<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412</id><updated>2011-07-07T16:46:07.774-07:00</updated><category term='facultate'/><category term='BAC'/><category term='shiny coins'/><category term='ghetto'/><category term='CCCU'/><category term='educatie'/><title type='text'>Crista's British experience</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-6204469757194227329</id><published>2009-12-16T08:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T09:24:04.669-08:00</updated><title type='text'>McDreamy</title><content type='html'>I missed this. I missed me in this position. The one of the storyteller. The writing therapy. The soft smile that comes out of an unspoken thought.&lt;br /&gt;To say the truth the past months have been like a montagne russe. Less the ups and more the downs. And today, it all got fixed. I mean not completely fixed but compensated. By what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Christmas was the worst of my life. I remember reading Fowles's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Collector&lt;/span&gt;, and I remember feeling worst than Miranda, at the same time desperately wanting her company. The shared desire for culture, beauty and family were only a few things that bonded us throughout my reading trip.&lt;br /&gt;This Christmas is going to be different. I have snow and not only. And snow fixes everything and everyone. This seems very superficial and naive but it does. Same as I truly believe in Santa Clause. I mean I know there isn't actually a chubby individual dressed in red that comes down the chimney every year in December, however I do believe that everything changes for those 2 days. Everyone slows down and even for one second they have a good thought for someone else. Imagine the whole world having good thoughts about others at approximately the same time. It can't get closer to heaven really...&lt;br /&gt;Today I quit my job. And I left there all the bad things that have happened. I usually don't run away from trouble but this time, I have to. The funny thing is that all the compassion comes out in the end. You never hear good things until you leave. And people always leave. I love everyone in that shop. Even the the Tiger Woods and Entrapment kind of Sean Connery. I'm going to miss all that drama.&lt;br /&gt;The only way to get rid of old drama is to replace it with new drama. Now I have to find a new job, sort all my university workload out and try and balance things out. It's a good plan that has no proper foundation that would probably change in the next 5 minutes. But all good things come out of spur of the moment situations so I am intrigued and hopeful.&lt;br /&gt;Right now Canterbury reminds me of Alecsandri's Winter (Vasile to be more specific). I remember learning that poem by heart back when I was 7 years old. I wish I had inherited my grandfathers' writing skills so that I can translate it, but I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So google it!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-6204469757194227329?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/6204469757194227329/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=6204469757194227329' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/6204469757194227329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/6204469757194227329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2009/12/mcdreamy.html' title='McDreamy'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-5618493256540122283</id><published>2009-10-23T14:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T14:24:54.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>1 % part of Crista</title><content type='html'>&lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;THE LITTLE FLORENTINE SCRIBE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;{Monthly Story.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was in the fourth elementary class. He was a&lt;br /&gt;graceful Florentine lad of twelve, with black hair and&lt;img id="optionsTriangle" src="img/triangle_ltr.gif" onclick="togglePostOptions()" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;a white face, the eldest son of an employee on the rail-&lt;br /&gt;way, who, having a large family and but small pa}', lived&lt;br /&gt;in straitened circumstances. His father loved him and&lt;br /&gt;was tolerably kind and indulgent to him — indulgent in&lt;br /&gt;everything except in that which referred to school : on&lt;br /&gt;this point he required a great deal, and showed himself&lt;br /&gt;severe, because his son was obliged to attain such a&lt;br /&gt;rank as would enable him to soon obtain a place and&lt;br /&gt;help his family ; and in order to accomplish anything&lt;br /&gt;quickly, it was necessary that he should work a great&lt;br /&gt;deal in a very short time. And although the lad stud-&lt;br /&gt;ied, his father was always exhorting him to study more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His father was advanced in years, and too much toil&lt;br /&gt;had aged him before his time. Nevertheless, in order&lt;br /&gt;to provide for the necessities of his family, in addition&lt;br /&gt;to the toil which his occupation imposed upon him, he&lt;br /&gt;obtained special work here and there as a copyist, and&lt;br /&gt;passed a good part of the night at his writing-table.&lt;br /&gt;Lately, he had undertaken, in behalf of a house which&lt;br /&gt;published journals and books in parts, to write upon&lt;br /&gt;the parcels the names and addresses of their subscrib-&lt;br /&gt;ers, and he earned three lire l for every five hundred&lt;br /&gt;of these paper wrappers, written in large and regular&lt;br /&gt;characters. But this work wearied him, and he often&lt;br /&gt;complained of it to his family at dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My eyes are giving out," he said ; " this night work&lt;br /&gt;is killing me." One day his soil said to him, " Let me&lt;br /&gt;work instead of you, papa ; you know that I can write&lt;br /&gt;like you, and fairly well." But the father answered : —&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, my son, you must study; your school is a&lt;br /&gt;much more important thing than my wrappers ; I feel&lt;br /&gt;remorse at robbing you of a single hour ; I thank you,&lt;br /&gt;but I will not have it ; do not mention it to me again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The son knew that it was useless to insist on such a&lt;br /&gt;matter with his father, and he did not persist ; but this&lt;br /&gt;is what he did. He knew that exactly at midnight his&lt;br /&gt;father stopped writing, and quitted his workroom to go&lt;br /&gt;to his bedroom ; he had heard him several times : as&lt;br /&gt;soon as the twelve strokes of the clock had sounded, he&lt;br /&gt;had heard the sound of a chair drawn back, and the&lt;br /&gt;slow step of his father. One night he waited until the&lt;br /&gt;latter was in bed, then dressed himself very, very&lt;br /&gt;softly, and felt his way to the little workroom, lighted&lt;br /&gt;the petroleum lamp again, seated himself at the writing-&lt;br /&gt;table, where lay a pile of white wrappers and the list of&lt;br /&gt;addresses, and began to write, imitating exactly his&lt;br /&gt;father's handwriting. And he wrote with a will, gladly,&lt;br /&gt;a little in fear, and the wrappers piled up, and from&lt;br /&gt;time to time he dropped the pen to rub his hands, and&lt;br /&gt;then began again with increased alacrity, listening and&lt;br /&gt;smiling. He wrote a hundred and sixty — one Ural&lt;br /&gt;Then he stopped, placed the pen where he had found it,&lt;br /&gt;extinguished the light, and went back to bed on tiptoe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At noon that day his father sat down to the table in&lt;br /&gt;a good humor. He had perceived nothing. He per-&lt;br /&gt;formed the work mechanically, measuring it by the&lt;br /&gt;hour, and thinking of something else, and only counted&lt;br /&gt;the wrappers he had written on the following day. He&lt;br /&gt;seated himself at the table in a fine humor, and slapping&lt;br /&gt;his son on one shoulder, he said to him : —&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Eh, Giulio ! Your father is even a better workman&lt;br /&gt;than you thought. In two hours I did a good third&lt;br /&gt;more work than usual last night. M3 7 hand is still&lt;br /&gt;nimble, and my eyes still do their duty." And Giulio,&lt;br /&gt;silent but content, said to himself, "Poor daddy,&lt;br /&gt;besides the money, I am o-ivmg him some satisfaction&lt;br /&gt;in the thought that he has grown young again. Well,&lt;br /&gt;courage ! "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Encouraged by these good results, when night came&lt;br /&gt;and twelve o'clock struck, he rose once more, and set&lt;br /&gt;to work. And this he did for several nights. And his&lt;br /&gt;father noticed nothing ; only once, at supper, he uttered&lt;br /&gt;this exclamation, "It is strange how much oil has been&lt;br /&gt;used in this house lately ! " This was a shock to&lt;br /&gt;Giulio ; but the conversation ceased there, and the&lt;br /&gt;nocturnal labor proceeded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, by dint of thus breaking his sleep every&lt;br /&gt;night, Giulio did not get sufficient rest : he rose in the&lt;br /&gt;morning fatigued, and when he was doing his school&lt;br /&gt;work in the evening, he had difficulty in keeping his&lt;br /&gt;eyes open. One evening, for the first time in his life,&lt;br /&gt;he fell asleep over his copy-book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Courage ! courage ! " cried his father, clapping his&lt;br /&gt;hands ; " to work ! "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He shook himself and set to work again. But the&lt;br /&gt;next evening, and on the days following, the same thing&lt;br /&gt;occurred, and worse : he dozed over his books, he rose&lt;br /&gt;later than usual, he studied his lessons in a languid&lt;br /&gt;wav, he seemed disgusted with study. His father&lt;br /&gt;began to observe him, then to reflect seriously, and at&lt;br /&gt;last to reprove him. He should never have done it !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Giulio," he said to him one morning, " you put me&lt;br /&gt;quite beside myself ; you are no longer as you used to&lt;br /&gt;be. I don't like it. Take care ; all the hopes of } T our&lt;br /&gt;family rest on you. I am dissatisfied ; do you under-&lt;br /&gt;stand?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this reproof, the first severe one, in truth, which&lt;br /&gt;he had ever received, the boy grew troubled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Yes," he said to himself, " it is true ; it cannot go&lt;br /&gt;on so ; this deceit must come to an end."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at dinner, on the evening of that very same day,&lt;br /&gt;his father said with much cheerfulness, " Do you know&lt;br /&gt;that this month I have earned thirty-two lire more at&lt;br /&gt;addressing those wrappers than last month ! " and so&lt;br /&gt;saying, he drew from under the table a paper package&lt;br /&gt;of sweets which he had bought, that he might celebrate&lt;br /&gt;with his children this extraordinary profit, and they all&lt;br /&gt;hailed it with clapping of hands. Then Giulio took&lt;br /&gt;heart again, courage again, and said in his heart, " No,&lt;br /&gt;poor papa, I will not cease to deceive you ; I will make&lt;br /&gt;greater efforts to work during the day, but I shall con-&lt;br /&gt;tinue to work at night for you and for the rest." And&lt;br /&gt;his father added, " Thirtv-two lire more ! I am satis-&lt;br /&gt;fied. But that boy there," pointing at Giulio, " is the&lt;br /&gt;one who displeases me." And Giulio received the&lt;br /&gt;reprimand in silence, forcing back two tears which tried&lt;br /&gt;to flow ; but at the same time he felt a great pleasure&lt;br /&gt;in his heart.&lt;br /&gt;And he continued to work by main force ; but fatigue&lt;br /&gt;added to fatigue rendered it ever more difficult for him&lt;br /&gt;to resist. Thus things went on for two months. The&lt;br /&gt;father continued to reproach his son, and to gaze at&lt;br /&gt;him with eyes which grew constantly more wrathful.&lt;br /&gt;One day he went to make inquiries of the teacher, and&lt;br /&gt;the teacher said to him : " Yes, he gets along, he gets&lt;br /&gt;along, because he is intelligent ; but he no longer has&lt;br /&gt;the good will which he had at first. He is drowsy, he&lt;br /&gt;yawns, his mind is distracted. He writes short compo-&lt;br /&gt;sitions, scribbled down in all haste, in bad chirography.