For the next five months, the five gentlemen you see below will be my life for three full weeks and the occasional weekend. They all have strong personalities and opinions, and you've probably figured that I'm no shrinking violet myself. In fact, the boys seem to think I'm kind of scary. Especially when I get quiet and scowly because I'm thinking. Or because I'm frustrated that I'm making dumb mistakes, so I berate myself and give a mental spanking but people assume I'm mad at them because I'm not myself. One of the problems with being a chatty, outgoing personality is that people freak out when I'm not what they're expecting.
They hold the door for me and help me carry things, which is nice. And most importantly, they're not dismissive of my ideas, though we've all got some learning to do about listening when others speak. I believe I originally said I thought they'd be gentlemanly enough not to get all lads-mag on me, which is true. But they do like their innuendo (much of which is lost on me until it's noticeable I haven't caught on,) and I think that British men have more ways to call someone a "dick" than eskimos have to say snow. (Today I learned the phrase "bell end" or something like that. Yesterday there was talk of the phrase "semi by the sea" in that annoying James Blunt song, and of course I thought they were talking about condos or something.) This is going to annoy me, mostly because I hate it when people figure out what a Charlotte I am.
We'll see how the term progresses. Tomorrow will be telling on the teamwork front, as we have about six hours of warehouse building ahead of us. Did I say pleh? For now, here they are, my Pips, my Homeboys, me Julies...Meet Blue 7.