know... but I have whatever it is and I want to go on a trip.
So, why don't I?
Well, there are so many variables involved in the planning for and then carrying out some form of travel. The main restriction is my job. I do love working at Travel Manitoba, however I hate that I don't work FOR Travel Manitoba. Temping. It's the shits. You never know when a job is going to end, and you can't make plans because the company that you work for could change their minds at any given point and want you longer. If you say no, a) You don't get paid b) You screw them over c) You screw the temp agency over because they have to put a new temp there and d) You kinda make yourself look bad. It's an all around bad situation that I, personally, would like to avoid.
BUTTTTT.... I want to get out of Winnipeg!
When I returned home from Australia, where I was for 6 months, I was home a meer 5 days before starting a full-time job. Since then I have been working full-time, having had no days off to just chill. Well that's noy entirely true, I did have 3 days off for Gillian&Damien's wedding, however I would be lying if I said that it was relaxing even in the slightest way. So, as lame as it sounds, I want a break. I want to not work for at least a week, do things that I feel like doing, when I feel like doing them and it would be preferable if this all took place outside the city limits of my hometown.
Well, would you look at me, being a little whiner, "Wahwahwah, I can't handle working a full-time job like a normal human being, I deserve a holiday!"
... I tell it how it is. Whiner or not... I want out... and pronto!
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
Ya just can't win.
Riding a bicycle. Who would have thought that it would be so stressful and emotionally tiresome. Not I.
***Keep in mind I'm a newbie to the bike scene. I don't have spandex and I don't even wear a helmet. Nope, I'm just a girl wearing a dress riding her one-speed around the 'hood. I probably have more fears and insecurities than the speed-racing pro's who can change their gears.
Typically while riding my bike I veer from riding on the road to on the sidewalk quite frequently. The choice is dependant on the nature of the road - whether it is brimming with vehicles or deserted therefore free for my domination. Due to the fact that I am both a sidewalk and road rider, I get to experience the reactions to bikers from both motorists - while on the road, and pedestrians - while on the sidewalk, and just to add something else... from motorists while on the sidewalk. It's all very interesting.
My bicycle: Metallic blue, granny style, coaster brakes, fenders, horn on the left handle-bar.
Me: Happy, female, leisurely and pleasant looking (A.K.A... I don't look like I'll ever smash your face in if you look at me wrong... in fact... I probably give off the impression that if you look at me wrong I might be scared... and bike faster)
Riding on the sidewalk = My own reception of nothing but love from my pedestrian friends. Honestly. Especially from elderly ladies. In most cases, when riding past an older woman, they stop their sidewalk shuffling and give their approving smile at me. I like it. Within other age demographics of the female gender I either get smiles or blank stares and from the male gender - well - approval, to say the least. If riding on the sidewalk wasn't illegal I wouldn't even consider riding on the road. The problem is that it is illegal and I feel a little bit scared of getting a ticket as my dear brother-in-law has been the not-so-proud recipient of. I am getting less scared of the cops though because, as I live in Osborne, I pass them frequently on my commutes around the area and I have gotten much approval from them as well. Who knows when that will be cut short though... Even though I receive a lot of love from pedestrians on the sidewalk, along with the fact that it's illegal, it's impossible to ride on busy sidewalks of streets like Corydon, Osborne, The Forks, and other highly populated areas of the like.
