One of the reasons...

I didn’t update for a week is that I started volunteering at the Children’s Society charity shop on North Street in Durham. I went two days last week. It’s been fun trying to decode the accents and answering questions about where I’m from. But the biggest perk is that I’m around people. It gets me out and meeting people. I also get to observe the funner and finer elements of Durham culture, like the older man wearing a Russian fur hat complete with flaps and rhinestone brooches across his tummy.

I can’t make this stuff up. And to make it seem even funnier (even though this is a true story) I’ll tell you how I came to observe him:

A fellow volunteer*, “C”, and I were organizing jewelry at the till (cash register) when this gentleman stopped in front of us. He had at this point browsed through the entirety of the store and didn’t find anything to his liking. Except the jewelry. The two or three rhinestone pins we had laid out on the counter to be exact. He stared at those pins for a good two minutes, not acknowledging C or me at all. Then he left.

I wish he had let himself buy a pin to keep the other five across his tummy company.

Volunteer

I’m taking my application to volunteer at a charity resale shop down to the city centre today. Read an article on a teaching-job-locater site (tes.co.uk) that has made me feel a bit better about the lack of success I’ve had with jobs. I know that if I think I’m having a hard time, there’s someone who’s got it rougher:

http://www.tes.co.uk/article.aspx?storycode=6053540

So that’s not such a big deal anymore. It still is sad in some ways, for me but I want to get this emotion over and done with. I know that when I look back on the time spent here I’m going to have some interesting memories and I don’t want them tainted with me recollecting how I mooned over my old job and bleated on about not getting one here.

So here’s a fun story:

Getting Natalie ready for bed last night. This was the end of tooth brushing stage of the evening process. She likes things her way and when she doesn’t get her way, she’ll yell. Wonder where she gets it.  Natalie does like the taste of toothpaste and will more often eat it than brush with it. So I’ll brush her teeth after she’s done because I’m trying to clean her teeth after she’s done her vague attempt. I will even model the tooth brush process. This is tiresome to her and she’ll argue with me by yelling. I usually respond with drama queen comments.  this was our conversation:

“Come on drama queen.”

“I’m not a queen , I’m Natalie.”

“Well you can be a bit of a drama queen sometimes.”

“No, I’m a puppy.”

I really can’t argue with this.

Clever title

Happy Birthday Dad. Sent a couple of cards. Hope they arrive on time. 

Took another extended bus trip yesterday. This time, only had mesel’ and chose to do this on purpose. I picked the #20 bus to Sunderland. Saw some of the area that I hadn’t seen yet. Wrote a little while on the bus. There were some fairly interesting bits of architecture that I’d like to explore … A collection of imposing red brick buildings and what appeared to be (from a distance, on a hill top, through rain) ruins of a Roman-ish temple. At first, while I was on the bus, I thought I was mistaken and that it had other uses (grain elevator?) But I get to the Sunderland bus station and there’s a painting of what I saw from the bus. A temple-like building: 5 or so pillars, with lintel. But with a little rooting around on the internet, found out that it was built in 1844 in the Doric style (Greek) as a monument to the first Earl of Durham.

I got excited over a reproduction. But then again, millions of visitors to the Disney theme parks get excited over those castles, so I’m not alone.

Today, we’re shooting for Hartlepool’s Tall Ships Races 2010. It’s time we showed Natalie a larger body of water than the River Wear.

update 12 hours later: verdict- disappointing. bus ride home- horrendous. Natalie- very good.

Have learned some disturbing bits of information about the universities here… They cost £3000 a year…ALL OF THEM. Cambridge, Oxford, Durham all cost the same as say, the University of Sunderland. And that you can only apply to 6 total. So I imagine that if you get rejected by all 6 then you’re screwed. No college for you. And you can’t apply to both Cambridge and Oxford. You can only apply to one or the other, not both.

As you can see, I have learned how to put pictures in the blog only slightly. Still working on this.

Am I living in the land of the original racists?

WTF?

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/newsnight/8881030.stm

Watch the video after you read the article. At the end, the journalist interviewing the multi-racial group of students asks if racism is still a problem in Oldham. The question is not shown being asked of the homogenous white group of students.