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, he could do a great deal, a great deal more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening the father took the son aside, and&lt;br /&gt;.spoke to him words which were graver than any the&lt;br /&gt;latter had ever heard. " Giulio, you see how I toil,&lt;br /&gt;how I am wearing out my life, for the family. You do&lt;br /&gt;not second my efforts. You have no heart for me, nor&lt;br /&gt;for your brothers, nor for your mother ! "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah no! don't sav that, father!" cried the son,&lt;br /&gt;bursting into tears, and opening his mouth to confess&lt;br /&gt;all. But his father interrupted him, saying : —&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" You are aware of the condition of the family ; } r ou&lt;br /&gt;know that good will and sacrifices on the part of all&lt;br /&gt;are necessarv. I mvself, as vou see, have had to&lt;br /&gt;double my work. I counted on a gift of a hundred lire&lt;br /&gt;from the railway company this month, and this morning&lt;br /&gt;I have learned that I shall receive nothing ! "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this information, Giulio repressed the confession&lt;br /&gt;which was on the point of escaping from his soul, and&lt;br /&gt;repeated resolutely to himself : " No, papa, I shall tell&lt;br /&gt;you nothing ; I shall guard my secret for the sake of&lt;br /&gt;being able to work for you ; I will recompense you in&lt;br /&gt;another way for the sorrow which I occasion you ; I&lt;br /&gt;will study enough at school to win promotion ; the im-&lt;br /&gt;portant point is to help you to earn our living, and to&lt;br /&gt;relieve you of the fatigue which is killing you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so he went on, and two months more passed, of&lt;br /&gt;labor by night and weakness by da} 7 , of desperate&lt;br /&gt;efforts on the part of the son, and of bitter reproaches&lt;br /&gt;on the part of the father. But the worst of it was,&lt;br /&gt;that the latter grew gradually colder towards the boy,&lt;br /&gt;only addressed him rarely, as though he had been a&lt;br /&gt;recreant son, of whom there was nothing any longer to&lt;br /&gt;be expected, and almost avoided meeting his glance.&lt;br /&gt;And Giulio perceived this and suffered from it, and&lt;br /&gt;when his father's back was turned, he threw him a fur-&lt;br /&gt;tive kiss, stretching forth his face with a sentiment of&lt;br /&gt;sad and dutiful tenderness ; and between sorrow and&lt;br /&gt;fatigue, he grew thin and pale, and he was constrained&lt;br /&gt;to still further neglect his studies. And he understood&lt;br /&gt;well that there must be an end to it some day, and&lt;br /&gt;every evening he said to himself, "I will not get up&lt;br /&gt;to-night"; but when the clock struck twelve, at the&lt;br /&gt;moment when he should have vigorously reaffirmed his&lt;br /&gt;resolution, he felt remorse : it seemed to him, that by&lt;br /&gt;remaining in bed he should be failing in a duty, and&lt;br /&gt;robbing his father and the family of a lira. And he&lt;br /&gt;rose, thinking; that some night his father would wake&lt;br /&gt;up and discover him, or that he would discover the&lt;br /&gt;deception b}' accident, by counting the wrappers twice ;&lt;br /&gt;and then all would come to a natural end, without any&lt;br /&gt;act of his will, which he did not feel the courage to&lt;br /&gt;exert. And thus he went on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But one evening at dinner his father spoke a word&lt;br /&gt;which was decisive so far as he was concerned. His&lt;br /&gt;mother looked at him, and as it seemed to her that he&lt;br /&gt;was more ill and weak than usual, she said to him,&lt;br /&gt;" Giulio, you are ill." And then, turning to his father,&lt;br /&gt;with anxiety: " Giulio is ill. See how pale be is 1&lt;br /&gt;Giulio, my dear, how do you feel? "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His father gave a hasty glance, and said : " It is his&lt;br /&gt;bad conscience that produces his bad health. He was&lt;br /&gt;not thus when he was a studious scholar and a loving&lt;br /&gt;son."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" But he is ill ! " exclaimed the mother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I don't care anything about him an}* longer ! *'&lt;br /&gt;replied the father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This remark was like a stab in the heart to the poor&lt;br /&gt;bov. Ah ! he cared nothing anv more. His father, who&lt;br /&gt;once trembled at the mere sound of a cough from him !&lt;br /&gt;He no longer loved him ; there was no longer any doubt ;&lt;br /&gt;he was dead in his father's heart. "Ah, no ! my father,"&lt;br /&gt;said the boy to himself, his heart oppressed with anguish,&lt;br /&gt;- ' now all is over indeed ; I cannot live without your&lt;br /&gt;affection ; I must have it all back. I will tell you all ;&lt;br /&gt;I will deceive you no longer. I will study as of old,&lt;br /&gt;come what will, if you will only love me once more,&lt;br /&gt;my poor father ! Oh, this time I am quite sure of my&lt;br /&gt;resolution ! "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nevertheless he rose that night again, by force of&lt;br /&gt;habit more than anything else ; and when he was once&lt;br /&gt;up, he wanted to go and salute and see once more, for&lt;br /&gt;the last time, in the quiet of the night, that little&lt;br /&gt;chamber where he toiled so much in secret with his&lt;br /&gt;heart full of satisfaction and tenderness. And when he&lt;br /&gt;beheld again that little table with the lamp lighted and&lt;br /&gt;those white wrappers on which he was never more to&lt;br /&gt;write those names of towns and persons, which he had&lt;br /&gt;come to know by heart, he was seized with a great&lt;br /&gt;sadness, and with an impetuous movement he grasped&lt;br /&gt;the pen to recommence his accustomed toil. But in&lt;br /&gt;reaching out his hand he struck a book, and the book&lt;br /&gt;fell. The blood rushed to his heart. What if his father&lt;br /&gt;had waked ! Certainly he would not have discovered&lt;br /&gt;him in the commission of a bad deed : he had himself&lt;br /&gt;decided to tell him all, and vet — the sound of that&lt;br /&gt;step approaching in the darkness, — the discovery at&lt;br /&gt;that hour, in that silence, — his mother, who would be&lt;br /&gt;awakened and alarmed, — and the thought, which had&lt;br /&gt;occurred to him for the first time, that his father might&lt;br /&gt;feel humiliated in his presence on thus discovering&lt;br /&gt;all; — all this terrified him almost. He bent his ear,&lt;br /&gt;with suspended breath. He heard no sound. He&lt;br /&gt;laid his ear to the lock of the door behind him — •&lt;br /&gt;nothing. The whole house was asleep. His father&lt;br /&gt;had not heard. He recovered his composure, and he&lt;br /&gt;set himself again to his writing, and wrapper was piled&lt;br /&gt;on wrapper. He heard the regular tread of the police-&lt;br /&gt;man below in the deserted street ; then the rumble of a&lt;br /&gt;carriage which gradually died away ; then, after an&lt;br /&gt;interval, the rattle of a file of carts, which passed&lt;br /&gt;slowly by ; then a profound silence, broken from time&lt;br /&gt;to time by the distant barking of a dog. And he wrote&lt;br /&gt;on and on : and meanwhile his father was behind him.&lt;br /&gt;He had risen on hearing the fall of the book, and had&lt;br /&gt;remained waiting for a long time : the rattle of the&lt;br /&gt;carts had drowned the noise of his footsteps and the&lt;br /&gt;creaking of the door-casing ; and he was there, with his&lt;br /&gt;white head bent over Giulio's little black head, and he&lt;br /&gt;had seen the pen frying over the wrappers, and in an&lt;br /&gt;instant he had divined all, remembered all, understood&lt;br /&gt;all, and a despairing penitence, but at the same time an&lt;br /&gt;immense tenderness, had taken possession of his mind&lt;br /&gt;and had held him nailed to the spot suffocating behind&lt;br /&gt;his child. Suddenly Giulio uttered a piercing shriek.'&lt;br /&gt;two arms had pressed his head convulsively.&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, papa, papa! forgive me, forgive rne ! " he&lt;br /&gt;cried, recognizing his parent by his weeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Do you forgive me ! " replied his father, sobbing,&lt;br /&gt;and covering his brow with kisses. "I have under-&lt;br /&gt;stood all, I know all ; it is I, it is I who ask your&lt;br /&gt;pardon, my blessed little creature ; come, come with&lt;br /&gt;me ! " and he pushed or rather carried him to the bed-&lt;br /&gt;side of his mother, who was awake, and throwing him&lt;br /&gt;into her arms, he said : —&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Kiss this little angel of a son, who has not slept&lt;br /&gt;for three months, but has been toiling for me, while I&lt;br /&gt;was saddening his heart, and he was earning our&lt;br /&gt;bread ! " The mother pressed him to her breast and&lt;br /&gt;held him there, without the power to speak ; at last&lt;br /&gt;she said : " Go to sleep at once, m}' baby, go to sleep&lt;br /&gt;and rest. — Carry him to bed."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The father took him from her arms, carried him to&lt;br /&gt;his room, and laid him in his bed, still breathing hard&lt;br /&gt;and caressing him, and arranged his pillows and cov-&lt;br /&gt;erlets for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks, papa," the child kept repeating ; "thanks ;&lt;br /&gt;but go to bed }'ourself now ; I am content ; go to bed,&lt;br /&gt;papa."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But his father wanted to see him fall asleep ; so he&lt;br /&gt;sat down beside the bed, took his hand, and said to&lt;br /&gt;him, " Sleep, sleep, nrv little son ! " and Giulio, being&lt;br /&gt;weak, fell asleep at last, and slumbered many hours,&lt;br /&gt;enjoying, for the first time in many months, a tranquil&lt;br /&gt;sleep, enlivened by pleasant dreams ; and as he opened&lt;br /&gt;his eyes, when the sun had already been shining for a&lt;br /&gt;tolerably long time, he first felt, and then saw, close&lt;br /&gt;to his breast, and resting upon the edge of the little&lt;br /&gt;bed, the white head of his father, who had passed the&lt;br /&gt;night thus, and who was still asleep, with his brow&lt;br /&gt;against his son's heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edmondo de Amicis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for making my childhood meaningful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-5618493256540122283?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/5618493256540122283/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=5618493256540122283' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/5618493256540122283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/5618493256540122283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2009/10/1-part-of-crista.html' title='1 % part of Crista'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-5065346790511216957</id><published>2009-10-15T08:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T08:17:32.014-07:00</updated><title type='text'>goooooooooool</title><content type='html'>Nici nu stiu daca sunt in stare sa mai scriu. Am inteles mai multe in ultimele trei luni decat am inteles in 19 ani. Superficialitatea si "dezmatul" guverneaza lumea si sinceritatea si profunzimea sunt depasite. Pleci de acasa la 18 ani de unde mamica iti facea ceiutul de dimineata si de duceai la liceu...cu o ora intarziere si o pauza prelungita si te urci in tren si zici: Plec frate! Plec! Ca sa mai vad si eu alta lume, alti ochi, alte iluzii. Si te trezesti asa...parza izbindu-te cu capul de pietre, ca mamica nu mai e acolo sa ti mai faca ceiutz. Si intri intr o lume in care...sa lasam deoparte ca esti pe cont propriu dar lumea de langa tine mai e si murdara, dar asa...murdara pana in ultima celula. E un soi de inocenta cu care am crescut, si o viziune care chiar si acum mie m-i se pare fireasca. Insa ma pierd in remarci stupide, machiaje fortate, fuste scurte, si personalitati in degradare. Si ma intreb....Unde sunt eu? Unde ma aflu si unde ma duc? De ce sunt inconjurata de umbre?Si daca ma voi trezi vreodata? Ma simt faramitata in 1000 de bucati. Cine le aduna?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cucu&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-5065346790511216957?