Road riding = Honks and yells from fellow friendly Manitobans. I'm not even talking about the "you're hot" kind of yells and honks. No siree, that is definitely not the case. In my experience, vehicle drivers don't have the fondest sentiments towards bike riders on their terrain. The thing is, I don't even blame them. Since the age of 16 I too have been unimpressed with sharing the road with bikers. Not because I hate them and I think they shouldn't be on the road, but because it really scares me. Who knows when they'll move a little bit too far to their left and I'll have to swerve not to hit them, or if they hit a pot-hole and fall and then I'll hit them, or even if I can't get into the other lane and have to drive 15km/hour behind them until it opens up to get around the congestion commencer. It's a terrible situation and I don't blame motorists for their negative emotion towards bikers and I, as a biker, feel the same, on busy routes I'm scared of cars! The problem is that, in order to be an upstanding citizen as a biker, I need to ride on the road. Recently my brother-in-law was riding home after hanging out at my parents house. It was late at night so there weren't many cars on the road, but as one car drove by the driver yelled Get on the sidewalk!!". Real cool buddy, real cool. Luckily Nils was feeling ballsy and called him out on it in a parking lot with threat of u-locking his car. Ha.
Here's where it gets tricky. When I'm biking on the sidewalk I get yells and honks from drivers as well! To be completely ill-written and un-classy - It pisses the hell out of me. I'm off the road kids, I'm not taking up your precious pavement and yet you still want to honk at me and tell me to "Get on the road!!" when I get in your way. This is a situation that happens to me on a regular basis. I'm at an intersection and when the light turns green (and since I'm at a sidewalk, the little man lights up) I go ahead and start crossing the street, but some jerk in a car wants to turn left onto the road I'm crossing so they go and then have to stop for me which brings out their spirited energy in the form of a firm press to the center of their wheel an open mouth out the window yelling some form of negativity. What they don't realize is that their situation would have been identical had I been riding on the road. I would still be crossing, just about a metre and a half to my left meaning they would go and then have to stop even shorter for me. I don't understand.
So there you have it. The on-going drama of being an amateur biker in the city of Winnipeg; the constant dilemma of choice between road and sidewalk. Assured safety vs. Fear, Illegal vs. Legal, Please the pedestrians vs. Please the motorists. Proposed Solution? I have none.
So what IS a girl to do? If you know... let me know.
***Keep in mind I'm a newbie to the bike scene. I don't have spandex and I don't even wear a helmet. Nope, I'm just a girl wearing a dress riding her one-speed around the 'hood. I probably have more fears and insecurities than the speed-racing pro's who can change their gears.
Typically while riding my bike I veer from riding on the road to on the sidewalk quite frequently. The choice is dependant on the nature of the road - whether it is brimming with vehicles or deserted therefore free for my domination. Due to the fact that I am both a sidewalk and road rider, I get to experience the reactions to bikers from both motorists - while on the road, and pedestrians - while on the sidewalk, and just to add something else... from motorists while on the sidewalk. It's all very interesting.
My bicycle: Metallic blue, granny style, coaster brakes, fenders, horn on the left handle-bar.
Me: Happy, female, leisurely and pleasant looking (A.K.A... I don't look like I'll ever smash your face in if you look at me wrong... in fact... I probably give off the impression that if you look at me wrong I might be scared... and bike faster)
Riding on the sidewalk = My own reception of nothing but love from my pedestrian friends. Honestly. Especially from elderly ladies. In most cases, when riding past an older woman, they stop their sidewalk shuffling and give their approving smile at me. I like it. Within other age demographics of the female gender I either get smiles or blank stares and from the male gender - well - approval, to say the least. If riding on the sidewalk wasn't illegal I wouldn't even consider riding on the road. The problem is that it is illegal and I feel a little bit scared of getting a ticket as my dear brother-in-law has been the not-so-proud recipient of. I am getting less scared of the cops though because, as I live in Osborne, I pass them frequently on my commutes around the area and I have gotten much approval from them as well. Who knows when that will be cut short though... Even though I receive a lot of love from pedestrians on the sidewalk, along with the fact that it's illegal, it's impossible to ride on busy sidewalks of streets like Corydon, Osborne, The Forks, and other highly populated areas of the like.