FAIL

I just want to knock some sense into their little heads.

Royal Mail service and Accents

Delivery times are variable BUT the speed by which they operate is phenomenal. Case in point, I was on the phone with the director of Off the Page yesterday around 3:30 pm about booking my spot in a workshop. Our conversation determined that a paper copy of the form needed to be sent (mailed). It arrived here today at @ 10 am. The speed of the Royal Mail service is really something special. This wasn’t the only time, either, that a piece of mail has arrived so expeditiously. There’s a current movement right now to do away with having county names in the address. This is causing some consternation for people in Essex and Middlesex

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-10825499

A side note, a book I read (or something similar) recently referred to the onset of the ZIP code. On reflection, I’m certain it was The Help by Kathryn Stockett. This book is set in 1963 in Mississippi and I liked learning that the US started the ZIP code system as late as that. It wasn’t required at first for private homes but was something that started as a way to regulate business mailings.

http://inventors.about.com/od/xyzstartinventions/a/zipcode.htm

So, the residents of certain counties here may not live in that county technically. But counties are really a lot like our states. One guy who commented on the BBC article  is a police officer and said that seeing the county name on documents helps him ‘get an idea where someone is from’.

Isn’t this familiar? Really, when you hear about what state someone is from, don’t you sort of get an idea of what that person is all about? It may or may not be a false perception of the person (Grapes of Wrath) but doesn’t it help you orient yourself on the person’s place in your idiom? I know what someone from Oklahoma, Texas, Florida, or New York might be like…but I’m having a hard time with Nevada.

I think the same thing is true here. People from this county are known as Geordies and Geordies have a reputation as supporters of Newcastle United. Northumberland and Durham are called ‘Geordieland’. Wikipedia reports a newspaper survey saying that the Geordie accent is found to be the ‘most attractive in England’. Which I find weird because I’ve met some people who’ve indicated that they find the accent harsh on the ears and really hard to understand. These people were from down South, like Bristol or London or something…I forget what.

It’s interesting to me that I can see a parallel with the US. Durham is in the northeast of the country and the accents here are harsh and quick. The further south, the accents have more of a drawl, posh-like. (author’s note: while haven’t been very far south, have met people from the south who don’t sound like Peter. Peter is the bartender with attitude and he’s got the harsh accent to go with it.) The same can be said of the US. In the northeast, you got the Noo Yawk and Noo Joisey accent that is fast and can be harsh sounding. And the farther south you go, you get the drawl and twang.

And then you’ve got Desi…who manages to combine the two in a fascinating amalgamation of sound. I dunno how she does it.

I hear that there’s betting going on about Natalie’s accent changing. I find this hilarious. Because really, she wasn’t having much of an accent to begin with. Yeh she’s going to a school where she’ll hear people talking and who’ll be talking to her, but then she comes home and I put on that twang like butter on a hot biscuit. I don’t think we’ll be here that long for a Geordie accent to really take hold but if it does, I got a fiver to put in the pot.

Thursdays with Peter

Every Thursday, I get to go to our pub, The Station, and sit and watch some American telly. I go for the purpose of watching ‘How I Met Your Mother’. If I get there early enough I can catch ‘Big Bang Theory’ which usually has some funny moments. And after my show, ‘Accidentally On Purpose’ comes on. So, its a nice hour and a half for myself and a pint of Stella Artois. There’s generally not a whole lot of people in the pub on a Thursday evening but tonight was the first time I thought about asking Peter to turn up the volume, the level of conversation noise and the amount of people was larger than is normal. Usually it’s the tv that’s a bit loud for me. Tonight was also another first… When I walked in, Peter said, “ah, so you in for your bit of show, eh?” They’re really pretty nice about letting me come in for it. Sometimes, Peter’s got on the tv already, watching ‘The Hotel Inspector’. It’s an hour long, but he’ll change it over for me when my show starts. Nice of him, and it makes up for the gentle wave of insults he pours my way.

