Dissolved & Golden Gaytimes

Have you ever thought about all the things you have to think about when you're driving? No? I suggest you try not to :-)

I had my first driving lesson the other day. On the wrong side of the road. In a manual car. Yeah. Do you need me to say how I dissolved into tears in just under 10 minutes? Or that it was one of the most overwhelming experiences I've ever had? Didn't think so. But really...there is so much to think about - where the car is around you, for starters. And what to do at a roundabout (which even spin the opposite way from our roundabouts). And how far you have to be from that car on your LEFT side, which is NOT the side you are sitting on, in order not to hit it when it's parked in the middle of the road (and this, this is the instant that I melted in).

But we'll try again. I've been practicing in Jen's car (Toff's mum) which is automatic. And when I get the hang of that I'll move onto driving Toff's sister Stephi's car, which is a manual, but at least it's a really small one. And when I get the hang of that I'll move onto our van. Which I love dearly!

I don't think I ever felt so much love for an automotive. It doesn't have a name yet, but we feel that, since we're going to be spending so much time with him/her we really need to get to know him/her before we decide on a name :) But we are going to paint the outside all up, and hang fabric on the inside, and put a mattress in the back. And hopefully we'll even have room for a scooter!

In other news. Work is going well! I worked 28 hours last week, and this week I'm working 42...so I guess I'm doing something right. My only trouble arises when I don't understand what a person is trying to say to me. Here is an example: a little girl asked me for something that sounded like "hold and breyton" yes. I recognize that's not really english so much as an conglomeration of vaugely english words...but that's what it sounded like she was saying! So, after going into the kitchen and mumbling something about little girls, and how I still had no idea what she wanted, a fellow worker says "Oh! Her ice cream! I forgot it!" A ha! Now we're getting somewhere. But he couldn't remember what she ordered, so I just grabbed a chocolate bar from the freezer and headed out to what was a rather dissappointed 9 year old, who I inevitably dissappointed further. Because a chocolate bar is not what she ordered. So her mom pulls out the kids menu, and over her shoulder I see her pointing to something called a "Golden Gaytime." The little girl wanted an ice cream called a golden gaytime for heavens sake! So I returned to the kitchen, and triumphantly returned with a gold-en-gay-time. goldengaytime people! What other country would even have something with a name like that?! oooh Australia.

Other language barrier incidences involve a 5 min conversation between me and an old bloke who wanted a draft. So I repeated all 8 of the draft beers we had at least twice, while he just kept repeating that he just wanted a draft ...until I figured out that we have a beer called "west end draught." oops. All I can say is thank goodness I have an accent. Otherwise people would start to wonder about the quality of staff they're hiring at the victory...

Cheers!

Cara