Road riding = Honks and yells from fellow friendly Manitobans. I'm not even talking about the "you're hot" kind of yells and honks. No siree, that is definitely not the case. In my experience, vehicle drivers don't have the fondest sentiments towards bike riders on their terrain. The thing is, I don't even blame them. Since the age of 16 I too have been unimpressed with sharing the road with bikers. Not because I hate them and I think they shouldn't be on the road, but because it really scares me. Who knows when they'll move a little bit too far to their left and I'll have to swerve not to hit them, or if they hit a pot-hole and fall and then I'll hit them, or even if I can't get into the other lane and have to drive 15km/hour behind them until it opens up to get around the congestion commencer. It's a terrible situation and I don't blame motorists for their negative emotion towards bikers and I, as a biker, feel the same, on busy routes I'm scared of cars! The problem is that, in order to be an upstanding citizen as a biker, I need to ride on the road. Recently my brother-in-law was riding home after hanging out at my parents house. It was late at night so there weren't many cars on the road, but as one car drove by the driver yelled Get on the sidewalk!!". Real cool buddy, real cool. Luckily Nils was feeling ballsy and called him out on it in a parking lot with threat of u-locking his car. Ha.
Here's where it gets tricky. When I'm biking on the sidewalk I get yells and honks from drivers as well! To be completely ill-written and un-classy - It pisses the hell out of me. I'm off the road kids, I'm not taking up your precious pavement and yet you still want to honk at me and tell me to "Get on the road!!" when I get in your way. This is a situation that happens to me on a regular basis. I'm at an intersection and when the light turns green (and since I'm at a sidewalk, the little man lights up) I go ahead and start crossing the street, but some jerk in a car wants to turn left onto the road I'm crossing so they go and then have to stop for me which brings out their spirited energy in the form of a firm press to the center of their wheel an open mouth out the window yelling some form of negativity. What they don't realize is that their situation would have been identical had I been riding on the road. I would still be crossing, just about a metre and a half to my left meaning they would go and then have to stop even shorter for me. I don't understand.
So there you have it. The on-going drama of being an amateur biker in the city of Winnipeg; the constant dilemma of choice between road and sidewalk. Assured safety vs. Fear, Illegal vs. Legal, Please the pedestrians vs. Please the motorists. Proposed Solution? I have none.
So what IS a girl to do? If you know... let me know.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Severe Thunderstorm
Last night there was a downpour. Did I take advantage of the unfortunate weather to get out of working? Of course I did.
At 3pm one of my bosses asked... no, more like begged me to work from 6-9pm. This job was, on bike, a 40 minute trek (I know because I did it on Monday). She had asked me earlier in the morning and I said no due to the fact that I didn't really want to take my bike there in the scorching heat once again, but later in the day as she re-iterated her desperation for me to take this job, I reconsidered and decided to help the woman out. This was only under the condition that if I couldn't find a way home, she would come pick me up. What I didn't know was that there was a "severe thunderstorm warning" for the late afternoon and evening ahead of me.
Around 4pm the clouds started brewing overhead and my level of positivity towards this job, although it didn't start at a very high level, was decreasing at a linear speed. I got off work at 4:30, speed-raced home, looked out the window and made an executive decision that I should not take my bike because I would die. Yes, death would most definitely ensue following the trek, via bicycle in, the severe thunderstorm... that hadn't started yet. I headed up to the 6th floor and put my sister's mac to use while I navigo'd the way to Berry street. The bus times didn't really line up for the way home so I called my boss and told her straight up I would for sure need a ride home because the bus times didn't suit the job and I didn't want to wait in the creepy neighborhood for half an hour afterwards to go home... not to mention it might be storming. She said that was fine, gave me her cell number and the conversation was done.
Seconds later it started. The rain started pelting and the golden boy, the Forks bridge, AND the revolving restaurant disappeared in front of my eyes while the tree in front of my building fell over. Well, it didn't really... but like... My sister and I, at the time, decided that it was 100% going to fall over... so at the time... it was basically done. Our jaws literally dropped and like little children raced from window to window yelling out the bi-second updates on the haps through the different views of her apartment. I won't lie, it was quite entertaining and we even had a stationary bag of grapes at one of the windows for mid-entertainment snacking. Life was good... except for the fact that I was supposed to get out from under my shelter and brave the storm to get to a job that I, quite honestly, did not want to do.