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/5065346790511216957/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=5065346790511216957' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/5065346790511216957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/5065346790511216957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2009/10/goooooooooool.html' title='goooooooooool'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-7142521716348819615</id><published>2009-05-20T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T17:26:40.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sniff...sniff</title><content type='html'>E foarte greu sa descriu senzatia asta....pe care o simt acuma...&lt;br /&gt;OK...&lt;br /&gt;o sa incerc!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;De cand eram micuta primvara avea un miros aparte. Si nu vorbesc numai de parfumul copacilor sau de mirosul proaspat al copacilor din fata blocului. Imi aduc aminte cand mergeam pe langa gradinita si apoi pe langa strandul din cartier si in fiecare vara....simteam acel parfum. Apoi mai e mirosul de cladiri vechi. Prin clasa a 7-a faceam pian pe langa Cismigiu intr-o casa veche veche cu o studenta in anul 3 la Conservator. Avea un pian mare intr-o casa gen casa avarului Costache...iar eu ma simteam ca Otilia. Numai ca eram mai visatoare ca ea. Ei...si casele vechi din centrul orasului intotdeauna imi fac pielea de gaina....cred ca are ceva legatura cu istoria pe care fiecare dintre ele o detine si nu e numai vorba de miros propriu zis. Insa are un efect de "drog" asupra mea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Acum mai e mirosul de ploaie si pamant umed. Nu cred ca e alt miros pe pamantul asta care sa ma rastalmaceasca precum (am evitat cuvantul "ca" din motive stilistice) mirosul de ploaie. Pacat ca e umeda ploaia asta....altfel m-as muta in ploaie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sau....sau mirosul de miezul noptii....si nu zic de Bucuresti...desi zona in care stateam eu in Bucuresti era destul de curata. Mirosul ala de aer proaspat si curat si dens care e noaptea tarziu pe strada care e total diferit de mirosul de aer de la 6 dimineata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si mirosul de paine scoasa din cuptor....&lt;br /&gt;sau mirosul de mare...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cam atat am vrut sa spun. Nu e ca si cum ma concentrez numai pe simturile olfactive insa cateodata .....valoreaza mai mult pentru mine decat orice alta imagine vizuala sau auditiva.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Si sa nu ma luati cu miresme gen Coco Chanel acetona sau pasta corectoare .....pentru ca eu incercam sa fiu ceva mai profunda in entry-ul asta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ma duc sa sniffai ploaia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crista&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-7142521716348819615?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/7142521716348819615/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=7142521716348819615' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/7142521716348819615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/7142521716348819615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2009/05/sniffsniff.html' title='sniff...sniff'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-3733900931132771002</id><published>2009-04-29T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T14:32:05.819-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shiny coins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ghetto'/><title type='text'>Today's anecdote</title><content type='html'>Location: The Ghetto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actors: old man, the customer in a good mood and of course...the lovely lovely cashier...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preface:.after 4 hours of work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly the cashier realizes that the product that she was scanning...had a code that wasn't really legible and since there wasn't anyone near her to help her overcome the situation, she excuses herself and runs towards the aisle in question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old man: I want THAT ham! That one!!!!(pointing toward the bar-codeless product on the till).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cashier: Sure. Just let me get another one and I promise you will have the one you want with the right price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old man (moaning to the next person next him): Where is she going?urgh!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as the cashier ran to get the impossible ham, she notices an empty box...where all the products where supposed to be. Slightly irritated by the lack of empathy the customer was showing, the cashier returned to the till informing the now-reddish customer that his ham....was nowhere to be found.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing the over-the-top angly customer, the cashier decided to call the manager, and eventually the conflict was resolved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cashier: (to the next customer) Hello, would you like some bags?....scanning....(no answer). Utterly surprised by his behavior, and slightly frightened by the growing queue she silently continued scanning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer in a good mood 1: Hello, love! How are you today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cashier (with a touch of irony): Smashing!!! How are YOU today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer in a good mood 1: well I heard, that since you kept as all waiting for you that we will get a discount. Well?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cashier: Umnnn....well I don't know about the discount. (Suddently with big eyes and childish grin on her face) But I can give you the shiniest coins in my till as your change?Would that work?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Customer in a good mood 1: (laughing) Well that's new...Okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as he was exiting the store....I could swear he said.....'shiny coins' again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;The End&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-3733900931132771002?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/3733900931132771002/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=3733900931132771002' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/3733900931132771002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/3733900931132771002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2009/04/todays-anecdote.html' title='Today&apos;s anecdote'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-7831418769169062509</id><published>2009-04-24T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T16:59:05.457-07:00</updated><title type='text'>de la scutece...incoace</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SfJRoRV4R-I/AAAAAAAAAEI/AQTBpya9ZAc/s1600-h/tama.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328411061424506850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SfJRoRV4R-I/AAAAAAAAAEI/AQTBpya9ZAc/s320/tama.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunt unele momente care nu o sa le uit niciodata.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Insa le uit. Apoi imi aduc aminte de ele. Si zambesc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Imi aduc aminte cum mirosea aerul in prima zi de scoala. Aveam 6 ani. Cu cateva zile inainte imi cumparase mama caiete si creioane si Maria ma invatase sa-mi liniez caietele. Cu doua linii pe margine (era mai elegant). Imi aduc aminte povestile si cantecele de pe pick-up, si-mi aduc aminte cum acul care muncea neincetat necesita din cand in cand dezvelirea stratului de praf ce se acumula de pe discuri. Imi aduc aminte cum simteam in clasa a 6-a ca nu-mi mai pot sta in pielea mea, la fel de bine cum imi aduc aminte eseul pe care l-am conceput pentru concursul Star Wars de la PRO fm, unde am scos tot cartierul la "Attack of the Clones" la Hollywood Multiplex. Imi aduc aminte cum in clasa I mama imi tinea mana in mana ei si ma ajuta sa scriu seara, cand ajungea de la servici, si cand eu eram mult prea obosita sau somnoroasa ca sa mai scriu de bunavoie. Imi aduc aminte cum in clasa a 2-a toti colegii mei primisera cadou de la parinti "tamagotchi" si mi-amintesc ca am strans cei 50.000 azi 5 RON timp de vreo 2 luni in coperta rosie a carnetului meu de elev, si mi-amintesc chipul vanzatoarei din Titan care mi-a oferit jucaria din vitrina. Trebuie sa marturisesc ca dinozaurul respectiv a crescut...a mancat...si in vreo 2 saptamani a murit..fiind inlocuit de cine stie ce alta jucarie care imi captase atentia in momentul respectiv. Imi amintesc prima zi in care am inceput sa citesc Harry Potter la indemnul Marei. Eram pe canapea in sufragerie si tata se uita la Edward-omul foarfeca. Imi amintesc jocurile de carti Razboi cu Buni si plimbarile din Herastrau. Nu o sa uit niciodata mirosul bucatariei de la gradinita si nici mirosul primaverii in IOR. Nu o sa uit nici primul sarut, la 13 ani, la parterul scolii generale in plina pauza, cand ma ridicasem pe varful degetelor ca sa ajung la destinatie, si unde incercam...pe cat posibil sa fiu cat mai priceputa in timp ce ma simteam....extraordinar de nepriceputa. Nu o sa uit cum am tipat la profesoara de geografie in clasa a 8-a pentru ca nu am stiut sa arat Oltul pe harta...si in mod evident nu o sa uit moaca mea in albumul de sfarsit de generala...unde plansesem pentru ca invatatoarea mea din clasele 1-4 ma certase pentru ca tipasem la profesoara de geografie. Nu o sa uit primul battle din clubul Nemo in primii ani de S.B. unde am simtit ca plutesc prin miscari si nu o sa uit golul din stomac cauzat de aceasta senzatie. Nu o sa uit cat de mult mi-a placut sa tren-uiesc Bucuresti-Cluj timp de 2 ani si nu o sa uit caprioara din Turda. In final...nu o sa uit patinele mele cu rotile si nu o sa uit orele de atletism impreuna cu M. si D. de la Lia Manoliu. Si in niciun caz nu o sa uit sa-mi amintesc.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;C.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-7831418769169062509?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/7831418769169062509/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=7831418769169062509' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/7831418769169062509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/7831418769169062509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2009/04/de-la-scuteceincoace.html' title='de la scutece...incoace'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SfJRoRV4R-I/AAAAAAAAAEI/AQTBpya9ZAc/s72-c/tama.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-317623791951990249</id><published>2009-04-11T15:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T14:47:34.722-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='educatie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='CCCU'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='BAC'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='facultate'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Chiar nu vreau sa fie un entry kilometric, pentru ca stiu ca sunt plictisitoare, insa voiam sa povestesc despre viata, despre scoala despre munca si despre dor. Anul trecut pe 22 august am plecat de acasa, ca un fluturas, cu zambetul pe buze cu speranta in minte si cu un usor gol in stomac (care era cauzat de nerabdare nu de altceva). Primele luni in Anglia au fost o calatorie. Acum cand ma gandesc nu cred ca eram foarte constienta in ce ma bagasem. Abia acum incep sa inteleg. Nu vreau sa fiu siropoasa, sau sa creez un mare "tam-tam" din ceva care nu este dar eu de felul meu sunt mai aventuroasa si plecarea mea a fost foarte spontana din punct de vedere psihologic. Si ajunsa eu pe meleaguri necunoscute, incet incet am iesit din "postcard-ul" pe care il avusesem eu in minte, si am ajuns sa inteleg ce inseamna cu adevarat libertatea. In ceea ce priveste scoala nu credeam ca o sa mai trec prin tensiunea "bac-ului" dupa clasa a 12-a. Am gresit!!! Fiecare cuvintel spus de profesori e citat dintr-o carte, care e citata in alta carte...si tot asa. Felul in care este structurata materia si felul in care iti este cerut sa te pregatesti pentru examene si esee cere sa citesti....sa citesti...si sa tot citesti. Marturisesc ca in generala nu mi am manifestat un interes avid pentru "cunostinta". Imi placea sa citesc insa rareori gaseam ceva care sa-mi starneasca interesul cu adevarat. In liceu (aflandu-ma intr-un mediu care era usor mai degradat din punct de vedere educational) am simtit nevoia de mai mult. Mi-a placut ce faceam la scoala, mi-au placut profesorii, activitatile extra-scolare, excursiile, studiile de caz, orele de psihologie si de E.T.G (educatie de tehnologie generala). Si asa am invatat ca scoala nu e numai mate-geogra-istorie