England Made Me Cry... Again

Mood: Beaten down, worn down
Theme Song: "Nothing is Good Enough" - Aimee Mann

Before I spend the next bit complaining and moaning about all things English, I have to start with the good news - and that is that my broadband should be ready to go as of 4th March. Now, I probably won't be home to receive the router, and thus will ahve to chase it all around town at the UK post offices, BUT the good news is that its coming.  Of course, its just in time for me to be gone for 3 straight weeks for work.

Now, on to why England made me cry, again. My company does this weird thing with Occupational Health to cerify that you are fit for employment or something. And since I don't have a GP yet (they are only open when I'm at work), I got a letter saying I had to go to this doctor's appointment and be examined by a UK doctor. Now, there are three things about this that piss me off:
1) I gave them all my information so they could contact my US doctor on January 6th
2) The appointment is in freaking Chislehurst - which is about 1h15m drive away (so I'm looking at about 3 hours in the car)
3) No one at the doctor's office could tell me exactly why I needed to be examined. Each person I spoke to said they hadn't read my file, it wasn't their job, so sorry.

So tomorrow I get to drive to Chislehurst for my doctor's appointment that I have no idea why I'm having. GRRRRRR. I don't know what it was about this situation, but I literally broke down in tears at my desk. I think its a combination of several things - I'm a bit homesick, my workload is insane, it hasn't stopped raining in days and I'm just generally in a bit of a funk.

Ok, enough griping and complaining. Some funny, positive things -

• I have tried a Scotch Egg. My recommendation? DON'T. I guess they are considered a delicacy here, but it... was... nasty. What is a scotch egg you ask? Well, its not an egg covered in scotch tape (crossed my mind!). Sorry, England, I tried, but I nearly gagged on it.

Scotch egg consists of a shelled hard-boiled egg, wrapped in a sausage meat mixture, coated in breadcrumbs, and deep-fried. Scotch eggs are commonly eaten cold, typically with salad and pickles. Contrary to popular belief (and despite being the butt of a number of English comedians' jokes about the Scottish diet), Scotch Eggs were actually invented by the famous London department store, Fortnum & Mason in 1851.

• I'm still scared by British nightclubs - or at least the one I have visited twice now in Canterbury. Apparently there is another one that is better, but to be honest it wouldn't take a lot to be an improvement on overpriced drinks, cold bathrooms, groping men and bad 80s techno pop. I have never heard such bad music - not even the one time I ventured into Oscar's in the Cincinnati. I hate to say it but I miss my dive bar in Mill Creek.
• When I took the train to London the other day, I mis-read the sign and ended up standing on the wrong platform, by myself, for ages. I thought the sign said Platform 2, and instead it was telling me that my train was coming 2nd. I had loads of people staring at me because I was on the "arrivals" platform, but looking really ready to depart!
• I apparently can't make a decent cup of tea. I was made fun of for drinking "fancy Breakfast tea". I didn't realize there was an art form to boiling water and pouring it over some tea bags, but apparently there is. This is coming from the country that thinks lemonade is some kind of disgusting carbonated nonnsense.

I realize this post lacks the usual entertainment value, and for this I apologise. I'm tired, grumpy and ready to find a descendant of Napoleon who is still feeling bitter so I can wage war on the United Kingdom. ;) I'm sure by tomorrow I'll be fine - assuming I survive my epic drive.

Federman out (and I pity any fools who mess with me tonight).

England Made Me Cry... Again

Mood: Beaten down, worn down
Theme Song: “Nothing is Good Enough” - Aimee Mann

Before I spend the next bit complaining and moaning about all things English, I have to start with the good news - and that is that my broadband should be ready to go as of 4th March. Now, I probably won’t be home to receive the router, and thus will ahve to chase it all around town at the UK post offices, BUT the good news is that its coming.  Of course, its just in time for me to be gone for 3 straight weeks for work.

Now, on to why England made me cry, again. My company does this weird thing with Occupational Health to cerify that you are fit for employment or something. And since I don’t have a GP yet (they are only open when I’m at work), I got a letter saying I had to go to this doctor’s appointment and be examined by a UK doctor. Now, there are three things about this that piss me off:
1) I gave them all my information so they could contact my US doctor on January 6th
2) The appointment is in freaking Chislehurst - which is about 1h15m drive away (so I’m looking at about 3 hours in the car)
3) No one at the doctor’s office could tell me exactly why I needed to be examined. Each person I spoke to said they hadn’t read my file, it wasn’t their job, so sorry.