At this point, my sister took her stance as the older, more mature, decision maker extroardinaire and told me firmly that I was not leaving the building because a tree might fall on me. At that moment I got a little bit scared for my roomate and my boyfriend that were both apparently outside so I texted them telling them to be safe and... not get hit by trees. So, I picked up the phone, a little bit apprehensive to call and cancel work due to the weather... but I mean... Ya do what ya gotta do right? After a couple of tries to my boss, and my sister standing beside me forcing me to keep trying, I finally got ahold of her and nervously told her the situation of the weather and walking to the bus stops and blahblahblah... "I'm scared to go outside". Then I waited for her response and MUCH to my delight her response was "Oh my god don't even worry about going at all, I'm on the 24th floor of the TD building and I'm so scared of the storm right now." Seriously surprised by this I decided to run with it, "Yeah... Me too!!... and the tree outside my building is about to fall over!"
And that was it. Deal = Sealed. I was totally released from my commitment to a lame semi-tele-marketing-esque job that I was really not looking forward to. Much more ooh-ing and ahh-ing continued while my sister and I stood by the windows, watched the storm, ate grapes, and laughed about how much we said "severe thunderstorm" and how I used the tree almost falling over as a device to get out of work... even though it didn't end up falling over at all. It was a good time. I love my sister a really lot. Like a REALLY lot... Bff. Right Lise? Bff right?
Anyways... thus concludes the story of the severe thunderstorm.
Over and out.
At 3pm one of my bosses asked... no, more like begged me to work from 6-9pm. This job was, on bike, a 40 minute trek (I know because I did it on Monday). She had asked me earlier in the morning and I said no due to the fact that I didn't really want to take my bike there in the scorching heat once again, but later in the day as she re-iterated her desperation for me to take this job, I reconsidered and decided to help the woman out. This was only under the condition that if I couldn't find a way home, she would come pick me up. What I didn't know was that there was a "severe thunderstorm warning" for the late afternoon and evening ahead of me.
Around 4pm the clouds started brewing overhead and my level of positivity towards this job, although it didn't start at a very high level, was decreasing at a linear speed. I got off work at 4:30, speed-raced home, looked out the window and made an executive decision that I should not take my bike because I would die. Yes, death would most definitely ensue following the trek, via bicycle in, the severe thunderstorm... that hadn't started yet. I headed up to the 6th floor and put my sister's mac to use while I navigo'd the way to Berry street. The bus times didn't really line up for the way home so I called my boss and told her straight up I would for sure need a ride home because the bus times didn't suit the job and I didn't want to wait in the creepy neighborhood for half an hour afterwards to go home... not to mention it might be storming. She said that was fine, gave me her cell number and the conversation was done.
Seconds later it started. The rain started pelting and the golden boy, the Forks bridge, AND the revolving restaurant disappeared in front of my eyes while the tree in front of my building fell over. Well, it didn't really... but like... My sister and I, at the time, decided that it was 100% going to fall over... so at the time... it was basically done. Our jaws literally dropped and like little children raced from window to window yelling out the bi-second updates on the haps through the different views of her apartment. I won't lie, it was quite entertaining and we even had a stationary bag of grapes at one of the windows for mid-entertainment snacking. Life was good... except for the fact that I was supposed to get out from under my shelter and brave the storm to get to a job that I, quite honestly, did not want to do.