si romana. Pentru mine BAC-ul a fost cel mai bun lucru care l-am invatat in liceu. In clasa a 10-a incepusem sa castig bani. Faceam babysitting la o familie de englezi si aveam grija de fetita lor care atunci avea 9 ani. O luam de la scoala, gateam ceva, o ajutam la teme, mai ieseam in parc...in fine....castigam niste banuti. In clasa a 11-a am dat si meditatii la engleza. O data cu venirea BAC-ului fusesem sfatuita din toate partile sa renunt la babysitting ca sa fac fata la cerintele examenului. Drept sa spun nu am facut asta. Imi intrasem deja intr-un ritm liceu-babysitting-casa care ma tinea intr-o forma destul de buna si sincer banutii pe care ii luam ma ajutau sa-mi satisfac unele capricii. Inca mai simt mirosul IOR-ului la 5 dimineata in ultimele luni dinaintea bacului dupa ce recapitulam capitole intregi de teorie. Pentru mine era minunat!!! Imi descoperisem capacitatile de memorare si eram cu adevarat fericita ca invatam! Colegii mei erau unii tensionati...altii inconstienti...si eu..ma bucuram ca invatam. O data cu venirea diminetii ma culcam si urma sa ma trezesc in cateva ore ca sa ajung la vreo ora de recapitulare la liceu (unde sigur intarziam). Nu intru in detalii despre cum a fost BAC-ul ca examen in sine. O sa ma abtin de la comentarii despre un sistem de invatamant care s-a devalorizat treptat. Am sa nuantez ce am invatat eu din experienta asta. Am invatat ca noptile de studiu nu sunt pierdute ci satisfacatoare, ca mirosul de zori e incredibil de revigorant si cel mai important am inteles ce pot sa fac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Primele luni cand am ajuns in facultate in CCCU am apreciat conditiile de studiu. Imensitatea bibleotecii, amfiteatrele cu scaune pufoase, CCCU Student Union unde gasesti mereu cafea proaspata si in general luxul universitar. Profesorii m-i se pareau grabiti. Grabiti sa ofere informatii si eu ametita incercand sa le prind. Am avut impresia ca temele sunt usoare. Ei spuneti voi eseu de 1000 de cuvinte???"Piece of cake"...la vremea aia. In jurul Craciunului am realizat ca un eseu bun inseamna o cercerare de cel putin 10 carti citite cap-coada (per concept). Si cum eseele in general sunt prezentate ca un complex de concepte...eheheeeeei. Facultatea mea are o ideologie. In luna martie se dau teme (assignments-uri) si toate materiile dau cate 1 sau poate chiar 2 teme. Esee in general 2500 de cuvinte, studii de caz, analize pe diferite domenii. Si motivul pentru care luna martie este asa de plina este pentru ca profesorii asa pot analiza capacitatile studentilor de a lucra sub stress si asa pot vedea felul in care studentii fac fata acestei perioade. Am colegi care au renuntat deja la scoala. 3200 lire duse pe apa sambetei. Ei bine, luna martie anul asta a fost un al doilea BAC. Invatam noaptea, citeam si scriam scriam scriaaaaam la esee, dupa care taiam si iar scriam si iar citeam. La ora 5 dimineata realizam ca nu mai are sens sa mai dorm. Trebuia sa fiu la munca la 8. La servici lucram, si in jurul orei 5-6 seara imi puneam problema serios daca eu sunt Crista....daca exist cu adevarat, si pe cuvantul meu de onoare ca vedeam in punctulete. Pavel Stratan descria senzatia asta legata de bautura "Ma las de toate, ma duc acolo, ma intorc inapoi, ma iau si pe mine" .Ochii mei actionau ca o camera de filmat care inregistra totul insa nu prea mai procesa. Asta timp de o luna. Nu cred ca am dormit mai mult de 2 ore pe noapte in luna aia. Managerii la servici imi ziceau "zombie" sau "coffee" asta pentru ca tot timpul aveam lipita de mana un "grande latte" care ma ajuta sa ma regasesc pe mine....in mine. Insa mi-a placut!!! Imi place educatia dusa la extrem! Si nu e ca si cum as lasa totul pentru ultima secunda pentru ca nu e asa! Am lucrat "in trepte" insa sistemul englezesc cere o continua perfectionare. Si ceea ce e cu adevarat frumos....un eseu despre turism....nu e numai despre turism....poate fi despre orice. Daca ai inteligenta sa creezi anumite legaturi cu psihologia cu istoria cu sociologia....ba chiar si cu matematica, astfel incat sa ajungi bineinteles la o concluzie valida in privinta subiectului poti sa te declari fericit! Asa am invatat valoarea cuvintelor si legaturile dintre ideologii. Pe cuvant e minunat!!! Pe mine starea de tensiune gen"sesiune" ma ajuta sa ma redepasesc continuu. Si imi place "de mor" (Georgeta,2004) ca sa folosesc si Harvard referencing. Acum sunt in vacanta. Ma gandeam sa ma apuc de voluntariat in Londra. Am cautat zilele trecute pe internet voluntariate legate de olimpiada din 2012- dezvoltare catre turism. Vreau sa fac atat de multe....pacat ca ziua are doar 24 de ore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Altfel spus....mi-e dor de casa. Vreau sa vad Bucurestiul primavara. Intotdeauna mi-a placut tranzitia iarna-primavara cu Martisor si 1 aprilie si toate cele....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pana una alta....pinguinii nu zboara...insa BBC ne-a pacalit pe toti.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9dfWzp7rYR4"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9dfWzp7rYR4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-317623791951990249?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/317623791951990249/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=317623791951990249' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/317623791951990249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/317623791951990249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2009/04/chiar-nu-vreau-sa-fie-un-entry.html' title=''/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-2727738487852031524</id><published>2009-03-22T15:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T15:54:44.537-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back but not in black</title><content type='html'>Imi pare super rau ca nu am mai postat....voi reveni in cateva zile cu mai multe detalii. Cert este ca am muncit super mult si la scoala si la servici. Am de returnat atatea carti la biblioteca incat ma gandesc serios sa le car cu o valiza pana acolo....Pomit pe cuvant de non-cercetas ca scriu!!!! sa va fie clar!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pupici&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-2727738487852031524?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/2727738487852031524/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=2727738487852031524' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/2727738487852031524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/2727738487852031524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2009/03/back-but-not-in-black.html' title='Back but not in black'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-338751714088294315</id><published>2008-11-26T12:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-26T13:13:27.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Despre umbra mea.</title><content type='html'>Nu e un post despre Peter Pan ci despre alticineva!(asta ca sa stiti)&lt;br /&gt;Spuneam in postarile anterioare ca imi doresc sa o cunosc pe Paris Geller a mea. Nu e tocmai ce ma asteptam, dar sunt multumita! O cheama Wan-Jeong (nu radeti!!!) e coreanca si are in jur de 38 de ani. Desi pana acuma am preferat sa nu interactionez cu persoane cu varsta peste 25 de ani, acum se dovedeste a fi destul de interesant. Cum nu stapaneste foarte bine limba engleza mi-a cerut ajutorul de cateva ori. Si cum bunul simt la mine nu are limita (observati modestia), am acceptat de fiecare data. De atunci, lucrem impreuna! Eu ii corectez ei lucrarile, si in acelasi timp lucrez la ale mele.&lt;br /&gt;Sistemul meu de a invata e foarte diferit de altele. Ca sa reusesc sa retin tot ceea ce-mi doresc ( in perioade in care trebuie sa invat mult) trebuie sa intru intr-un fel de transa. In ultimele doua luni inainte de bacalaureat am trecut printr-o astfel de perioada. Noptile invatam, zilele le petreceam la babysitting si dormeam cand apucam. Cate ness-uri si croissante am mancat drept "snackuiala" in noptile acelea nu o sa stiu niciodata. Cert este ca mi-a placut! Mi-a placut sa invat! Mult! Lumea din jurul meu era stresata pentru ca timpul trecea si bac-ul se apropia iar eu noapte de noapte eram din ce in ce mai increzatoare in propriile mele forte. Acum chiar ma gandesc cu placere la examen si la momentele dinaintea lui.&lt;br /&gt;Stiu ca am deviat de la subiect (Wan-Jeong) dar am vrut sa accentuez ca in momentul asta ma aflu (din nou) intr-o situatie similara, si asta numai din cauza ei. Ea e cea care zice in fiecare zi "ma ajuti cu asta?", "si eseul e asa de greu" si nu pot sa o refuz! Ma stimuleaza! Din cauza asta scriu....:)) poate prea mult dar daca asta fac de o saptamana....&lt;br /&gt;Am terminat primul meu eseu pentru Introducere in turism insa mai vreau sa finisez unele detalii (am scris mult prea mult si va trebui sa mai tai din el pentru ca trebuie sa-l scriu live in 40 de minute). Azi m-am apucat de cel de-al doilea eseu care este pentru Contemporary Issues in Tourism, unde trebuia sa ne alegem un subiect la intamplare si eu mi am ales Film Tourism. Cine nu stie, sunt o super-hiper fana a filmelor asa ca ma simt foarte inspirata. O sa fac un eseu de milioane!!!&lt;br /&gt;Saptamana viitoare am un examen la Marketing pentru care inca nu m-am pregatit cum trebuie dar sunt sigura ca voi reusi in timp.&lt;br /&gt;Ce sa va mai spun... A da!!! Invat coreana! De la Wan-Jeong desigur! Am invatat cum zici "prieten", "draga" si ultra-cunoscutul "te iubesc". Sunt pe calea cea buna. Si eu am invatat-o sa zica "pa-pa" si i-am aratat bancnotele noastre de plastic. Pipaindu-le si mototolindu-le a ajuns la concluzia ca a face bancnote de plastic este "very clever"( cu accent corean).&lt;br /&gt;Si cum dupa scoala vine munca, trebuie sa va impartasesc cea mai recenta experienta de tipul "ce nu te omoara te intareste"pe care am avut-o. Zilele trecute la Netto a fost inventar. S-au numarat toate produsele din stoc, de la masini de cusut la cascaval la pungi. Si cine...CINE a trebuit sa numere pungile? Ghici ghicitoarea mea! Crista. Am numarat manual...timp de doua ore toate pungile de la case, dupa care m-am dus in depozit si am numarat si ce mai era acolo, si in timp ce faceam toate astea a trebuit sa mai si stau la casa. Spre finalul zilei, fericita ca am terminat cu bine si ca am iesit pe plus cu banii din casa, aflu ca nu am voie sa plec acasa. De ce? Pai cum de ce? Pentru ca in zilele in care se numara stocul nimeni nu pleaca inainte sa se termine inventarul. Asa ca...la 9 seara, dupa 8 ore de munca in magazin si numarat pungi, mi-am tarsait picioarele spre raionul cu cascaval (fiind asimilata de Nick cu un pinguin) si am inceput sa numar numeroasele rondele care...in caz ca am uitat sa spun...se afla in partea magazinului pe care eu am incercat sa o evit cat am putut pana acum din cauza ca e refrigorata! Refrigorata? Merge? Merge!!!&lt;br /&gt;Cert e ca am ajuns acasa pe la 10! Trantita in pat mi-am facut planul pentru a doua zi! De la capat...scoala...munca..pat! Voi ce faceti?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. De doua zile mi-e tare pofta de o merdenea!!! Daca apucati...mancati si voi una pentru mine. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pupici.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-338751714088294315?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/338751714088294315/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=338751714088294315' title='6 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/338751714088294315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/338751714088294315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/11/despre-umbra-mea.html' title='Despre umbra mea.'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-7964863166695949932</id><published>2008-11-08T16:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T16:48:10.876-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Drumul spre scoala....before and after</title><content type='html'>E ora 10 dimineata...dupa procesul de trezire/spalare/imbracare pornesc spre facultate. Ies pe usa, si in momentul in care ajung in fata magazinului Wincheap Harware (si observ in vitrina o pisica mare de portelan) ma "trazneste" o idee. Before and afer. Ce faceam eu anul trecut pe vremea asta? Si uite asa au inceput comparatiile. Drumul spre scoala. Metrou Titan-Dristor, Dristor-Iancului. Tzusti din metrou, hopa in 311. Aglomeratie. Ajung la scoala pe la a 3-a ora. Iau un sandvis cu pui si maioneza de la Tanti Nuti. Dupa scoala urmeaza babysitting, acasa Gilmore Girls. Si gandindu-ma eu...( in timp ce mergeam of course) ajung pe la East Station, si intr-un fel dubios nu vad nici urma de Dristor,Titan, 311 sau Tanti Nuti.