I did four interviews this week, spent hours chatting it up with my potential boss, and spent significant amounts of time trying to restrain myself from giggling when words like "bollocks" were used. All in all, a good week.

...
Interview #2

"So, Lina, what do you think you will need to do to prepare yourself for this new position?"

I think for a minute. This is, after all, an interview with my boss's boss. "Well," I say finally, "I think I'm going to need to work on my alcohol tolerance."

...
Meeting with my new boss

"So what else am I going to need to know before I start this new job?" I ask, in all seriousness. I've been voraciously devouring Powerpoint documents and studying reports as if my life depended on it.

"You're going to have to start watching cricket."
"What?" I asked, confused. "I was being serious."
"So was I," he replied. "You're really going to have to learn about cricket."

...
Around midnight, at a club. After running into one of the men that interviewed me the day before, I begin to merrily harass him about how he would rate my interviewing skills.

He considers me for a moment and then said, "Lina, I think you are going to fit in well in our office."

"How's that?" I ask, pie-eyed.

"Well, you're double-fisting your drinks, and you just tried to kiss me on the mouth.*"

Well played Lina, well played.

...
*Just to state the obvious, I did not actually try to kiss my boss's boss on the mouth. I think he may have tried to do some strange European custom of kissing my cheek as a greeting, and like a frightened American deer, I turned my head at the wrong moment.