At this point, my sister took her stance as the older, more mature, decision maker extroardinaire and told me firmly that I was not leaving the building because a tree might fall on me. At that moment I got a little bit scared for my roomate and my boyfriend that were both apparently outside so I texted them telling them to be safe and... not get hit by trees. So, I picked up the phone, a little bit apprehensive to call and cancel work due to the weather... but I mean... Ya do what ya gotta do right? After a couple of tries to my boss, and my sister standing beside me forcing me to keep trying, I finally got ahold of her and nervously told her the situation of the weather and walking to the bus stops and blahblahblah... "I'm scared to go outside". Then I waited for her response and MUCH to my delight her response was "Oh my god don't even worry about going at all, I'm on the 24th floor of the TD building and I'm so scared of the storm right now." Seriously surprised by this I decided to run with it, "Yeah... Me too!!... and the tree outside my building is about to fall over!"
And that was it. Deal = Sealed. I was totally released from my commitment to a lame semi-tele-marketing-esque job that I was really not looking forward to. Much more ooh-ing and ahh-ing continued while my sister and I stood by the windows, watched the storm, ate grapes, and laughed about how much we said "severe thunderstorm" and how I used the tree almost falling over as a device to get out of work... even though it didn't end up falling over at all. It was a good time. I love my sister a really lot. Like a REALLY lot... Bff. Right Lise? Bff right?
Anyways... thus concludes the story of the severe thunderstorm.
Over and out.
Monday, July 23, 2007
It's been a while...
Wowee. I don't even know where to start. Since my last blog my life has changed enormously... including the fact that I no longer own a computer (Technically I've NEVER owned a computer, however, due to the fact that I was a dependant of my parents what was theirs, was mine... that is no longer the case) which means my life is also 86 blogging. Anyways... here is the breaking news of my life as of late:
- General Scrap = Done, finished, FINITO (Thanks be to Jesus).
- I am now employed at Travel Manitoba and am loving my life there.
- I moved out of my parents' house! Hooray!
- ... And am now the proud lease-holder... Tenant... Apartmentee... On River with a LOVELY lady... Who I love... named Brit.
- I am the proud owner of a one speed, metallic blue bicycle with a huge horn on on the left handle-bar. Cute.
- I have a fair sized crush on a nice boy. Nice is the key word... They are hard to find. He buys me flowers.
- As of right now I'm in diar need of another job. Boo.
I think that about covers it. Unfortunately enough I have no horror stories to report at my new(ish) job. Although quite patronizing during the events themselves, they did make for great blogs. Hmpf. (That's my neutral noise... not boo, nor horray... is there an OFFICIAL sound effect for middle ground emotion?)
Well until next time...
A dieu.
- General Scrap = Done, finished, FINITO (Thanks be to Jesus).
- I am now employed at Travel Manitoba and am loving my life there.
- I moved out of my parents' house! Hooray!
- ... And am now the proud lease-holder... Tenant... Apartmentee... On River with a LOVELY lady... Who I love... named Brit.
- I am the proud owner of a one speed, metallic blue bicycle with a huge horn on on the left handle-bar. Cute.
- I have a fair sized crush on a nice boy. Nice is the key word... They are hard to find. He buys me flowers.
- As of right now I'm in diar need of another job. Boo.
I think that about covers it. Unfortunately enough I have no horror stories to report at my new(ish) job. Although quite patronizing during the events themselves, they did make for great blogs. Hmpf. (That's my neutral noise... not boo, nor horray... is there an OFFICIAL sound effect for middle ground emotion?)
Well until next time...
A dieu.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Mequitoz.
I am completely unimpressed at the over abundance of mosquitoes in the land that is not flowing with milk and honey; Winnipeg.
This morning on the bus, a ride which is typically quite productive as I sleep for a good twenty minutes, I was more than annoyed at the hoards of mosquitoes swarming around my body. There was not a chance of me catching a wink on this bus ride. Being really sleepy, I still attempted to sleep as I was kept up last night by two pests of a different species; boys. Obviously I'm kidding, I love you boys I'm glad you kept me up :)
Anyways, it was impossible thanks to the un-ceasing attacks to my flesh by some ugly little insects. There were two worst parts to this scenario:
1. The locations on my body at which these damn insects chose to infest. During my bus ride this morning, I was the un-grateful recipient of two bites on my left foot, one bite on my right foot, one on my right index finger and one on my left cheek. Thanks mosquitoes, that's reallllllllllllly classy of you.
