Boxing "just another excuse for Scottish people to party" day.

Last night Britt and I went out for the first time in Edinburgh to a night club. We went with a girl from my work. She weighs about 35 pounds I think she drank about 75 litres of alcohol- this is what happens when you do that:

Here are some more interesting things that I witnessed:

ample ass space on that seat

"dancing"

her mother would be proud.

Messages to pass on:
*just drink those pictures in
*Apparently Edinburgh is world renown for being the greatest place in the world for new years eve. awesome.

Happy Christmas

So Christmas day has come and gone. Spending Christmas away from home is a funny thing. It can go many ways:
option 1: The Bridget Jones- drunk, alone, crying, singing 90s ballads
option 2: The Scrooge- act like its no other day and try and get on with things but you can't cause nothing is open
option 3: The Scotsman- act as you would on ANY other bank holiday and get loser pissed with your buddies at a night club (that is open on Christmas day)
option 4: The Right thing to do- combine new traditions with old and make a memorable time.

Option 4 was chosen... haha yea right that sounds way too nice and Hallmark like. I'd say I did a little of all options. I was scrooging it up most of the week prior to Christmas- I was working a lot and it doesn't snow here so I wasn't feeling very Christmas-ie. Then Britt and I went for the right thing to do, we combined some our family traditions and had our selves a lovely Christmas eve and morning. We got each other one gift each and a stocking. For the one gift the two of us bought each other the exact same CD- this is where the Bridgett Jones comes into play because we obviously put it straight on and belted Take That tunes. 11am came and we had to go to work. I work for 9 hours, serving North American families who loved me because I reminded them of home, speak audible English, am witty, and good looking. I loved them because they were not informed that no one tips here (fist pump followed with a long drawn out yesssssssss).

The only people working serving that day were me my three managers and a Nigerian guy name Dozi who had gotten jumped the night before so his front teeth were broken so I had to talk to all his table because he was too scary. The guys were all wearing kilts it was hilarious. One of the highlights of the day would be a point were we were really busy and my one manager has a thick accent and also mumbles and he tried to tell me something and I yell speak English at him- just as the owner rounded the corner. He said I was listening in Canadian and he was speaking Scottish, then hit the otter guy on the back of the head and told him to speak properly.
That night Britt, I Dozi, the one manager and the owner and his family had Christmas dinner. It was awesome, good turkey, board games, and a lot of port and champagne. It was actually so nice that they invited us. And I got to speak to all my family- it was great!!!

I don't think I'd like to ever work on Christmas again even though I made about 150 pounds ($300).

Messages to pass on:
*Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!!!
*Over here Santa does not live at the North pole in a house or cottage- no he lives in a gratto. Children often talk about Santa's gratto and all I can think of is Santa in some cave like hot tub surrounded but hoochey elves.
*Here is a picture of my Christmas tree and the Angel I made for the top of it out of Werthers and reices pieces wrappers

Black Friday

Well, I worked my first close at the pub last Friday night. Let me explain to you my day, in full that day. I woke up at six so I could be at work at seven. I worked at a different Starbucks then I usually do from 7am-11am. Then I walked over to my Starbucks, in torrential rain, and worked from 11am until 3pm. I then walked, in torrential rain, to Princess street to buy new shoes because mine were a. rain soaked and b. had a giant hole in the toe and were totally pov. Didn't find shoes in time to be at work at the pub at 5pm. Started work where I VERY quickly realized I'm shit at my job (this wasn't clear to me already even though two nights before I smashed four and a half pint glasses in one swoop, on my manager's shoes). The bar was pretty busy because we get a DJ in on Friday and Saturday and there is a dance floor and a popular pub just up the road was on fire so all the people who got avacuated just came into our pub-apparently not even arsen can stop teh party. Anyways I'm bad at my job because of a few things:
1. I can't understand Scottish accents
2. I can't understand Scottish accents when there is music thumping in the same room
3. I can't understand Scottish accents when there is music thumping in the same room and the person talking is hammered and slurring
4. I don't know any of the made up drinks any of these people are ordering.
5. The register is bizzar and it takes me forever to find what the F the drinks being ordered are.
In general if you order a drink form me you'll either get the wrong thing or I'll rip you off.

