I’ve become somewhat of a master of the English language at my job. I told my colleagues that I feel pretty important that more than 3 times a day they NEED my English expertise while crafting emails, creating job descriptions, writing post its, updating facebook, you know critical business communication pieces. I have chosen to ignore the glaring fact that my English skills are just slightly better because I happened to be born in an English speaking country. Let’s face it, I worked hard the last 29 years to be proficient in only my mother tongue. So I’ll continue to be the ‘go to’ for knowing when to use bear or bare. Or that women don’t ‘get a baby’ they have a baby. And the common mistake of ‘making a picture’ instead of taking a picture. The scary part is that I also give grammar advice…and I can say whatever I want. No ones going to call bull shit. So I take my English role seriously. To keep up pretences, I throw in difficult vocabulary during daily conversations like loquacious and juxtaposition. Luckily, I don’t have to use them correctly so I can play around with just about any word I remember from English literature.
Photos from Utrecht on a Sunday afternoon: