Today I wander into the office thinking ‘hm, must get back to Franck about that weekend in London, maybe I’ll get to see Gwen, must find out what happened to all the French over the weekend, going home on Friday hurrah’ and then on a suspicious rumour I moseyed up to Logistics to check when we’re actually starting our offshore ops – I’d heard filthy rumours that maybe it was happening next week not three weeks from now.
Filthy alas, but true. (more…)
In 24 hours I’ve had two separate linguistic adventures. I suspect this is because I clearly look like both 1. a native English speaker and 2. someone who won’t just frown and keep walking.
The first was in the corner supermarket, where I was carefully considering the cottage cheese selection. A woman accosted me and asked me where she could find the cream. Though it came out sounding more like “clllllleeeem” with a very rolled R. I may have been the worst person in the store she could have asked, since I’ve given up on depending on American sources for decent milk products and I’ve never needed to use, um, cream. I pulled a half pint of “Heavy Whipping Cream” off the shelf and handed it to her with the disclaimer that it probably wouldn’t be as good as what she was used to. “This is cllllleeeem of milk?” I told her “Yes.” I sincerely hope I was right.
The second happened, interestingly enough, when I was retrieving today’s lunch portion of the aforementioned cottage cheese (my choice, anyway) from the group fridge. Another woman with an exotic accent accosted me, asking “You are a native speaker of English, right?” I nodded, and we spent the next few minutes discussing her preposition choices in a manuscript that had recently been rejected due to “some grammatical errors.” Apparently she’d been having a real problem finding a native English speaker in the group this morning.
I told her we don’t tend to make it to the office before noon, if ever. That, coupled with the World Cup fever that’s seized the non-native English speaking population of the lab, means it’s a wonder she found anyone in the lab at all.
“Did you, um, go to school in Alabama?”
This is not a question I hear every day. In fact, no one’s ever asked me that before, without already knowing where I’m from. Certainly not a stranger on the street. Especially not an extra. An extra for a Discovery Channel Shark Week TV commercial walking around Caltech in knee high white boots and a Bight University t-shirt (and Paul not here to appreciate the pun). When the dyed blonde had said “Hi,” looking in my direction a moment before, I had assumed she was talking to someone behind me. With that question, however, I abruptly realized she was in fact talking to me. I didn’t recognize her, but I’m notoriously awful at placing people outside of their relevant spheres, and even within, still pretty bad. I look at her bewildered expression and reply, “Yes, actually – I did. I’m Michelle.” To which she replies, “OH MY GOD! It’s Charity!” followed by a totally classic sorority girl chick flick reunion scene. Before being herded off by the director’s assisstant’s assistant, she handed me her card, and congratulated me on getting out of Alabama.
I love the fact that it’s a small world. I love how even though I didn’t know her all that well, I haven’t seen her in eight years, and I know absolutely nothing about what she’s doing and how she got here, for those 2 minutes of hugging, we were the best of friends. I love how random it is that someone from my high school swim team in Mobile, Alabama, is now pursuing a Hollywood acting career. More power to you, Charity. And if anyone needs an actress, let me know, and I’ll put you in touch.
So. It’s been a while but I’m faced with a conundrum in that the relationship between me and a coworker has turned wretched and I’m not sure what to do. I realised things were bad when I was putting in extra hours before and after I ought to be there to make sure my ass was covered when things they said caught up with both of us. (more…)