The night was full of highs and lows- I was exhausted and was basically in a glass case of emotions because I was either killing my job or getting killed by it- no in between. The aforementioned reasons why I suck at my job lead to some different things. One is that a lot of the old men ordering would get tired of me asking them over and over to repeat heir order and just yell that they want a MGD instead. The second one would be when a customer leaned in to give an order and so did, as I had done before a million times that night. This gentleman however decided to kiss me. Great- One way ticket on his ass by the doorman- actually it was awesome I laughed so hard. Third was the drunk girl asking me if there was a lost and found. I asked her what she had lost and she replied "all of my personal belongings".

The night finished at 3:00am when I got home. The next day I worked from 12pm - 10pm. I wanted to kill myself. This night's highlights would have to be the very intoxicated man maintaining constant eye contact with me well yelling the lyrics to "my sex is on fire" by kings of Leon and then ask for my phone number. Its all over though and it was actually all quite amusing. After those long days one would probably think to go home after work on Saturday night. Not I. Britt brought me some clothes to change into and we were off to a pub called The last drop.

There we met some incredible specimens. The first was an Irish man whose first line to us was "Hey theres an accent- are you Spanish?". I'll let you take that in. We obviously kept talking to him. This lead to him asking if our provincial flag had the union jack in it. I said yes- and he got upset because Irish people really don't like British. I said to him yea there is nothing we can do about it though. He replied, and I quote, "Yes there is; car bombs". He went on to explain that we should use car bombs to change our provincial flag and ended the conversation by taking our hands and having us say "car bombs on three...one, two, three, CAR BOMBS". Wow.

After having an incredible laugh over that I was approached by a British guy, suffering from a mild case of gingervitus, a lot like myself actually (see link for definition). He hit on me for a while and then it hit me he looked just like Colin from Love actually and that is what Britt and I called him the rest of the time- adding in movie quotes whenever possible.

Britt and I were both off on Sunday and got to spend the day shopping and hanging out it was awesome- really worked on our roomie relationship. Good times.

Messages to pass on:
*Our boss at the pub invited us to have Christmas dinner with him and his family in the dinning room at the pub. Super nice/lucky
*I will have pictures of our " Christmas corner" in our flat soon- its amazing.
*I got new shoes for work- don't worry.
*dad keep up the good work with the falling stories- I disturb the library with my laughter.
*there is a man on the computer beside me who keeps raising his arm and waving his middle finger around in a circle- I'm not sure if he is looking for help or what.
*Christmas came early tahnks to Sandi

Top Ten

I find myself at the library again this evening. This time I'm situated beside two girls, who I would say are about 14. They seem to be doing some research for a school project or something, but I'm not sure if they are getting the material they are looking for because I'll I've witness them do is yell out the F-word, belch, and slam the keyboard repeatedly. Constructive work girls.

Today I went to work at 5:45am instead of 8:00am- nice work ass hat.

I read another intersting article in the paper today. It was the top nine most well know people in the world (heaven forbid they do the full ten). It was by a British agency, I'm not sure which one, but it must be legit because the list seems quite acurrate. Here it is in order from most known:
1. Simon Cowell
2. God (a close second I can imagine)
3. The Queen
4. Santa Claus
5. David Beckam
6. Jesus
7. Lewis Hamilton
8. Barak Obama
9. George Busch

Sorry Jesus, no top five finish for you this year, there is really no room at the inn this Christmas, expecially without your celebrity status to fall back on.

Are you kidding me- I don't even know who Lewis Hamilton is (looked it up- British Racecar driver). And Simon Cowell beat the likes of Santa Clause- well good thing he is stinking rich becuase after snubbing the man in red I'm pretty sure he'll have to delivery the presents this year.

