Swinglish

Almost there.

Penultimate shift at work tomorrow. Already cleaned my locker out, blagged enough proofs and slightly damaged books to last me well into next year. Had a few goodbyes already from a few staff leaving before Friday. I'm really going to miss a few of the perks that we have (not that they make up for the criminally low pay we get, but still), such as blagging an advance reading copy of the your favourite author's new title several months before it goes on official release.

Relatives flew in from Sweden this evening. T'is really confusing for any visitor to our living room at the moment. My Swedish is a bit rusty still, so I can understand way more than I can speak still. Aunt & uncle speak to me in Swedish, I reply in English, Swedish, or 'Swinglish' depending on how complicated the subject is. Mum flicks between English & Swedish, translating for dad, as do aunt & uncle. Then Dad chimes in in English with occasional smatterings of pigeon-Swedish he's picked up along the way.

It's all very confusing.

I spook the hell out of Swedish backpackers when travelling. The last language they expect a Brit to speak is Swedish, so many a hostel I've been in I've heard them bitching away about someone or something. Suddenly piping-up and throwing some Swedish language at them, whilst they were comfortable in the knowledge that you didn't know a damn thing they were saying, is rather satisfying to say the least - just to see the look on their faces.