So tomorrow I get to drive to Chislehurst for my doctor’s appointment that I have no idea why I’m having. GRRRRRR. I don’t know what it was about this situation, but I literally broke down in tears at my desk. I think its a combination of several things - I’m a bit homesick, my workload is insane, it hasn’t stopped raining in days and I’m just generally in a bit of a funk.

Ok, enough griping and complaining. Some funny, positive things -

• I have tried a Scotch Egg. My recommendation? DON’T. I guess they are considered a delicacy here, but it… was… nasty. What is a scotch egg you ask? Well, its not an egg covered in scotch tape (crossed my mind!). Sorry, England, I tried, but I nearly gagged on it.

Scotch egg consists of a shelled hard-boiled egg, wrapped in a sausage meat mixture, coated in breadcrumbs, and deep-fried. Scotch eggs are commonly eaten cold, typically with salad and pickles. Contrary to popular belief (and despite being the butt of a number of English comedians’ jokes about the Scottish diet), Scotch Eggs were actually invented by the famous London department store, Fortnum & Mason in 1851.

• I’m still scared by British nightclubs - or at least the one I have visited twice now in Canterbury. Apparently there is another one that is better, but to be honest it wouldn’t take a lot to be an improvement on overpriced drinks, cold bathrooms, groping men and bad 80s techno pop. I have never heard such bad music - not even the one time I ventured into Oscar’s in the Cincinnati. I hate to say it but I miss my dive bar in Mill Creek.
• When I took the train to London the other day, I mis-read the sign and ended up standing on the wrong platform, by myself, for ages. I thought the sign said Platform 2, and instead it was telling me that my train was coming 2nd. I had loads of people staring at me because I was on the “arrivals” platform, but looking really ready to depart!
• I apparently can’t make a decent cup of tea. I was made fun of for drinking “fancy Breakfast tea”. I didn’t realize there was an art form to boiling water and pouring it over some tea bags, but apparently there is. This is coming from the country that thinks lemonade is some kind of disgusting carbonated nonnsense.

I realize this post lacks the usual entertainment value, and for this I apologise. I’m tired, grumpy and ready to find a descendant of Napoleon who is still feeling bitter so I can wage war on the United Kingdom. ;) I’m sure by tomorrow I’ll be fine - assuming I survive my epic drive.

Federman out (and I pity any fools who mess with me tonight).

Monday Madness

Mood: Tired
Theme Song: "Never Scared" - Bone Crusher

I know my many fans have been requesting an update and I apologise for keeping you waiting. The lack of internet access at my house is driving me crazy. I have a USB stick from work that gives me - sometimes - a blazing fast 7MB worth of speed. Which basically means I can get to about 2 web pages an hour. (Side note: how did we ever live with dial-up?!) I promise to write more tomorrow when I have a bit more time. I've been swamped today at work - meetings and conference calls galore. And we all know how much I like to sit still and pay attention!

A quick note - on Friday I met up with the girls on my street for happy hour. It's basically a Pfizer unofficial event - their campus holds about 3,000 people and so its always random as to who shows up. At one point, sitting at my table were people from U.S. (me!), France, India, Australia, Germany, Japan and Africa (Zimbabwe). Later on, we got a few English and Scottish people too. It was a fascinating evening, and I just love how multicultural Canterbury is! My joke was that in the states, there would be a bunch of people around the table but it would be seen as exotic if you got someone from across the country - and really lucky if you got a Canadian or two.

I did find an answer to my weird roundabout question on how I handle that tricky 2nd exit. Basically that's viewed as "going straight" and so I don't have to use any signal! The entertainment continues!!

More tomorrow, I promise. I can also promise quite a bit of profanity as I'm going to start in on my taxes then, too. Grrrr....

Federman out.

Monday Madness

Mood: Tired
Theme Song: “Never Scared” - Bone Crusher

I know my many fans have been requesting an update and I apologise for keeping you waiting. The lack of internet access at my house is driving me crazy. I have a USB stick from work that gives me - sometimes - a blazing fast 7MB worth of speed. Which basically means I can get to about 2 web pages an hour. (Side note: how did we ever live with dial-up?!) I promise to write more tomorrow when I have a bit more time. I’ve been swamped today at work - meetings and conference calls galore. And we all know how much I like to sit still and pay attention!