After pondering this article for quite some time I then read the fine print at thebottom. Results from survey conducted with 1600 children under the age of 10. Here I am preparing for the appocolypse of the world due to one giant smiting of the Earth by the combined 2/5 finish of the Almighties when really these are the oppinions of British school children probably coaxed into answering odd-ball questions. But are these kids sniffing glue- Simon Cowell over Santa. Ya ya not every child celebrates Christmas- but all children long for Santa to come down their Chimney, even if they are busy playing with their dradell or confined to their windowless kingdom of god buildings for no celebrations what-so-ever. Give me a break. And Barack Obama and George Busch- pretty sure if I were being asked when I was seven or eight politicians would not be included and I'm pretty sure there would be a solid showing of answers like "my mommy & daddy"

This survey rocked my world.

Messages to pass on:
*I got a Christmas tree for 97 pence and decorated it including an angel made out of worther's orgional wrapers, and reices peices paper cups - Heather you would be proud
*I looked at teh brige cam today and I can't beleive the snow there!! Gald I'm not crising in the volvo this year
*gloves without fingers are the dumbest things I've ever seen- when was teh last time you were outside and thoguh to yourself, wow my palms and wrists are really cold.
*Heather hows Chico Patulla?

Partner Appreciation

I'm currently in the public library using the Internet. Why?
1.its free
2.I alienated myself at my local Internet cafe-two days ago I actually went into the Internet cafe and used the computers and when they wouldn't accept my payment in Euros (probably because that isn't the currency here), I said I'd come back later and haven't been back since.
3. you get to witness things like the man "studying" beside me- aka sleeping on a book entitled "Hello, is it me you're looking for?- the story of Alexander Graham Bell".

I'm working lots at Starbucks, getting to know the regulars. My favourites would have to be (in no particular order)
- stone cold fox from the states who always informs me of how long I've been in Scotland for-just wants to talk to me so bad
-two business men who think I'm American and therefor its okay when I often refer to them as life partners
-super hot British dad who now lives in Seattle but informs me every time he comes in that he "traveled to Banff and it was so beautiful, like a lot of things from Canada..."

Sandi there is a plethora of staff members who I'd love for you to meet. I mean there is no drive thru so there are no partners who know customers by the sound of there voice and asking them deeply personal questions, but you know there is going to be some shit show no matter where you work. Well this one sobs uncontrollably often, and is constantly asking me if I'm alright and tells me she is concerned that I'm not my usual self. This question actually came at 7:00am the second time I EVER met her and I found myself channeling Cluny and responding to her question with "Ya I'm fine. You literally don't even know me so I'm not sure where you are getting that I'm not my usual self, seriously." Quickly realizing that I pretty much verbally assaulted this girl who already lives teetering on the emotional edge, I followed up with a cheery "thanks for asking though" and went into the staff room without making any eye contact. I realized my original action may have been the right one when she told me three more times that day that I didn't seem myself- for f sakes lady. I actually felt quite bad and made it my mission to be pleasant to her. This was fine until she pulled some move and jokingly I responded "are you on drugs" as I would to anyone, friend or foe, as she responded "don't joke about that someone told our district manager that I was on drugs and now he really doesn't like me." Alrighty. TELLE HOO HOO.


I'll give everyone time to digest. In other news, Scottish people bet on everything. LITERALLY everything. This morning while reading the news paper I read through Ladbrokers (the betting agency) list of odds. Here are some of my favorites that I'm considering betting on (not making this up- actual money bets):
-what the number one Christmas single will be
-who is going to win dancing with the stars
-if its going to snow on Christmas (specific to postal code no lees)
-who is going to get third in dancing with the stars.

Messages to pass on:
*I here its nice and warm there...
*another package?!!? LUCKY
*dear Moxie, don't let anyone tell you you are not a lady anymore.

UPDATE- an old man just fell up the staris in the library. Too goo dto be true- I actually had to go back into this post just to tell you about how much joy it brought me.
PS he's fine & I love the library.

