I never read junk mail. I mean what’s the point? But this time I read it, and it kept me wondering who writes all this stuff. Is that something you can put on your CV? Hi. My name is So-and-So and I am a professional junk mail writer. Simply amazing. Read this (I got it in my hotmail.com account. I’ve replaced some proper names with “*”):
FROM MISS L**** A**
A****** I**** C****
I AM MISS L**** A** FROM IVORY COAST AND I AM CONTACTING YOU BECAUSE I NEED YOUR HELP IN THE MANAGEMENT OF A SUM OF MONEY THAT MY DEAD FATHER LEFT FOR ME BEFORE HE DIED.THIS MONEY IN QUESTION IS USD 7.5 MILLION AMERICAN DOLLARS AND THE MONEY IS IN A BANK HERE IN A****** WHERE I AM LIVING WITH MY ONLY BROTHER.
MY FATHER WAS A VERY WEALTHY COCOA FARMER AND HE WAS POISOINED BY HIS BUSINESS COLLEAGUES AND NOW I WANT YOU TO STAND AS MY GUIDIAN AND MY APPOINTED BENEFICIARY AND RECEIVE THE MONEY IN YOUR COUNTRY SINCE I AM 21 YEARS AND WITHOUT MOTHER OR FATHER.
PLEASE I WILL LIKE YOU TO REPLY TO THIS EMAILSO THAT I WILL GIVE YOU ALL THE NECESSARY INFORMATION SO THAT THIS MONEY WILL BE TRANSFERRED TO YOU SO THAT YOU WILL GET ME TRAVEL DOCUMENTS TO COME OVER TO YOUR COUNTRY TO CONTINUE MY EDUCATION THERE.
I AM WAITING FOR YOUR URGENT EMAIL RESPONSE.
THANKS AND GOD BLESS YOU AND YOUR FAMILY.
MISS L**** A**
I feel like e-mailing her back! >;-P
So I was thinking today.
As it is a matter of common knowledge it is the midsummer today. Another piece of wisdom is that during my whole life I have only experienced a couple of midsummer days with no rain or a single drunk person in town.
As I was sitting in the bus number twenty-one on my way home today, I noticed several cars full of stuff and families and relatives and friends going in the direction of Jugla, Sigulda, Cesis, Valmiera – well, you get the picture.
What made me think were my speculations about what goes on in people’s mind before the midsummer:
OK. So yesterday we bought a squillion liters of beer and a zillion kilos of cheese. Today we’ll pack a lot of stuff into our car, take all our family and friends and drive out of Riga and drink till we don’t remember our names.
But we are smart. So we don’t feel hangover the next morning, we are not going to stop drinking or go to bed. We will rather start a fire and try and jump over it, so we don’t fall asleep. So, the next day will probably look the same. And the following one, as well.
I’m glad it’s been raining.
The four days I spent in Stockholm were nice.
You know, nice as in “Yeah, nice!” when you have enjoyed something, but looking back, you think you would be better off doing something else.
On Monday I went to Stockholm to take part in the training for my new job in Riga, to write a test and upon passing it, actually get the job. The training course that theoretically lasted three-and-a-half days was in fact about two days in total. Most of time I spent watching FIFA World Cup in my tiny hotel room in the center of Stockholm and occasionally going out to get some food at the nearest Seven Eleven or some kebab place.
The test I wrote this morning was not as hard as it could be to fail me. I answered 40 questions. All correct. Which means I have gotten the job, which has to do with talking on the phone with the Swedish handicaps needing a taxi in Stockholm. Monotonous and intense, the job is something I enjoy doing – helping people and using my Swedish.
“Thank you for your attention” were the hardest five words I have ever had to lie.
Today I became the pompous- and bureaucratic-sounding Bachelor of Arts in English Philology. The never-changing still-soviet system of “defending” your work works very well I should say. In order to get a certificate that I have completed the four years of pure academically theoretical and mosty boring classes, I was to stand before the exhausted and indifferent audience of 12 students and the ignorant and disrespectful to my presentation “Honourable Board” consisting of about five or six professors.
Don’t get me wrong – I did get my “A-” (80%), which was exactly what I deserved for my speech. My indignation about the whole defense system was probably fueled by the topic of my “academic research” – Stig Dagerman was far from the obedient and subordinate to the System citizen type of person.
In any case, I am officially undergraduate now. I wish my title, BA, secured me a life without worries, which it does not. And I am grateful it doesn’t. Because I am reminded yet another time that my future can only be secure in the One keeping an eye on it.
It’s been exactly three days since I left my school in Sweden.
And I have been missing it like crazy. Actually the whole feeling of being at home, when everything around is so unlike what you got used to, is so weird. I mean Hjo became a second home to me, even though I considered it home only for the last several weeks of my stay there.
Today was a special day for many. Countless newspaper articles about the Anti-christ and the number of the beast reminded me that there indeed is a world unseen to a human eye. But it wasn’t only the scary “Zero Six, Zero Six, Zero Six” day. June 6 is celebrated in Sweden as a national day. Of course, it is not called the day of Independence, because the country has always been independent.
This week is a week of preparation for me. On Monday I am giving the presentation of my BA paper, which I wrote while in Sweden. Hope everything goes well there. I also need to write and send my CV to several places. I also need to meet with several people I haven’t seen for a very long time. I also need to go see a doctor, because my cough has been bugging me for the past three or four weeks, which makes me think it is not at all a usual cold I caught. And I have no clue where I am going to find time to do all of that.