Today was day 1 with Skywest. Day 1 of induction (which took up the morning) and CPL Law (which took up the afternoon).
By the way, if you have a problem with a) my punctuation and b) my grammar - send an email to email@example.com
Back to today.
We met lots of people this morning, during Induction. The CEO, COO, HOFO etc. If you know what those are, you're doing really really well. They were all fairly pleasant, and we received lots of threats about hats. Or namely, the lack of them. The HOFO (ok, for those who don't - like me to start off with - dont understand, this is translated as Head of Flight Operations) explained that we could either wear ALL of our uniform, or none at all. The majority of us decided that walking through the airport stark naked was definitely preferable. It appears that Skywest - and Virgin in particular - take their 'professional appearance' very seriously.
After the Induction, and the DoNotBreakAnyOfOurRulesEver lecture, we started into the real work, namely Air Law. We have 3 days to master this subject... after which, on Friday morning, we sit the exam. Unsurprisingly, the majority of the previous class (last month) failed this subject, although for many of them this could be put down to a language barrier, as the questions are not exactly easy to read. Lots of RTFQ=1/2BA. Apparently, it's a 3 strike you're out policy with the exams, from now on - some people are apparently on take 3.
We have 30 days in this apartment. Or rather, I have 3 days in this apartment, and everyone else also has 30 days in their individual apartments. We have to set up a bank account, find somewhere to live, find a car, get measured for uniforms, get IDs, pass 4 exams, get tax numbers, get our medicals sorted out... the list is endless. And most of these things can't be sorted until one has either an address... or proof of salary, or something that you can't actually have until you have one of the others... and vice versa. Hmmm.
Im afraid today's is a very boring post, but then, so was today, and I feel that you should at least feel some of my pain. If writing this post and forcing you to read it is the only way I can make you suffer, so be it.
Now that I have finished stuffing my face, I must leave you for...
Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;
Or close the wall up with our English dead!
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man,
As modest stillness and humility;
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger:
Stiffen the sinews, conjure up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage:
Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;
Let it pry through the portage of the head,
Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a galled rock
O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide;
Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English,
Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!
Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from morn till even fought,
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument.
Dishonour not your mothers: now attest,
That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your pasture: let us swear
That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit; and upon this charge,
Cry 'God for Harry! England! and Saint George!'