Side Stepping Sidewalks

So there is something really interesting about Edinburgh that Britt and I have come across and until recently could not figure out. If you are walking down the street, any street, any day of the week, any time of the day, you will more often then not come across a pile of puke. Really, anywhere- more then one if you are walking a bit of a distance. Britt and I could not figure it out at all- until I was walking to work on Friday (around 9:30 am) and witnessed an old man stop, barf all over the sidewalk, wipe his mouth on his sleeve, and continue on his merry way. I actually burst out in laughter. I continued to laugh, until literally five minutes later, I witnessed another man- similar description- repeated the actions of the man before. My laughter stopped. There are crotchety old men blowing chunks all over this city, and its not pretty. Britt and I are both boggled by these occurrences.

Britt also had a great sighting of crotchety old man sighting- as she walked home form work a lady approached an old Man (basically a stereotypically tiny Scottish man in plaid) to ask for directions. The old man screamed fuck off in here face and went on his way. I had to site down because I was laughing so hard when I heard this story. I hope you guys have the same vision and are brought the same joy.

Messages to pass on:
*the purple triscuits you sent me mom are unreal- I thank God everyday for their invention
*I've come to realize that Asians with Scottish accents are an incredible wonder of the world (I work with two!)
*on Wednesday everyone I worked with at Starbucks was Canadian- we blew customer's minds
*I was asked by a guy at my pub if I was Australian- it was like the moment in Dumb and Dumber when Lloyd responds lets throw another shrimp on the barbie when told the lady is Austrian.

"Work Experience"

I long for the days where I could be on the Internet anytime I want- carelessly blogging and catting online with hot babes all day. I sit here in an Internet cafe the smells of cleaning solution and incense feeding the need to blog like there is no tomorrow.

Well I started working last week. Starbucks. Well thats all I have to say about that. Oh Sandi I think you'd really thrive at the location I work at; its right in a business area and between 8 and 9 there is a large population of stone cold foxes in suits that come in basically begging to be hit on and called boyfriend even though you've never met them before. I contemplate using your boyfriend technique for breaking the ice and eventually dating some of these customers, but then I remember you do this and are still single and decide to just use sarcasm to brighten there day.

I started at the Beehive waitressing and battening on Sunday. I started by training a bit- nothing too crazy. Really good story right off the bat though. First you must know that the pub was originally a hotel and therefore has about three million different ways of getting around places and five different staircases and I really only know how to get to two places that are not the main floor bar: the kitchen, and the staff room. Alright so I was told to go put my jacket in the office- no idea how to get there so I figured I'd just put it in the staff room- walk in and there is a guy sitting there in his underwear. What I do? Well drop my coat and say HI in an awkwardly loud voice then leave with my head down. What does he do? Nothing. Ever. I saw him about ten times that day and he said nothing- not even hi or hey my name is___. Britt (who works in the kitchen and met this guy before) had to inform me that his name was Tommy and hes an angry Pole.

Anyways After that trauma I actually killed my shift. There were only three people working from 10-5, me the assistant manager and the manager. So I get taught some stuff then get sent out to the first customer of the day. Hot young guy and his girlfriend (referred to from now on as hottay). Here is how my service to them went italics indicate inner monologue:
Me-hi how are you
hottay: Good. Whats in haggis
Me: fuck, stay cool -I have no idea I'm Canadian-good one
hottay: oh awesome well I'm not sure I want to know whats in it anyways, not sure if I'll get it
Me: be a man order it nice one jackass Rachel
hottay: hahahaha you're right I'll get that
witty witty joke joke throughout meal, clever banter at every opportunity.
Me: anything else for you
Hottay: yea your number- just the bill thanks
BOOM 40% tip.

Continued all day with more successful banter.

Britt and I are settling into our place now. Mom I got your package yesterday and it was awesome!!! The best part was the Triscuit crackers- and Britt's face when I opened up the Canuck socks. oh and the Carter Christmas Card and note by Heather- okay it was all awesome!!!

Messages to pass on:
*public transit is my savior
*apparently "ta" is the same as thank you in Scotland. It feels like I'm a child and I'm about to put something dangerous in my mouth.
*Happy birthday mom!!