&lt;br /&gt;Ajung in campus. Incerc sa dau de amfiteatrul unde e ora de marketing. Iar au schimbat sala. Si atunci din nou (BUM) ....Xenopol ...sala de langa laboratorul de biologie. Dupa ore ajung la cantina. Iau un sandvis....tot cu pui si cu maioneza ( dar in Romania avea un gust mai bun).&lt;br /&gt;Si spre sfarsitul zilei...imi dau eu defapt seama...cat de mult se pot schimba lucrurile intr-un an. Scoala e tot scoala. Masa...sa zicem ca e tot masa...Dar unde e Bucurestiul? De ce nu sunt Dacii pe strada? Unde e painea pufoasa? Unde e tnuva cu aroma de cozonaci? UNDE sunt cozonacii? Cine face cozonacii?Mama!!!Unde e mama?&lt;br /&gt;Acasa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daca pare un entry siropos sa stiti ca nu e. Dar e ciudat daca stai sa te gandesti ce faceai acum un an. Cum erau oamenii de langa tine....si tot asa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pana una alta, la scoala e de munca. Avem multe proiecte la marketing, esee la research methods si contemporary issues in tourism. Plus de citit o gramada. La Netto totul e OK. Azi am iesit cu 30p pe plus.Yeey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Va pupicesc.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-7964863166695949932?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/7964863166695949932/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=7964863166695949932' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/7964863166695949932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/7964863166695949932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/11/drumul-spre-scoalabefore-and-after.html' title='Drumul spre scoala....before and after'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-4210889017684985750</id><published>2008-11-01T07:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T08:27:29.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tara lui "Multumesc".</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SQxz1FpbybI/AAAAAAAAACU/kMCg-RnMagQ/s1600-h/Netto.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5263709420375493042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 228px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SQxz1FpbybI/AAAAAAAAACU/kMCg-RnMagQ/s320/Netto.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Imi pare rau ca nu prea am mai scris, dar de cand m-am angajat nu prea am mai avut timp decat sa merg la scoala si la Netto, sa mananc si sa dorm. Cam asta e programul meu. Dar e ok...supravietuiesc. No worries.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Detalii despre job. Netto este un supermarket gen Mega Image. Lumea prefera sa faca cumparaturile aici pentru ca produsele sunt cu un piculutz mai ieftine ca in celelalte magazine. Eu sunt o casierita simpatica care intotdeauna zambeste. Incerc sa fac cat mai multe lucruri si sa fiu cat mai rapida pentru ca magazinul ....are de toate numai caldura nu. Si seara nu e foarte comfortabil sa lucrezi la casa de langa usa. De cand cu jobul asta, simturile mele s-au hiper-dezvoltat. Pot simti o cutie de cereale Cheerios de la 5 metri de banda departare. Am invatat unde sunt codurile aproape la fiecare produs. Daca la inceput casa scotea un bip-bip o data la 5 secunde, acum e un bip-bip mai ritmic...mai alert.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Marturisesc ca am iesit cu casa pe minus de cateva ori. 5 lire, 6,7...dar managerii au fost foarte draguti si au zis ca face parte din procesul de invatare. Ca dovada ieri seara am iesit doar cu 10 p pe minus ( moment de glorie ).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Culmea. Englezii (mama scuze de generalizare) cumpara numai porcarii. MUUUUULTE dulciuri, paine, taitei ( serios exista cel putin 10 sortimente diferite de taitei....asa ca lumea cupara la bax), sucuri,cereale, (ca legume mai mult broccoli si castraveti), bezele, covrigei, tot ce e buy one get one free...si maaaai aleees bauturi alcoolice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ieri a fost Halloween-ul aici, si cum engezii tin la sarbatorile lor am avut multi clienti in magazin care au cumparat alcool, printre care si adolescenti. Nu stiu cum sa face dar de fiecare data cand am un suspicios...si il intreb de sanatate, viata, prieteni, familie si in final de o carte de identitate, sunt intampinata de o serie de balbaituri. Ca e acasa, l-a mancat catelul, pisica, purcelul. Orice numai la el sa nu fie. Ieri am avut (spre exemplu) un neamt care voia sa cumpere trei baxuri de bere si vreo 2 sticle de vodka. Si cand l -am intrebat de ID, a inceput sa mi arate cardurile din portofelul lui. I-am zis ca nu merge cu carduri...ca am nevoie de ceva pe care scrie data de nastere. El nu: a scos mastercard, visa, visa electron. Nimic. A doua oare cand i-am explicat ca-mi trebuie ID a scos rusinos din portofel un cardulet mic (buletin de Germania) pe care scria cu niste cifre miiici miici 15.04.1991. Victorioasa ca "l-am prins cu matza-n sac", ii zambesc si ii explic, ca dupa matematica mea (multumesc doamnei Dragan), 1991+18=2009. Si ca noi suntem in 2008 ( inca). In final, simpaticul pustan imi zambeste jenat si pleaca.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ca formule de introducere si incheiere, intotdeauna e "mulumesc"la engezi. Cred ca zic de cel putin 5 ori multumesc la fiecare client. Suna cam asa: eu:"would you like a bag" el: " yes.thank you" eu: "thank you"....spre final...calculez totalul....zic:"that's 19,96 please" el:"here you are, thank you" eu "thank you"...pun banii in casa si ii dau bonul eu:"Thank you" el "Thank you" . Il ajut sa puna produsele in punga si la sfarsit imi zice "thank you"...eu evident..."thank you very much". Si cam asta e. Multumesc pe paine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nu prea imi place sa iau pauze pentru ca daca in magazin e frig, in depozit unde e cantina este si mai frig. Prefer sa mut produse. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Poate ca am creat o imagine un pic cam dura dar nu e chiar asa. Tot staff-ul e foarte simpatic si amuzant ) intr-o seara dupa ce am inchis magazinul am dat muzica la maxim si am ascultat Razorlight. Clientii fac cateodata glume si ma mai trezesc din "thank-you-ul meu continuu" si intotdeauna sunt amuzata cand vreo babutza (pardon. doamna de 70-80 primaveri) imi da marunt toti banii pana la ultimul penny si imi zice : "thank you love".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Intre timp am primit autorizare de la statul major ( in cazul asta Radu), sa conduc solo. Asa ca volvo-uiesc si e foarte placut ( satisfactia e dubla ca ma descurc perfect pe partea stanga).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Va pupiceste Crista de la Netto-Ghetto. Apropos pe bonul de la casa mea scrie: You have been served by Christina. cu h. Poate ii conving sa puna Crista.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thank you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-4210889017684985750?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/4210889017684985750/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=4210889017684985750' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/4210889017684985750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/4210889017684985750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/11/tara-lui-multumesc.html' title='Tara lui &quot;Multumesc&quot;.'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SQxz1FpbybI/AAAAAAAAACU/kMCg-RnMagQ/s72-c/Netto.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-1299442412395825707</id><published>2008-10-12T07:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T08:12:16.849-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Madame Tussauds</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPITwI58GCI/AAAAAAAAACM/zR-N87YSG2o/s1600-h/IMG_0123.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256285432839936034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPITwI58GCI/AAAAAAAAACM/zR-N87YSG2o/s320/IMG_0123.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPITgcQS4JI/AAAAAAAAACE/aLyTCfrNoIE/s1600-h/IMG_0129.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256285163156070546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPITgcQS4JI/AAAAAAAAACE/aLyTCfrNoIE/s320/IMG_0129.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPITJrRUXgI/AAAAAAAAAB8/dtre4CDVUZ0/s1600-h/IMG_0143.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256284772049903106" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPITJrRUXgI/AAAAAAAAAB8/dtre4CDVUZ0/s320/IMG_0143.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPIS6d5PtHI/AAAAAAAAAB0/cKNdC8xiI08/s1600-h/IMG_0142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256284510761235570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPIS6d5PtHI/AAAAAAAAAB0/cKNdC8xiI08/s320/IMG_0142.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPISwi_bReI/AAAAAAAAABs/JXOsEJfpIpY/s1600-h/IMG_0140.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256284340330644962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPISwi_bReI/AAAAAAAAABs/JXOsEJfpIpY/s320/IMG_0140.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPISndYojsI/AAAAAAAAABk/jEOjcEI70Fc/s1600-h/IMG_0138.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256284184206937794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPISndYojsI/AAAAAAAAABk/jEOjcEI70Fc/s320/IMG_0138.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPISYPLvXII/AAAAAAAAABc/wM5tWi-oHis/s1600-h/IMG_0137.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256283922696723586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPISYPLvXII/AAAAAAAAABc/wM5tWi-oHis/s320/IMG_0137.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPIR03kqs4I/AAAAAAAAABU/PHpuiiWFHwo/s1600-h/IMG_0133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256283315063403394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPIR03kqs4I/AAAAAAAAABU/PHpuiiWFHwo/s320/IMG_0133.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPIRnpuHcQI/AAAAAAAAABM/nVl0kUn7Pcw/s1600-h/IMG_0132.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256283088006639874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPIRnpuHcQI/AAAAAAAAABM/nVl0kUn7Pcw/s320/IMG_0132.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPIRc4gnU9I/AAAAAAAAABE/f_7x5fOLWWk/s1600-h/IMG_0127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256282902997980114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPIRc4gnU9I/AAAAAAAAABE/f_7x5fOLWWk/s320/IMG_0127.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;cool nu???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-1299442412395825707?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/1299442412395825707/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=1299442412395825707' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/1299442412395825707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/1299442412395825707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/10/madame-tussauds.html' title='Madame Tussauds'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SPITwI58GCI/AAAAAAAAACM/zR-N87YSG2o/s72-c/IMG_0123.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-5065768726092666492</id><published>2008-10-11T09:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-11T10:33:07.541-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Multe de spus...</title><content type='html'>Chiar asa este! S-au intamplat super multe lucruri in ultima vreme numai ca nu prea am mai avut timp sa mai intru pe internet. Au inceput cursurile, am inceput sa citesc din manualele (mai degraba dictionarele) pe care le-am cumparat pentru facultate si caut in continuare job.&lt;br /&gt;Azi am fost in Ashford ( un oras la vreo 10 mile de Canterbury) ca sa caut vacancies. Am impartit cateva CV-uri...o sa vedem cum o sa iasa. In Canterbury nu prea mai sunt job-uri ( a venit valul de studenti), da nu-i problema ca ma descurc eu.&lt;br /&gt;In sfarsit stiu mai multe detalii despre facultate, profesori si elevi ca sa pot sa va povestesc mai multe. Profesorii sunt super simpatici.  Avem un nene (am zis nene ca sa evit cuvantul mosulet), pe care toata lumea il considera plictisitor dar pe care eu il simpatizez. Pe langa faptul ca e zambaret si ii straluceste cheliuta in lumina, explica totul in foarte multe detalii si da exemple multe. Preda Research Methods si Introduction to Leisure Studies. Intotdeauna ajunge cu 15 minute mai devreme la ora (in speranta ca o sa se descurce cu calculatorul si cu slide-urile pe care le are pregatite pentru noi) insa de fiecare data incepe cu 5 minute mai tarziu din cauza "tehnologiei avansate". E genul de profesor care isi cere scuze de 100 de ori cand a gresit cu ceva, care are vocea calda si e mereu vesel si entuziasmat ca preda.