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The Toybox

people for the conservation of limited amounts of indignation


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mumble mumble mumble
children of dune - leto 1
seperis
There is this moment. This--epiphany, if you will. This occurs around, say, one o'clock, six clients in line, four of which do not speak Spanish, and you're...

You're FLIRTING with Juan the Translator Guy (name changed to protect the innocent) on the phone while Non-English Speaking client fills out a Change of Address form.

And you realize, this, *this* is the extent of your social life.

Juan the Translator Guy: Busy today?
Jenn the Pathetic: Pretty much, yeah. Oh, she's done. Could you tell her that I need verification or have her mail it in?
Juan: Sure, Jenn.
*pause*
Jenn: Next person in line.
Juan: Lots of people?
Jenn: Like you wouldn't believe. We're changing computer software, you know.
Juan: You said something about that.
*jenn realizes that life is going surreal when one's translator remembers these things*
Jenn: My weekend is going to suck again.
Juan: Your boyfriend must be very understanding.
Jenn: The box shaped one on my desk? He has his bitter moments.
*client makes noise about an appointment.*
Jenn: La cita in el correo, si? Gracias.
Juan: Your Spanish is getting better.
Jenn: I'm sure that's why they all laugh when I talk to them.
Juan: You won't need us at all soon!
Jenn: *very dramatic* Trust me, Juan, I'll always need you.

There's a kind of horror that comes about when you are calling a translation line enough to get vaguely familiar with three of the translators. There are two others that I use enough to recognize. And that you are flirting with one. Because that moment? THAT moment you realize if the world ended tomorrow? It could only be making your life better.

Did I mention I had my work computer playing "goodbye to you" in the background? I am almost a cliche. Of what, I have no idea. But there it is.

*sighs* This would scare me more if I wasn't hypped up on McDonalds, M&Ms, and enough junk food to sink a small ship.

R-read Lanning's latest. Still want to have her babies. Also, want to have her CLex on Smallville, but I almost want to say it's more likely Lannig will agree to the baby thing first.

Updated Rules and Procedures for the_treasury are being posted tonight when I'm done with this entry, along with the very slightly revised timeline, which has moved by about twenty four hours when I realized I would not be getting a Saturday off until around the apocalypse or my own unplanned death.

And the freakiest part? I am in a disgustingly good mood. Seriously. I have English muffins and bought Child some Spiderman shoes.

Okay, now it's official. I *have* no life. I need multiple cats now. As I have a bad, bad feeling that is my destiny.

I shall name them all Charles, just for the hell of it.


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bilingual flirting! Go you! *g*

I had a smiliar epiphany when I told the kid at the movie theater last week he looked like "that cut kid on Everwood." Gah.

How...scary.

Jenn: Quiero tus pollos, senor.

Juan: You want my chickens?

Becuase that above? Very much how it would go.

Though if he has a chicken fetish, hell, I could totally take this to an entirely new level.

LOL! Yeah. I speak a fair amount of spanish, but some accents just leave me in the dust. My colloquial spanish is bad. My accent is pretty good, but it's South American/private school, closer to Ecuadorian or Columbian than most dialects of Mexican. So, sometimes I'll have conversations where I understand the other person almost perfectly and vice versa, and sometimes I'll have conversations where they don't understand me, I don't understand them, but in theory, we're both speaking the same language. It's the connotations that mess me up. I'll be talking about Sprite or I'll think they're talking about soda and we're really having a conversation about liquor. Perhaps it's like comparing Scottish to Texan accents. Just very different. I do understand the Spain/Spanish lisping fairly well though, one of my high school teachers had that accent. And don't get me started on the Vos/Tu/Usted problem. One of my teachers launched into a big explaination of why they don't use the Usted form in Spain. It's a bastardization of Vuestra Merced, which is an honorific, and was used in the colonies but not in Spain (at least in everyday usage). So, if you walk into spain and start using this one verb form, it's like walking around using the royal "his magesty" (sort of), but if you do in N. America, it's just being polite. These things happen when several million people in lots of different countries speak the same language, I suppose.
-Silverkyst

I realized I would not be getting a Saturday off until around the apocalypse or my own unplanned death.

I'm confused - does this mean if your death is planned, you can get a Saturday off? See, what I'm thinking is this: go ahead and plan your own death, don't bother to carry out said plan, and then take the day. Major loophole, here....

*frowns* I could be overthinking this.

Ooh. Loophole.

No, wait. I'm not allowd to take leave yet--we're all restricted from doing so until the new system is online. So it would HAVE to be unplanned and compeltely spontaneous.

Though I do like how you think....

Trust me, flirting with the insurance agent on the phone is worse. I need to get out. *whimper*
-Silverkyst

*pets* We're all doomed, chica. Doomed, I tell you!

Hmm. I wonder if I give good voice or something....

I can hardly wait for when you get to report on your new computer system, as well as developments on the international front.

*snickers* The conversation should be hot enough to melt--um. Butter? Already melted things?

Dear God, I am a scarily boring person. I need cats. I need LOTS of cats.

Flirting gets you in trouble. I was at my part time job at the movie theater and found myself flirting this cute tall well built cutie, who came in to buy a ticket for Finding Nemo. He came in alone, wasn't meeting anyone because he was too macho to admit to anyone that he had a thing for Pixar movies. His exact words, that came with this really cute blush. We had a very enjoyable flirtation and I thought nothing at the fact that he knew my name because of the stupid name tag they make us wear. Then at the end of our conversation he said "I'll tell Sarah-lee you said hi" Brain process goes like this.

Sarah-lee?
I don't know anyone by that name.
Oh wait Sarah. From High School dumb ass. Your best friend? I used to call her that all the time.
Yeah....
How does he know Sarah?
How did he know that nickname?
Wait someone else used to call her that.
Yeah her little brother picked it up from me. He used to do it to piss her off.
Wait.....
(mentally bring up picture of said brother and compare to hot cutie)
Oh SHIT!!! I've been flirting with...ahhhhhhh!!!!

Ahhhhh Major Squick. That little pudgy kid who was such an annoyance grew up into a tall bona fide hottie, who I'd like to point out really really really doesn't look 15. And I have a good eight years on him and he's jail bait. God I need to get out more.

Oh dear GOD!

*dies laughing on the floor* You're kidding! *blinks* I--that is SO cool. In a frightening way, of course, but still! Think of the anecdotes you can tell at parties!

*g*

*loves you* This totally made my day. I was giggling through work. You know, until I remembered all of my high school friends' little brothers and beginning to wonder what will happen if I run into them now.

*shivers*

Oh dear.

Yep. I'm going to best friend hell for that one. The sad part is I had lunch with Sarah-lee and another friend from high school a few days ago. Believe me they wouldn't let me live it down :)

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