Tonight, he was on top form. I was having a conversation with another customer, Karen, before my show started. She was asking the generic orientation questions you ask about someone from a different country, “what do you do?”, “why are you here?”.. blah blah blah. Of course the conversation flowed to what I do for a living (or used to) and how I was trying to continue it here. She asked (unsurprisingly) “what do you teach?” “Geography. And history, too.” I replied. Peter, lovely Peter, pipes up, “it’s a fooking shame that you get geography teachers who don’t know where the countries are. The Americans’ll be talking about Afghanistan on the telly, and they’re pointing to Australia. ‘s a bloody shame, that’s what it is.” To which I immediately retort, “Afghanistan, Australia…they both start with an ‘A’. Cut them some slack.”  ”I bloody well have to, given the state American education is in.” OMG. So I bite the bait and decide to play. I ask, “does Afghanistan have a coastline?” Peter pauses. “No, they don’t. It’s Pakistan that’s got the coast, what with Karachi being the big port there.” And I’m pleased for him because he’s right and that’s nice for someone who might have only gone to school up to age 16. But only for a moment because then he retorts, “now what’s it’s new capital now, eh?”

Okay, I know it’s Islamabad but I was in the middle of texting Brent and Autumn and Peter has the cheek to accuse me of looking it up ON MY PHONE! And he doesn’t even have the decency to follow up after I’m done. So, I’m pretty sure (73%) that he thinks I’m typical stupid American. But there was some weird thing in a newspaper photo that he kept saying were nuts. I wasn’t listening that closely, my show was on. But Karen was involved and all I remember her saying was, “are you barking mad? I don’t see any nuts.” I don’t want to think more about this.

I’ve been going to the Station on Thursdays with some regularity. Missed once, but it was my birthday and I was at a movie (Eclipse).  Anyway Peter comments about nearly every actor on my show, particularly Johnny Galecki and Alyson Hannigan. He comments about what shows they used to be in or what movies. His favorite is the actress from Gilmore Girls, Lauren Graham. Doesn’t care about any other American shows. Thinks they’re crap. But he knows others because, well, you can’t really be unaware of American shows here and so he’ll utter random statements as questions about the actors on the current show. He did it again tonight, but in a way that caught my attention. It was like he’s never seen these shows. I called him out on it. “Dude, you’re here every week I am. We have this conversation every time I come in to watch the show.” Nothing fazes Peter. “Yeah well its not like I watch these shows. Avoid them like the plague don’t I?”, he replies.

I give up. For the evening. But not before I join in with Karen teasing him about male menopause. Which might be real, who knows?

To those of you who read 7/27, things are looking up, like they do. It’s never grey here in my head for very long.

Daily Booth

found a pretty fun user site to include the daily life pictures some of you have asked for: dailybooth.com
Look for ‘MollieB’

Natalie is on her first field trip; Tweddle Farm. It is right by the sea side in Hartlepool. We almost didn’t make it in time to catch the “coach” and I had forgotten it was today. Tweddle Farm is a little over 30 minutes away from here at home, so if there’s a problem I’ll be able to get to her fairly quickly. Anxiety is the word for today.

To address yesterday’s post: mentally in a better position. Have written about 1/3 to 1/2 of the outline. Skeleton of an outline really. We’ll see.

Dan’s birthday was yesterday and for dinner we went to The Capital Indian restaurant. I’ve gotten Dan to come over to the dark side. He hated Indian food back home and here, well, out of all possible things he could have had for his birthday dinner, like MEATLOAF, he picks Indian. We met up with his Cuban colleague, Maykel there. Maykel is really nice and I was thrilled to bits to get to meet a real Cuban. I’m glad Dan has nice people to work with. It’s a pretty international group he’s got: Alisdair, James (whose father is a priest!), Piotr, Maykel, and Ruth. Haven’t met Ruth yet, but I hope to.

I got a great box of American junk food from my dad and Joan this morning. And every time I use my vanilla creamer, I think of you Erin and am very grateful.

Here’s WHAT’S GOOD:
Field Trips
Silmarillion first edition
Packages from home
Skype
Sisters who stay up until past 5 am watching True Blood
Being called ‘pet’ by elderly gentleman when I’ve given up a seat on the bus so he can sit
Microwaves
Shaun the Sheep

July is ending. The August blues are starting.