&lt;br /&gt;Marion Stuart-Hoyle este directoarea programului de turism si profesoara noastra de Introduction to Tourism Lecture. Este super-serioasa tot timpul, punctuala, grabita ( in sensul bun). Cred ca o vad in aceeasi zi in 50 de locuri diferite. Cateodata ma intreb daca nu sunt mai multe Marion in acelasi campus...De predat preda in stilul clasic. Scriem. Citim. Si iar scriem.&lt;br /&gt;Profesorul de contabilitate. Simpatic om. Ne-a rugat sa-i zicem Trevor asa ca Trevor ii vom zice.&lt;br /&gt;Un nene pe la vreo 50+ ani, fost director de banca, simpatic rau. E genul de persoana care face foarte multe glume in timp ce preda, si de fiecare data asteapta sa-i impartasesti entuziasmul. Poarta mereu o batistuta rosie in buzunarul de la costum, lucru pe care l-am remarcat din cauza contrastului evident intre costum si eleganta batista. Chiar daca cateodata sare de la un subiect la altul si intotdeauna promite ca se va intoarce la acel subiect, niciodata nu face asta. Dar asta il face simpatic.&lt;br /&gt;De Marketing ce sa spun...Profesoara este destul de severa (manualul nostru cantareste 1kg si are 859 de pagini, si nu vreau sa spun lungimea listei de carti suplimentare), dar intotdeauna face glume istete si pune intrebari studentilor. Nu se doarme la ea la ora (nu ca eu as dormi vreodata dar exista si astfel de specimene) pentru ca intotdeauna este in priza si stie dansa cum sa ne atraga atentia pe subiectul respectiv.&lt;br /&gt;Si in sfarsit Contemporary Issues (cursul pe care eu voiam sa nu il mai fac dar m-am rezgandit din cauza profesoarei) este destul de interesant. Suntem pusi la gramada cu elevii de la Tourism&amp;amp;Leisure studies si cei de la Tourism Events, lucru care face ca felul in care se preda sa atace mai multe subiecte si astfel sa fie mai interesant. Vorbim de toti factorii care influenteaza turismul in ziua de azi (de la vreme la sezonul de shopping) si muuulte alte lucruri. Duduia care ne preda e simpatica si vioaie.&lt;br /&gt;Gata cu materiile. Sa incepem cu studentii. Avem asa: the geeks, the plastics, the emo-s, the hippies, the we-like-zara group, grupul fotbalistilor (de ala tre' sa fugi), grupul I-don't-give-a-f**k-about-life si asssaaaa mai departe. Clasa mea contine toate aceste specimene. Speriata de densitatea de par pe fata si roz pe centimetru patrat, cand mi-am vazut colegii de cursuri m-am intrebat daca o sa pot lega vreodata vreun cuvant cu unul dintre ei. Si toate au fost asa pana am ochit o japonezoaica intr-o zi (micuta, slabuta...numai buna de jumulit...glumesc)...nu si mi-am zis in gandul meu "Mai linistiti ca japonezii nu gasesti". Si uite asa am intrat in grupul ei (ea, Shara, Holly, Sophie, Emma si Jess). Toate englezoaice. La inceput primele cuvinte de introducere au fost ok. Where are you from s.a.m.d. pana caaand au inceput cu cluburile ("unde iesim ce facem?", "ptui...i-ar m-am imbatat azi noapte!!!") si maaaai ales cu baieeetii. Cand mai trece pe langa noi un paun-emo cu latele pe fata, unghi negre, pantaloni mulati si ochelari gucci...toate sunt pe jos de emotie.&lt;br /&gt;Si uite asa stau acum in fata calculatorului si ma intreb....Oare o sa o gasesc vreodata pe a mea Paris Geller???&lt;br /&gt;Atat despre "grupul meu", care defapt nu e grupul meu ci doar singurele persoane agreabile din anul meu.&lt;br /&gt;Am sa inchei capitolul-studenti cu un mini-comentariu la adresa reginei cursului de Tourism Management anul 1. O pipita blondulita, cu un accent foaaarte posh, care intoooooordeauna vorbeste foarte tare, povesteste profesorilor visele ei (cel in care moare Britney Spears), si (scuze) linge acadele in timpul orelor (chiar asa face). Ea este the best...spre ea sunt atintite privirile. Si cum orice Barbie are un Ken... po(pon)pularul clasei este un tip care are un Elvis-look foaaaarte glamourous, care face mijto de oricine si de orice.&lt;br /&gt;Asa ca lucrurile nu s-au schimbat. Exista categorii de studenti. Ca acasa. Welcome to CCCU Crista....apropos..pe aici sunt Cristina (cu toate ca nu prea raspund la Cristina, dar daca asa scrie in buletiiiin)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mama...pot sa-mi schimb numele in Crista?sau Krista?sau Kissta ( ca sa fie mai jmecher...) Poooot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pupiiiici.&lt;br /&gt;Ma duc sa fac clatite. Dupa asta am intalnire cu manualul de turism.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-5065768726092666492?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/5065768726092666492/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=5065768726092666492' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/5065768726092666492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/5065768726092666492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/10/multe-de-spus.html' title='Multe de spus...'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-3686902213036649233</id><published>2008-10-04T13:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T14:05:17.095-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jaful de pe St. John's Street</title><content type='html'>Recunosc....recunosc...m-am inspirat din Jaful de pe Baker Street ( super film ), dar in momentele in care inspiratia e pe pauza n-ai ce sa-i faci. Azi a fost ziua celui de-al doilea interviu, la supermarketul Netto, din centrul orasului. De dimineata m-am trezit, am mai trecut inca o data prin notitele mele pentru interviu, m-am facut frumoasa, am pregatit actele si am zbughit-o pe usa. Pe drum am ascultat muzica (asta ca sa mai imi treaca din stress-ul pe care il simteam).&lt;br /&gt;Cand am ajuns in magazin am fost socata de lipsa de personal, dar in sinea mea m-am bucurat (mai mult loc pt mine :D). Am cautat managerul, si nu mica mi-a fost mirarea cand am facut cunostinta cu un pustan (nu avea mai mult de 27 de ani) care m-a invitat politicos (si un pic timid) in biroul lui. Nu incepem bine tra-la-la-ul inteviului ca si intra gafaind peste noi un alt membru al staff-ului. Susotesc ceva, dupa care tanarul manager se indreapta spre mine si zice "someone shoplifted...it happens". Zambesc stanjenita, si imi reincep discursul de "pick me!!!...choose me!!!...want me!!!!" si nici nu apuc sa zic prea multe ca iarasi intra cineva pe usa. De data asta erau trei. Doua gorile care tineau hotul ( un tip pe la 40 de ani). Si uite asa am stat noi 5: eu intervievata, tipul blond (managerul) gorilele si hotul intr-un spatiu de maaaaaxim 10 metri patrati uitandu-ne unii la altii. M-i s-a propus sa merem in depozit sa continuam interviul. Am acceptat, un pic trista ca nu ma mai aflam in centrul actiunii...Tipul si-a cerut mii de scuze...Si eu am recunoscut ca a fost o experienta interesanta pentru mine.&lt;br /&gt;Dupa asta totul a mers bine. N-am avut emotii. Sincer sa spun el se balbaia mai rau ca mine asa ca sunt destul de increzatoare. Pana una alta asta a fost cel mai interesant interviu...Multa actiune...ca-n filme.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-3686902213036649233?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/3686902213036649233/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=3686902213036649233' title='2 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/3686902213036649233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/3686902213036649233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/10/jaful-de-pe-st-johns-street.html' title='Jaful de pe St. John&apos;s Street'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-7519821744987240273</id><published>2008-09-29T13:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T14:21:27.071-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Primul interviu :) &amp; more</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SOFGKvV-eYI/AAAAAAAAAA0/JGcT0GBN7E8/s1600-h/habitat%2520lakeside06.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251555790811986306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SOFGKvV-eYI/AAAAAAAAAA0/JGcT0GBN7E8/s400/habitat%2520lakeside06.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Astazi am avut primul interviu pentru un job. Am aplicat pentru pozitia de asistent de vanzari in cadrul companiei Habitat ( magazin de mobila ), membru al grupului IKANO, din care face parte si Ikea. Dupa saptamani de impartit CV-uri (peste 60) in sfarsit am fost sunata si am fost chemata la un interviu. Totul a fost ok, cu toate ca ma asteptam sa fiu mai emotionata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cu o seara inainte mi-am pregatit hainutele si, da, mi-am scrobit gulerasul de la camasa ca sa fie super calcat :D Chestie de imagine....ma rog. Interviul a mers foarte bine, o multime de intrebari, multe zambete, multe sperante. Am dat tot ce am putut eu, si cu toate ca vorbim de o companie super cunoscuta in UK, am avut norocul sa primesc un raspuns peste cateva ore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cu alte cuvinte, de miercuri sunt on trial!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Canterbury este fff greu sa iti gasesti un job repede deoarece, sunt foarte putine pozitii disponibile si peste 10.000 de studenti interesati sa-si gaseasca ceva part-time. Asa ca toata munca mea de pana acum ( ca babysitter si ca mini-mester), in sfarsit isi arata rezultatul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Azi a fost si prima zi de scoala propriu-zisa. Am avut prima lectura de istoria turismului, in care am luat notite si am observat cat de diferite sunt metodele de predare. Dupa asta am avut un seminar in care ne-au fost testate capacitatile de scriere in limba engleza sub forma unui eseu. Tot procesul Toefl m-a pregatit pentru asta asa ca nu au existat probleme. Sper :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Facultatea mea ofera posibilitatea studierii unei limbi straine, fara ca acest curs sa conteze la nota finala per an. Cum am vrut sa fug de franceza (nu pentru ca nu o inteleg sau pentru ca nu ma descurc, ci pentru ca nu am avut profesori care sa-mi inspire dragostea pentru limba asta) am fost sa ma inscriu la cursurile de spaniola. Pe langa expresiile-cliseu cu "Estoy embarasada","Donde esta Fernando?" si "Estas una desgrasiada" (Made by Acasa), chiar imi doream sa invat mai mult. Nu s-a putut. Toata lumea vrea spaniola. Asa ca m-am intors la franceza (upper intermediate), unde am intalnit o profesoara super serioasa si pusa pe treaba. Pe langa super franceza ei (made in Paris), nu am putut observa dragalasenia accentului ei in momentul in care vorbea in engleza. O placere sa o auzi. Engleza cu accent de franceza..."were iz za nirast sabuai station?". Asa ca am zis in sinea mea: Franceza sa fie!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joi ma duc la scoala sa-mi schimb cursul de Contemporary Issues ( pentru ca lumea asta e plina de probleme care le vedem la TV si nu vreau sa le vad si la scoala) cu un super curs, care in mod sigur are legatura cu obsesia mea fata de actorie si filme in general: American Cinema since 1950. Mirific nu? Parca ma si vad scriind esee despre breakfast at Tiffany's :D:D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pe cuvant de non-cercetas ca scoala e geniala.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super cursuri.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super profesori.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Super Crista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Tineti pumnii pentru Habitat, ca daca nu, va mananc cu fulgi cu tot!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-7519821744987240273?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/7519821744987240273/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=7519821744987240273' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/7519821744987240273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/7519821744987240273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/09/primul-interviu.html' title='Primul interviu :) &amp; more'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SOFGKvV-eYI/AAAAAAAAAA0/JGcT0GBN7E8/s72-c/habitat%2520lakeside06.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-4950883221213501499</id><published>2008-09-28T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T09:32:53.741-07:00</updated><title type='text'>O surpriza placuta :)</title><content type='html'>Azi de dimineata cand mi-am verificat mail-ul am vazut ca am primit un mesaj de la Ioana. ( pentru necunoscatori Ioana este fetita juma' romanca si juma' englezoaica pentru care am facut 2 ani babysitting in Romania,). Incantata ca mai primesc si eu ceva vesti din Romania, si ca nu sunt uitata asa de repede... deschid mesajul :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear crista:i went to England and it was very good and we saw the friends.and we went shopping alot we bought lots of things for me like clothes.And then we went to the seaside at Vadu and i swam i the water and it was fun and the water was very cold and warm and at the deep water. My dad saw dolphins but i didn't because i was playing in the water but the weather was very cold and windy..And then we came back to Bucharest and me and daddy. Went to Brasov and i and daddy went to stay with the tent and zara came with us to and then we went to bunica and bunicu and daddy left me there and he went to the competition and i saw tusi and we went to the town.And we walked around but then we went to bucharest and i started school in year6 and it was good.xxxxxxxx bye&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cu alte cuvinte...am ras cu lacrimi. M-am bucurat super mult ca mi-a scris, si m-a amuzat stilul ei de a scrie in engleza. ( Mi-am adus aminte de mesajele pe care le scriam eu cand eram copilas).