Unemployment- more like funemployment

Today is the last day I have off before officially launching back into the world of employment. I will indeed be working at The Bux as well as a pub called the beehive. Had a short shift yesterday at Starbucks and back into the world of corporate ridiculum. I work with a Canadian- small world you say? well hes from Victoria, lived in Kelowna, and is here to play hockey; I just can't escape. Britt starts on Monday at her pub job. So we are both happily employed.

We spent our first night in our flat last night. It was pretty good/cold. I have nothing funny to say about it right now so I'll save a description for another time- I'll post some pics as well so you can have a lovely visual.

Messages to pass on:

*you have to pay some sort of tv tax here- thats shit

*starbucks only give 1/2 pound marckouts- cheapos

*I'm in Edinburgh for anyone who is still unclear (mom)

Batting 500

Thanks for all the well wishes for the interviews today- they worked! I got offered two jobs right after the interviews and am waiting on phone calls from the other two.

The first job offer was from- drum roll: Starbucks. Pretty much nailed the interview- not because I've worked there before and had been asked the exact same questions before, no sir; it was because of the wise words of my father "Remember the 3 keys to interviewing. Charm, Charm and Charm". Really there was no stopping me after I was delivered that golden ticket of wisdom.

Job number two is at a pub called The Beehive. Big pub in a section of town called the Grassmarket. With three smooth interviews down and the crown jewel of fatherly tips in my pocket this bar manager really didn't know what hit him: Charm out the wazoo. You want wit? I'll take you shopping at wit-mart. Oh its cleverness you're looking for? Well welcome to the land of clever- population Rachel. Within ten minutes of the interview I was getting a tour of the place, and asking which I'd like better part time or full time- which ever worked better for me...
I mean the interview went well and I got the job- start Sunday.

Messages to pass on:
*Tomorrow we move in!
*I have to buy black pants and collared shirt- why would I bring mine from home- too easy.
*keep up the good work commenters
*believe I'll get a library card tomorrow- any good book suggestions

Pub Crawl

So setting out last week giving out resumes Britt and I figured we'd get a couple phone calls over the weekend for interviews and what not. We were wrong. Not one phone call...all weekend...from anyone....50 resumes- 0 calls. Seriously!? It was like we had printed them out on toilet paper and handed them in used.

Sunday- depression hit. I mean nothing that sitting in on a dress rehearsal for a barber shop choir Christmas pageant won't cure, but a slump none the less.

Today we set out with the task of visiting places we had dropped resumes at already to follow up, and drop off even more. Again more disappointment with being turned aways with no hope of employment- even at Dirty Dick's!

One bright spot we got to meet up with Landlord Steve and make final agreements on lease and all that so the flat is officially ours (move in on Wednesday!).

After dropping my resume off at a BMW dealership, I decided to try my luck at a different Starbucks (I know-desperation). Like other place I was assured it would make its way to the manager. A minute later I receive a phone call from said manager and had an impromptu interview where I believe I received a job offer.

Leaving Starbucks after setting up a real interview for tomorrow, and feeling a little better, Brittany and I received five more phone calls for different interview all for tomorrow!

First interview is at Hog's head- bar job. I'm optimistic, not because of my vast bar experience- I have none- or because of my cunning whit and capabilities to participate in clever banter-my confidence in those areas are far higher then it should be- but because they were playing an American football game on the TV when I went in and that means there is a possibility they could play hockey in the bar and I could definitely dazzle patrons with my knowledge of such a purely Canadian sport. Three giant fist pumps in the air for national stereotypes!

Wish Britt and myself luck in the interviews tomorrow!

Messages to pass on:
*Alas as we move into our new digs on wed and will not have a computer, the blogs may be spread further apart- not to fret they will still come, and will undoubtedly have more content!
*they play Ally McBeal here a lot- its actually a great show, hilarious. Reintroduce yourself.
*everyone feel free to comment- I know there are some closet readers out there- and mom keep up the good work.