2. The fact that, even though I was completely stressed out by the level of itchiness on my body, I could not scratch adequately due to the overweight, middle-aged woman sitting next to me.
Yet another morning of negativity for me. I'll blame it on working at General Scrap. If I didn't work there I would not have had to wake up that early, and catch that particular bus with those particular (and choosy about their choice locations of biting) mosquitoes, beside that particular woman. General Scrap strikes again. After today, only three more days... well two.. I think I'm coming down with something and will end up calling in sick tomorrow :P ... Shame.
This morning on the bus, a ride which is typically quite productive as I sleep for a good twenty minutes, I was more than annoyed at the hoards of mosquitoes swarming around my body. There was not a chance of me catching a wink on this bus ride. Being really sleepy, I still attempted to sleep as I was kept up last night by two pests of a different species; boys. Obviously I'm kidding, I love you boys I'm glad you kept me up :)
Anyways, it was impossible thanks to the un-ceasing attacks to my flesh by some ugly little insects. There were two worst parts to this scenario:
1. The locations on my body at which these damn insects chose to infest. During my bus ride this morning, I was the un-grateful recipient of two bites on my left foot, one bite on my right foot, one on my right index finger and one on my left cheek. Thanks mosquitoes, that's reallllllllllllly classy of you.
2. The fact that, even though I was completely stressed out by the level of itchiness on my body, I could not scratch adequately due to the overweight, middle-aged woman sitting next to me.
Yet another morning of negativity for me. I'll blame it on working at General Scrap. If I didn't work there I would not have had to wake up that early, and catch that particular bus with those particular (and choosy about their choice locations of biting) mosquitoes, beside that particular woman. General Scrap strikes again. After today, only three more days... well two.. I think I'm coming down with something and will end up calling in sick tomorrow :P ... Shame.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Magic Sheets
There is something about the sheets on my bed at this very moment. They might be magic.
My family has always prioritized bed sheets matching the color scheme of the bedroom. For example, when I was younger, my room was yellow, I had yellow flower curtains, a yellow flower bedspread and of course, yellow sheets. Then I moved to the room next door in order to live in solitude and wanted to paint these new walls of mine yellow (I guess I like yellow walls?), but I wanted to have red "things", So I had red curtains, red sheets, and a red bedspread. After that move, I moved right back to the old room where, in the meantime, my sister had painted the walls a wonderful, pleasing to the eye, combination of blue's. She had blue curtains (bad choice) accented with white sheets and bedspread. After she went and got herself married, I took over and resumed the same color scheme. Then I went to Australia and my loving mother did some touch-ups in the room and bought me new sheets; some blue, some white. She also bought me new pyjamas which was a thoughtful gesture on her part... The pyjamas obviously matched the color scheme of the room; white and blue. That's my mom for ya.
The white sheets are special.
See, the first time I put those sheets on my bed, I knew something was different about them. I knew they weren't just sheets, but something more, indeed something out of this realm. No, that's a lie, but really... they are incredible. When I wake up in the morning all I can think about is the sheets on my bed. The thoughts that run through my head are, no, not "I want to stay in bed", but "I need to stay between these sheets". They are so silky (but not silk), soft (not flannel), pretty (they aren't [insert something funny that I can't think of here]) ... Just all around amazing. I can't even find the words to describe the magnitude of their splendor. If only everyone could have a snooze in my bed to experience these sheets. They really make getting out of bed at 5:25am quite the feat. Today that was definitely the case... I lost though. My mom got me out of bed at 5:40. Thankfully I have something to blame that on, the sheets.