&lt;br /&gt;Trece timpul...repede, si nu prea ai ce sa faci. Gata nostalgia.&lt;br /&gt;Maine este o zi super importanta pentru mine, dar nu zic nimic pentru ca nu vreau sa cobesc. Nu sunt o persoana superstitioasa dar...eh...O sa iasa bine!!! Cred. Sper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Termin si eu ca Ioana,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;XXXXXX Byeeee&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-4950883221213501499?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/4950883221213501499/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=4950883221213501499' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/4950883221213501499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/4950883221213501499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/09/o-surpriza-placuta.html' title='O surpriza placuta :)'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-2354868096492021747</id><published>2008-09-23T14:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T14:29:22.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Casute englezesti</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SNlfhig_IFI/AAAAAAAAAAs/9rveG2sLyoQ/s1600-h/IMG_0104.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249331870482505810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SNlfhig_IFI/AAAAAAAAAAs/9rveG2sLyoQ/s400/IMG_0104.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SNlexMkhxrI/AAAAAAAAAAk/yk-xwCo_Yn0/s1600-h/IMG_0584.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249331039958058674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SNlexMkhxrI/AAAAAAAAAAk/yk-xwCo_Yn0/s400/IMG_0584.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Prin bicicleto-calatoriile mele prin Canterbury am descoperit numeroase minunatii ale arhietcturii.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Na poftim!!!Casute englezesti!De pe la 1500 ce-i drept, dar uite ce dragute sunt!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-2354868096492021747?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/2354868096492021747/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=2354868096492021747' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/2354868096492021747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/2354868096492021747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/09/casute-englezesti.html' title='Casute englezesti'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SNlfhig_IFI/AAAAAAAAAAs/9rveG2sLyoQ/s72-c/IMG_0104.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-697984003189534527</id><published>2008-09-19T15:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T15:10:35.903-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sis...this is for you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SNQjHAmrF_I/AAAAAAAAAAc/8FLUnRJ-DZY/s1600-h/IMG_0579.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247858069121734642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SNQjHAmrF_I/AAAAAAAAAAc/8FLUnRJ-DZY/s400/IMG_0579.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mariucoooo....imaginea...iti pare cunoscuta?hmmm?where you lead...I will follow...anywhere...???Pupici&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-697984003189534527?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/697984003189534527/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=697984003189534527' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/697984003189534527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/697984003189534527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/09/sisthis-is-for-you.html' title='Sis...this is for you...'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SNQjHAmrF_I/AAAAAAAAAAc/8FLUnRJ-DZY/s72-c/IMG_0579.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-4416335384029805554</id><published>2008-09-18T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-19T08:43:46.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a fresher!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SNPIo71HT7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/nDupjCnD17w/s1600-h/IMG_0581.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247758596397551538" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SNPIo71HT7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/nDupjCnD17w/s320/IMG_0581.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ta daaaaa!!!Azi a fost prima zi de scoala!Sunt o tona de lucruri de spus asa ca nu prea stiu de unde sa incep!Desi este imens si este destul de dificil sa ma orientez in el, campusul este superb!Spatii verzi, copii plantati pe sub copaci care citesc carti, cladiri moderne, pancarte, societati pentru studenti...ce mai...tot ce iti poti dori!&lt;br /&gt;Totul a inceput la 8:30,ora la care am fost programati noi (studentii internationali) sa fim la registration, iar dupa un micuuut tur al campusului am fost invitati la cantina sa bem o cafea (si noi ca studentii). Si uite asa am descoperit eu ca profesorii englezi iau micul dejun la facultate, dimineata, o portie maaare maare de fasole...da..da...am zis fasole...dimineata.(tatal lui radu a sugerat subtil ca asta ii tine propulsati pe englezi pana seara :)))&lt;br /&gt;Dupa un discurs de "bine-ati-venit-la-CCCU" a urmat sortarea pe grupe, mai exact pe culori in functie de numele nostru de familie. Am fost repartizati catre diversi indrumatori, am primit o harta a campusului (care repet, e urias), si am pornit spre primul discurs care avea sa fie sustinut de catre directoarea facultatii. O ora in care am fost instruiti de programul pe care il vam avea in urmatoarele zile, locatiile ceve mai importante ale campusului, locurile in care ne vor fi verificate actele, cand, cum si unde vom primi id-urile noastre, parolele pentru internet s.a.m.d.&lt;br /&gt;In sfarsit am reusit sa-mi fac cont la banca (Lloyd's), pentru simplul fapt ca a fost instalata o filiala temporara pentru studenti in interiorul facultatii. Asa ca in sfarsit o sa pot sa ma angajez cu acte in regula ( in Anglia ca sa faci orice ai nevoie de cont in UK).&lt;br /&gt;Dupa care am avut program de voie, insa am fost informati in prealabil ca cel mai bun lucru pe care putem sa-l facem este sa facem conostinta cu studenti (vechi sau noi nu conteaza), si sa ajungem sa cunoastem facultatea.&lt;br /&gt;Am studiat cu atentie programul si am vazut ca uniunea studentilor organizase un "free lunch", si cum deja simteam un semi-disconfort in stomac m-am indreptat hotarata spre locul cu pricina. N-am apucat sa mestec mai mult de 10 secunde pateul meu englezesc, pana cand o domnisoara care avea un accent englezesc deosebit de accentuat, a inceput procesul de "bonding". Discutii despre cursuri, profesori, program, ( intre timp am aflat ca duduia face parte dintr-un consiliu crestin), am aflat o gramada de lucruri folositoare. Impartasindu-i dorinta mea de a-mi gasi un job cat mai repede, mi-a facut cunostinta cu alti studenti care s-au dovedit a fi foarte fericiti sa ma indrume catre diferite locatii unde stiau ei de anunturi sau posibilitati de angajare.&lt;br /&gt;Sistemul englez de invatamant reuseste sa fie foarte bine organizat si in acelasi timp, sa inspire si un sentiment de libertate.Ca student, esti incurajat sa te implici in cat mai multe proiecte, sa cunosti oameni, sa inveti sa ai o minte deschisa. Tot personalul facultatii sta la dispozitia noastra, zi si noapte. Si nimeni nu se supara daca pui intrebari sau ai anumite nelamuriri.&lt;br /&gt;Campusul, clasele, cantina, studiourile de muzica si arta, terenul de sport...totul pare scos dintr-un film american in care este prezentata viata de student.&lt;br /&gt;Lucrul care mie imi place cel mai mult la CCCU este muuultimeaaa de nationalitati diferite. Peste 60. Imi place ideea de diversitate. In fine.&lt;br /&gt;Maine aflam mai multe despre actele care trebuiesc completate pentru a lucra legal in UK. Sambata o sa fim inregistrati ca elevi in interiorul facultatii si vom primi id-urile, iar de luni vom fi oficial studenti.&lt;br /&gt;In mini-excursia mea de scanare a facultatii am descoperit unde este spatiul destinat parcarii bicicletelor, asa ca de luni voi merge la scoala cu noua mea bicicleta roz ( era la reduceri). Insa nu pe strada pentru ca inca sunt un pic buimacita de faza cu "condusul pe partea gresita", dar asta nu e o problema pentru ca aici au piste speciale pentru biciclete, care trec prin parcul central al orasului.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pana una alta ma bucur de saptamanile in care sunt o prospatura. (Fresher's weeks)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crista.&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Promit ca maine pun poze cu facultatea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-4416335384029805554?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/4416335384029805554/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=4416335384029805554' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/4416335384029805554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/4416335384029805554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-fresher.html' title='I&apos;m a fresher!!!'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SNPIo71HT7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/nDupjCnD17w/s72-c/IMG_0581.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-6329369086106130001</id><published>2008-09-11T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-11T14:21:33.713-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Episodul 1...Crista in bucatarie</title><content type='html'>Tin neaparat sa va impartasesc intamplarea de azi. Cum nu prea mai aveam mancare gatita, am decis sa gatesc copanelele de pui ce sedeau de ceva timp in frigider. Niciodata nu am fost un as in bucatarie cu toate ca ma descurc sa fac unele feluri de mancare ( si unele chiar ies mancabile). Am ales tigaia in care aveam sa pun la cuptor puiul, am condimentat copanelele si am bagat oala la grill (pentru ca in momentul acela cuptorul se razvratise impotriva mea si nu voia sa se aprinda). Totul mergea bine asa ca am decis sa merg in sufragerie sa ma uit la ceva la TV, stiind ca dureaza ceva timp pana puiul face crusta. Dupa 10 minute m-am dus sa vad ce mai face, si jur pe ce am mai scump ca nu am tinut usa de la bucatarie deschisa pentru mai mult de un minut, ca a si inceput sa zornaie casa. Bipaituri si piuituri din toate directiile. Pentru cateva secunde m-am simtit ca un infractor care spargea o banca. Danny, Heather si Radu au iesit imediat din camera, evident enervati de boacana pe care eu tocmai o comisesem. Dupa ce am deschis geamul de la bucatarie (repet nu era nici un pic de fum) detectorul de fum s-a oprit. Extraordinar de rusinata am balbait ceva cu un "sorry, can you believe how loud that was" si m-am intors bosumflata la puiul meu. Heather a tras un ochi in cuptor si a zis ferm "I wouldn't eat that thing" si s-a intors la ea in camera unde o astepta o pizza prefabricata. Dupa o ora si ceva eu si Radu ne-am mancat cina buclucasa (care nu s-a dovedit a fi prea gustoasa, dar pe cuvant eu chiar mi-am dat silinta), un pui care avea gust de abator, chiar asa condimentat cum era si un orez de la Uncle Ben's, care speram sa fie mai bun decat a fost. Asta este, ne multumim cu ce avem.&lt;br /&gt;Pana una alta pui mai avem si pentru maine. La fel si orez.&lt;br /&gt;Cu alte cuvinte am vrut sa va transmit ca englezii nu numai ca au detectoare de fum in toata casa, dar le fac si al naibii de zgomotoase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pupici afumati.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-6329369086106130001?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/6329369086106130001/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=6329369086106130001' title='1 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/6329369086106130001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/6329369086106130001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/09/episodul-1crista-in-bucatarie.html' title='Episodul 1...Crista in bucatarie'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-7751616401988352094</id><published>2008-09-10T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T16:23:17.808-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Somn usor...si vise ciufulite..oricand...oricum</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SMhPb4VOZ_I/AAAAAAAAAAM/-oKKwJc4RPU/s1600-h/IMG_0656.