And Dan’s birthday is today. I am now 31. Natalie is 3.

WARNING: this post is not happy go lucky. If you want happy go lucky, wait a bit.  I’m feeling negative recently about my capabilities and lack of job prospects. Eventually, I’m going to quit whinging and whining about this but not just yet.

I am missing home a bit. I think about home because I suppose, for lack of a  better way to say it, I’m not there. I assure you that I really am trying to enjoy my time here. I appreciate what it took to get here and that I’m learning a lot about another country. I am also learning a lot about me.

I cry watching Pixar’s Cars. I know that Mack and Lightening are on the road that goes home. My home. I am jealous of the landscape that you are surrounded by because it is my wide open spaces and the silence of a drive that I don’t experience now. I miss that. In that movie, the character Sally talks about how cars didn’t drive to make good time, they used to drive to have a good time. You must’ve heard how America is a driving culture. England is a walking culture. Met a guy at The Station who’s 21 and doesn’t have a licence or the desire to get one.  I’ve got a licence and I’ve got a car, albeit a POS, that sits in my driveway. We’re not driving it, really, for pretty good reasons (fuel prices and changeover of licences, don’t get me started) and we bought it for really good reasons (emergencies). So it sits there and I see it every time I pass the front window and I itch to drive it far far away, just to drive far far away.

And another thing, I don’t like staying home. I don’t like being a housewife. My mom was one for a while and I think that she did a pretty dang good job of it…so I’ve got the good example, but meh. Now, before you start the critique in your head because I’m complaining that I have too much, hear me out. Back home, the summer months would be time off from my teaching job. I had vacation time and treated it like such and come end of July I was ALWAYS mentally and emotionally ready to go back to work. I WANTED to go back. I once read a quote from a teacher that kind of is me, “…my husband knew that June and July were family time, but come August he knew better than to ask me to do anything that wasn’t about school.” This is the first time in my life that I have not had some school event beginning in the near future to prepare for. And I’m at a loss. Now, I don’t know what I want. I talked to a really good friend recently who reminded me that I had said I would write over there if I didn’t get a job. Well. I didn’t get a job. I’ve applied. No positive responses. So am I supposed to do what I said I’d do and write that dang story or am I going to be a flake like usual?

I’ve got this story idea that I’ve been mulling over for a year now. Some of you know about it, some of you may have read my pathetic attempts at a beginning. And that just might be the crux of the matter. Any story, no matter how good you think it might become, is just not going to get written…if you don’t know how to start. I used to think I was a decent writer. But that was in the context of term papers. I could churn those suckers out like cottage cheese. But a story? Please.You write a story and you’re writing yourself. I don’t know if I want to examine myself in that fashion. I’m afraid of what will come out. I’m afraid that this really cute and funny idea I had will become crap. I’m afraid I’m going to kill it while writing and so I’m killing it slowly before I even really begin. So this year’s worth of thinking has boiled down to the realization that if it is going to be written then I have to start with an outline…which I’m clueless to start. And yeah, I’ve gotten in contact with a creative writing workshop, just waiting for a reply to my email.

Please don’t think I need you to say “poor baby”, I just don’t have my normal outlet of expressing disgruntlement. So I do it here in public for you all to see.

So how does this fit in with the beginnings of homesickness? Because when you’re home, you aren’t out of your comfort zone that you’ve created for yourself so you don’t have the discrepancies staring you in your face. Would this be any different if we were in a different state, say, Kansas or New Hampshire? Would it be better or worse?

I suppose that what I’m really getting at is that I’m pissed off. At myself, at the system of applications to schools (you have to apply to each, not a district), at the minutiae, at having to wait for my paradigm shift. And you know what? If I were in front of you or on the phone with you I wouldn’t say one word of this to you. Dunno why. Maybe I would.

Here’s WHAT’S GOOD:

Reward Charts

Isaac Asimov

Birthdays

Car rides

Anonymous friendly ears

Potential

St Oswald’s Sunshine Club