Now I'm at work eating the jujubes off the reception desk because I didn't have time to have breakfast and my tummy feels yucky because of it. Blah.
My family has always prioritized bed sheets matching the color scheme of the bedroom. For example, when I was younger, my room was yellow, I had yellow flower curtains, a yellow flower bedspread and of course, yellow sheets. Then I moved to the room next door in order to live in solitude and wanted to paint these new walls of mine yellow (I guess I like yellow walls?), but I wanted to have red "things", So I had red curtains, red sheets, and a red bedspread. After that move, I moved right back to the old room where, in the meantime, my sister had painted the walls a wonderful, pleasing to the eye, combination of blue's. She had blue curtains (bad choice) accented with white sheets and bedspread. After she went and got herself married, I took over and resumed the same color scheme. Then I went to Australia and my loving mother did some touch-ups in the room and bought me new sheets; some blue, some white. She also bought me new pyjamas which was a thoughtful gesture on her part... The pyjamas obviously matched the color scheme of the room; white and blue. That's my mom for ya.
The white sheets are special.
See, the first time I put those sheets on my bed, I knew something was different about them. I knew they weren't just sheets, but something more, indeed something out of this realm. No, that's a lie, but really... they are incredible. When I wake up in the morning all I can think about is the sheets on my bed. The thoughts that run through my head are, no, not "I want to stay in bed", but "I need to stay between these sheets". They are so silky (but not silk), soft (not flannel), pretty (they aren't [insert something funny that I can't think of here]) ... Just all around amazing. I can't even find the words to describe the magnitude of their splendor. If only everyone could have a snooze in my bed to experience these sheets. They really make getting out of bed at 5:25am quite the feat. Today that was definitely the case... I lost though. My mom got me out of bed at 5:40. Thankfully I have something to blame that on, the sheets.
Now I'm at work eating the jujubes off the reception desk because I didn't have time to have breakfast and my tummy feels yucky because of it. Blah.
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Bilingual? ... Ex-bilingual is more like it.
If I was blogging on myspace I would set my "current mood" to depressed and the emoticon I'm sure would be the frown with a tear.
My resume says I'm bilingual, hence me having a job where I need to speak French... quite frequently. This should be a good thing, a great tool and a ticket to good pay. The problem at this very moment is that I'm becoming ever more aware of my disintegrating French skills. I might have to retire that segment of my resume all too soon. This makes me sad.
This morning I was on the phone with a man from Montreal and he was trying to order two new scrap bins (yeah... scrap bins.. I work at General Scrap, these are the kind of conversations I have). Things were going fine, but then he was giving me his contact information and he said it en Francais (naturally, as the conversation took place in French) and then tried to repeat it in English for me. This = tragic. He totally thought that I didn't understand his phone number in French, which I clearly did, but the fact that he thought I couldn't, means my grammar was that horrible he could tell I was a passe French speaker who's accent was sub-par.
Barf.
Maybe I should go back to uni in the fall and jump on the Language courses. My English could use some help aswell. *Sigh*
My resume says I'm bilingual, hence me having a job where I need to speak French... quite frequently. This should be a good thing, a great tool and a ticket to good pay. The problem at this very moment is that I'm becoming ever more aware of my disintegrating French skills. I might have to retire that segment of my resume all too soon. This makes me sad.
This morning I was on the phone with a man from Montreal and he was trying to order two new scrap bins (yeah... scrap bins.. I work at General Scrap, these are the kind of conversations I have). Things were going fine, but then he was giving me his contact information and he said it en Francais (naturally, as the conversation took place in French) and then tried to repeat it in English for me. This = tragic. He totally thought that I didn't understand his phone number in French, which I clearly did, but the fact that he thought I couldn't, means my grammar was that horrible he could tell I was a passe French speaker who's accent was sub-par.
Barf.
Maybe I should go back to uni in the fall and jump on the Language courses. My English could use some help aswell. *Sigh*
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