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244529106469414898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SMhPb4VOZ_I/AAAAAAAAAAM/-oKKwJc4RPU/s320/IMG_0656.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prima data cand am ajuns in Canterbury, si am stat in casuta de pe strada Wincheap m-am confruntat cu o situatie un pic bizara. Cum casa este pozitionata la marginea intersectiei a doua strazi, vedeam toate masinile care treceau prin fata casei, si mereu aveam impresia ca vor intra in dormitorul meu (curba pe care o iau tirurile este foarte stramta). Un alt detaliu important de mentionat este faptul ca strada Wincheap este cea mai intens circulata din tot orasul, prin simplul fapt ca face legatura intre Canterbury si Ashford.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Un lucru care ma amuza de fiecare data cand ma gandesc, este numele strazilor din oras. Eu stau pe Castigaieftin, parcarea din fata casei este parcarea vacii (Cow Lane Car Park), in centrul orasului este strada Trandafirului, si in partea cealalta a orasului este strada ratei (Duck Lane).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Prima noapte de somn a fost groaznica. Dormit in alt pat, alta casa, trezit cu lumina-n ochi, diferenta intre fusele orare, si mai ales zgomotele masinilor ce treceau prin fata casei au facut ca acea noapte sa ramana in memoria mea. Am deschis ochii la ora 6. Am mai incercat sa dorm insa nu mi-a iesit. La 7:30 am fost in picioare. Eu Buznea Cristina Ana, care nu am ajuns niciodata la timp in clasa a 12-a la scoala, stateam pe canapea in sufragerie, la ora 7 dimineata cu un ceai care depasise cu mult normele normale de zahar pe care un ceai obisnuit trebuie sa il aiba si nu stiam ce sa fac. M-am tot holbat vreo 5 minute la diversele bibelouri din casa, asteptand parca sa primesc instructiuni ce sa fac, dupa care mi-a venit ideea instant. C.V. De gasit job. Si asta am tot facut. Procesul de angajare aici este destul de lent si de greoi (mai ales pentru studentii internationali), asa ca probabil va ma dura ceva timp pana ma voi angaja.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Intre timp am batut cu piciorul tot orasul. Diminetile parca nu mai sunt asa de zgomotoase si de luminoase. Numai asa se poate explica cum am reusit sa ma trezesc si mai tarziu de ora 10.:D. Am invatat sa dorm ascultand in fundal motoare de tir. Asta da performanta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Va salut prieteneste. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cristulici&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-7751616401988352094?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/7751616401988352094/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=7751616401988352094' title='0 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/7751616401988352094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/7751616401988352094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/09/somn-usorsi-vise-ciufuliteoricandoricum.html' title='Somn usor...si vise ciufulite..oricand...oricum'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SMhPb4VOZ_I/AAAAAAAAAAM/-oKKwJc4RPU/s72-c/IMG_0656.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-812616848347640333</id><published>2008-09-06T12:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T13:11:52.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vremea in UK</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Tot am auzit zilele astea, ca vine musonul in Anglia. Au tot fost ploicele mici si rare, ba soare, ba ploaie, da nici urma de muson. Asa ca astazi, am luat fericita decizie sa imi continui vanatoarea de job-uri pe care am inceput-o acum cateva zile. Plin de soare, un oras numai turisti, esarfe colorate, zambete, job-uri disponibile, aplicatii, angajati prietenosi, ce mai...o zi demna de romanele fratilor Grimm. M-am plimbat, am admirat, am zambit prietenos in jurul meu, si ma gandeam... What a wonderful world.&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Dupa 3-4 ore de intrat in magazine si vorbit cu angajati, am decis, cu sufletul usor ca ar cam fi cazul sa ma indrept spre casa. Cand ma uit la cer, vad un val de norisori nu tocmai albi si pufosi, indreptandu-se rapid inspre mine. M-am uitat la ei si am zis "nici sa nu te gandesti", si mi-am continuat fericita drumul spre casa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Paranteza pntru explicatii ( In drum spre Anglia am facut un pact cu mine insumi ca nu o sa ma deranjeze in niciun fel vremea ploiasa si nesuferita de aici)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Revenind. Cand mai aveam fix 5 minute pana acasa, am simtit o picatura pe obraz. Apoi inca una. Si apoi inca una cu mai mare intensitate. Mi-am zis "las ca mai suport eu inca 5 minutele". Si-apoi sa vezi ploaie....si ce ploaieee, si eu tot stateam asa, fara umbrela fara nimic, sperand sa se mai domoleasca.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Nici vorba. Cu ga-lea-ta. Un pic, dar doar un pic suparata ca ploaia nu tine niciodata cu mine, mi-am scos umbrela. Repet 300 de metri pana la casa. Umbrela mea frumoasa, cumparata ieri, albastrsta cu dungulite albe, sa zbatea si se sucea pe toate partile parca incercand sa-mi explice incapacitatea ei de a functiona in momentul de fata. Cu toate ca ploaia ma ataca pe toate partile, vedeam in jurul meu&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; numai&lt;/span&gt; oameni care mergeau fara umbrela. Englezi. Si atunci, mi-a venit instant in minte dansul lui Sinatra prin ploaie. Cata fericire. Cat haz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Am ajuns pe aleea in fata casei insotita de un fundal sonor asigurat de catre adidasii mei care lasau in urma sunetele unui "fleosch...fleosch" englezesc. Am deschis zambitoare usa casei, si in timp ce urcam scarile spre camera mea, mi-am adus aminte vorbele inteleptului Radu, de ieri si de alaltaieri si de raspoieri.... "Vine musonul". Adevarat a venit. Haz de necaz oameni buni. Dar asa ploaie, mai rar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Dupa 5 minute dupa ce am intrat in casa s-a oprit. Ma simteam murata. Mi-am zis ca de acum incolo o sa iau in serios vremea englezeasca. Si asa o sa fac.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Va salut prietenos, de aici, din camera, unde e cald si bine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Crista&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-812616848347640333?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/812616848347640333/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=812616848347640333' title='3 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/812616848347640333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/812616848347640333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/09/vremea-in-uk.html' title='Vremea in UK'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1201471366938682412.post-7287605029640159576</id><published>2008-09-02T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T13:08:37.055-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Inceput de British Experience</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Dupa un lung drum de aproape o saptmana in care am vizitat Viena, Parisul si Londra, am ajuns in Canterbury ( oraselul mcut de langa Londra unde aveam sa-mi petrec studiind management-ul in turism, 3 ani din viata). Soare. Frumos afara. Oameni politicosi. Accent englezesc. Ce pot sa spun mai mult?&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Ne-am acomodat repede, chiriasa fiind o persoana foarte deschisa si dornica in a ne ajuta sa ne simtim cat mai bine in noua noastra casa. Si uite asa, am despachetat, am cumparat cateva lucruri de la Morrison's si Homebase ca sa mai improspatam aspectul camerei. Dimineata, a doua zi, m-m trezit de la zgomotul masinilor care circula prin fata casei, pe strada Wincheap (castiga ieftin) pe la ora 7 , simtind un puternic dor de mirosul parcului IOR. Am cumparat cartele, si am sunat acasa ca sa-i anunt pe cei dragi e sosirea mea in UK.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seara le-am cunoscut mai bine pe cele doua colege de casa, despre care am aflat ca se vor muta in timp scurt din casa asta. Alice,21 de ani, nascuta in Kenya, venita in UK pentru a studia designul interior, o fata deosebit de draguta, a reusit sa ne ransmita cele mai importante informatii legate de viata de student in Marea Britanie. Elly, nascuta in Bangladesh dar rezidenta in UK de la varsta de 1 an, m-a fermecat cu accentul ei englezesc care imi aducea perfect aminte de Eiza Dooliltle (post studiu alaturi de Higgings). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Canterbury este un oras fermecaor in toate punctele de vedere. Totul este curat, verde sau micut. Centrul orasului pare a fi ca de basm, magazinele sunt mici casute care dateaza din anii 1700+, organizarea lor amintindu-mi foarte mult de Aleea Diagon (vezi Harry Potter).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Plin de trubaduri tineri care tin sa se exprime prin intermediul cantecelor, si care vor, bineinteles ca castige un ban in plus. Am vizitat facultatile noastre, sau mai bine zis am trecut pe langa ele, deoarece in perioada asta a anului oamenii inca se mai afla in vacanta. Am vazut o minuscula parte din CCCU, descoperind astfel suprafata imensa pe care se intinde facultateamea.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Cat despre mancare, aici se pot spune foarte multe lucruri. Incercam sa mancam cat mai sanatos, cumparam fructe, iaurturi, am avut si o tentativa cu laptele organic, natural, pe care eu l-am ales, in speranta de a savura gutul autentic al laptelui romanesc. Ei bine, n-a fost asa. Chiar impreuna cu cacao gusturile nu se asemanau. Puiul rotisat nu are gust de pui rotisat, insa am fost avertizati de catre Alice ca va trece o perioada pane ne vom acomoda cu gusturile mancarurilor din UK.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;O alta chestie ciudata rau este instalatia. Baie si bucatarie. Robinetele de apa calda si rece sunt separate, prin urmare spalatul vaselor este o adevarata testare a capacitatii de suportare a temperaturii. Super rece si super fierbinte. Spre fericirea mea am descoperit o modalitate de spalare a vaselor eficienta care implica un du-te-vino intre robinetul de apa fierbinte si cel de apa rece.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Un lucru pe care il apreciez foarte mult la Anglia este, atentia pe care cetatenii o acorda mediului inconjurator. Tot ce se poate recicla, se recicleaza. Pungi diferite de gunoi. Ore de ridicare a gunoiului. Diferentierea produselor care se arunca in pungile de reciclare de cele care se arunca pur si simplu. Multa multa atentie pentru mediul inconjurator. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Intre timp am reusit sa racesc. Beau multe ceaiuri si iau vitamina C. Climatul englezesc a reusit sa ma doboare insa pentru putin timp. In scurt timp preconizez ca ma voi simti mai bine si voi merge la job-hunting (asa cum se spune pe-aici).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Pana una alta incerc sa scriu, deoarece imi doresc sa transmit cat mai mult din tot ce experimentez aici. Promit sa postez cat pot de mult. Salut si imbratiez familionul si Romania.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Crista&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;P.S Crista cu accent englezesc = bleach ( chiar suna aiurea)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1201471366938682412-7287605029640159576?l=cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/feeds/7287605029640159576/comments/default' title='Postare comentarii'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1201471366938682412&amp;postID=7287605029640159576' title='4 comentarii'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/7287605029640159576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1201471366938682412/posts/default/7287605029640159576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cristasbritishexperience.blogspot.com/2008/09/inceput-de-british-experience.html' title='Inceput de British Experience'/><author><name>crista021</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16097764273411724910</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_IXuY1VPeObk/SeH5tNs3vNI/AAAAAAAAADo/X0wjrCNuT54/S220/IMG_0690.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
