Wednesday 30 June 2010

Overheard at Work, vol.1

Or, funny things non-anglophones say in the shop.

Incidentally, I love the word "anglophone". It doesn't really exist in English, but it gives me a rather entertaining mental image combining certain features of a saxophone with an anglepoise lamp. Just thought you should know.

1. "Ve are looking for ze weapons of Fitzwilhelm College".

Translation: We are looking for the arms (heraldic shield) of Fitzwilliam College.

2. "I would like a pair of Christ's handcuffs".

Translation: I would like a pair of Christ's College cufflinks.

3. "I would like fresh one please".

Translation: I'm going to make you run up and down three flights of stairs four times in 30° heat until I decide I actually prefer the first tshirt you brought me.

4. "Is it here we pick our stuff up for graduation?"

Translation: I just assumed someone else would have booked my graduation things for me. What do you mean, you don't have any left? Are you a gown hire shop or what?

More to come soon, I imagine. Oh, how I love tourists.

Wednesday 23 June 2010

Cake Thursday

Last week I sort-of-accidentally started a new tradition at work: Cake Thursday.

I'm off Tuesday and Wednesday, and I like to do a bit of baking on one of those days- cake, or bread, or biscuits, or cui-miam-miam as it was last week. We have a gas oven, and the fact that we have to pay for our gas directly through a meter in one of the kitchen cupboards (seriously, I didn't know those things still existed until I moved here) means I feel guilty about putting the oven on with less than three different things in it.

I also have some exciting and under-used baking toys (thanks to Lauren for the first, Madeline for the second) I want to get more use out of.

Last week, I made chocolate and Nutella fairy cakes. This week, I'm thinking lemon drizzle cake. I'm after some new ideas to try, though, and this is where you lot come in- any suggestions? Challenges? Bizarre ingredients I should try and incorporate?

Friday 18 June 2010

Cui Miam Miam

Tonight, we're having people over for dinner, Breton-style.

Ze Boy and I have been thinking about galettes for a couple of weeks now, and, as usual with this kind of thing, we'll only be able to get the idea out of our heads once we've eaten them. Alas, I couldn't find buckwheat flour in Tesco, but I have brown flour, so that'll just have to do. A friend of ours has stealthily imported some proper cider (none of this strongbow nonsense, thank you very much!), so the thing is going to be Done Properly.

For pudding, I must admit to having found inspiration in an Oldelaf et Monsieur D song. After trawling the internet for a recipe (and trying to work out how to spell the damn thing, Google doesn't work if none of the letters in the words match up), I finally found a trustworthy one on a friend's blog. The thing I've made goes by the somewhat unpronouncable name of Kouign Amann, or, to use Ze Boy's version of it, Cui Miam Miam. Actually, he informs me that it's meant to be spelt "couie miam miam", but that sounds a bit too much like something extremely vulgar, so I've gone for the Cui version. In any case, a kouign amann by any other name would still have as much butter in it. Om nom nom.

Back to the cupboard now to hide until our guests arrive.

Wednesday 16 June 2010

Woof!

I've been slightly preoccupied with trying to lose my accent in French of late. I can sometimes fool people for a little while, depending on how observant they are or what we're talking about- there are a few words, not necessarily the obvious ones ("feuille" and "bouilloire"? No problem) that give the game away.

Sometimes, though, people spot something, but can't quite put their finger on what it is. My accent in French doesn't conform to expectations of how an English person would speak French.

Cue comment from a lady in the supermarket where I worked over Christmas:

"Vous êtes Alsacienne, Madame ?"

Literal translation: "Are you an Alsatian?"
Proper translation: "Are you from Alsace?"

Makes me smile every time.

Oh, and incidentally- this is why you should never, never, never, ever use online translation sites. Leave it to the professionals!

Back to the cupboard now to scratch behind my ears and chew a few shoes. Might go and scare a few small children by pretending to be the Big Bad Wolf later, too.

Saturday 12 June 2010

Ties, Damned Ties and Statistics

It's May Ball time in Cambridge at the moment. Why exactly the May Balls are in June is beyond me- surely, with the average intelligence of the Cambridge student population, they could get the name of the month right? Not complaining, though. I like the peculiarities.

The shop I work in has been around for over 120 years and was, for much of its history, a gentlemen's outfitters. A lot of the original shop-fittings are still there- notably a wall of glass-fronted cabinets with brass fittings and pull-out trays full of ties.

This week, with the approach of the May Balls, we've been selling an Awful Lot of Ties. Bow ties, in particular, seem to be doing pretty well this year- I'm not sure if it's something to do with the fact that the new Dr Who wears one, or if the latter is a symptom of the growing popularity of bow ties rather than a cause. I favour the latter theory, I think.

I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this. I got fed up with running up and downstairs for ties yesterday and the phrase "ties, damned ties and statistics" popped into my head, and I just felt the need to use it somewhere.

That's all.

Back to the cupboard now, if it hasn't been invaded by rogue neckwear.

Monday 7 June 2010

Madwoman in the Attic

I haven't been around here much since I started my new job, but I have resolved to change that.

Today, I spent the day in the attic at work putting stickers on tags and tags on hoodies. Ah yes. For reasons unknown, a tag is no longer enough. We need TAGS WITH STICKERS ON, d'you hear? TAGS WITH STICKERS ON.

Last time I spent a day in the attic, it was so mind-numbing that I could actually hear my brain cells screaming for mercy after the first half hour. This time, though, I came prepared: an MP3 player full of variété française and Radio 4 podcasts.

There was a wonderful moment, mid-afternoon, when I encountered the past historic tense in a song I was listening too (amis français: c'était eûmes et la chanson était de Brel. J'envoie un Mars au premier qui arrive a me dire le titre de la chanson en question...). It was unexpected, and it made me smile. It also triggered a domino-effect of smiles that lasted all afternoon. Will any of the tourists buying our hoodies ever suspect what the shop girl was thinking about as she stuck labels on the tags? What would they think if they knew?

Having done my fair share of menial jobs over the past few years, I've developed a taste for the bizarre conjunction of practical and mental occupations. The summer after my A Levels, for example, I worked in a fish and chip shop and practiced declining Latin nouns on the edges of the newspaper when the shop was quiet. The following summer, I cleaned toilets whilst listening to Classic FM.

It all boils down to an attempt to maintain a certain degree of sanity, although my colleagues tend to see it as proof of the opposite: for them, I have become the madwoman in the attic. Long may it continue.