A quick note - on Friday I met up with the girls on my street for happy hour. It’s basically a Pfizer unofficial event - their campus holds about 3,000 people and so its always random as to who shows up. At one point, sitting at my table were people from U.S. (me!), France, India, Australia, Germany, Japan and Africa (Zimbabwe). Later on, we got a few English and Scottish people too. It was a fascinating evening, and I just love how multicultural Canterbury is! My joke was that in the states, there would be a bunch of people around the table but it would be seen as exotic if you got someone from across the country - and really lucky if you got a Canadian or two.

I did find an answer to my weird roundabout question on how I handle that tricky 2nd exit. Basically that’s viewed as “going straight” and so I don’t have to use any signal! The entertainment continues!!

More tomorrow, I promise. I can also promise quite a bit of profanity as I’m going to start in on my taxes then, too. Grrrr….

Federman out.

All the Small Things

Mood: Restless
Theme Song: "How Soon is Now?" - The Smiths

Today marks my very first British "snow day". We started getting quite a bit of snow yesterday afternoon and so I left work around 4 so I could make it home before dark. I stopped by the Morrison's (grocery store) to drop of my dry cleaning (they have a dry cleaner's inside, how cool!) and pick up a few things. Just like in the U.S., there was mass panic going on, with most of it centered around the milk, bread and egg areas. Which makes me wonder - if I was trapped in my house due to a cataclysmic snowstorm, I don't think I'm going to be making French toast all the live long day. Oh, and total sidenote, but British eggs are not refrigerated. They are out on the shelves with the canned goods and whatnot. Strange, huh! Anyway, I made it out of the store alive (and yes, with my very own bread and milk - I didn't need eggs because I had bought half a dozen from a lady at work who has a farm... no joke! And those eggs are the bomb, too!) and got home in one piece. 

Fast forward to this morning, when I awoke after sleeping on my nice new bed (which was delivered yesterday; of course I had to assemble it myself - this being England and all). I took one look outside and decided it was a jeans and wellies kind of day. (Wellies = wellingtons = tall rubber boots, which I never understood until moving to England. They are perfect for rain and snow and tromping all over.) I got dressed, packed my lunch and headed outside into the cold and snow. I found Le Car (my affectionate name for my Peugeot) covered in about 6" (that's roughly 15cm) of snow. And I realized I had no scraper or brush. So I used a credit card and some elbow grease to clean off the windows and the hood (oh, I'm sorry, the "bonnet"). Got in, fired up the heat, put my coordinates into the GPS and set off. I was supposed to be going to our Hythe office today so I was going a new route. Which I quickly realised involved several of the dreaded "B" roads (see earlier posts for explanation). I was going to be brave and go for it, but about 1 mile into the trip, the snow started coming down in near blizzard-like conditions. I'm talking no visibility other than a sheet of fast moving white stuff. Even with my wipers on full speed, I could barely see the front of my own car, let alone the road or any other cars, so I quickly turned around and headed back home. That turned out to be a good thing since the hail started just after I got safely in my front door.

Around lunchtime, I walked into town (its a great walk and I was going stir-crazy just working on my computer and not having anyone to talk to/bother) and picked up some really exciting items like drain cleaner, an ice scraper and a bread knife. Did you know that you have to be over 18 to buy knives here? I don't mean bowie knives or the kind that every 5 year old has in Kentucky. I am talking steak knives and bread knives. And for alcohol, you can buy it at 18 but you have to look 21 - or something odd like that. I think its along the lines of our "card anyone who looks under 40" rule in the states, but its got a weird twist to it that I can't remember.

The weather has eased up and the sun actually made an appearance so the snow is melting. I think it will be safe to venture out tomorrow. I'm excited because I'm meeting the girls I hung out with last weekend for drinks. One of them organizes a big group thing at her company and its open to anyone who wants to come along - another chance to meet new people!

I have to give a shout out to my girl Andrea who sent me a great care box full of yummy American food - I now have my coveted Amy's Black Bean soup (going to have that tonight, in fact), Newman's Own Light Balsamic Vinaigrette and JIF Crunchy Reduced Fat peanut butter. And real Toothpaste!! The people at work were like, " We have Crest!" and I was like - yes, but you don't have THIS kind!! LOL. It's also funny to watch their faces when I hold up the peanut butter. They just don't get the magic of peanut butter! Sure, they'll put mayonnaise and butter on everything, but they're afraid of peanut butter. A woman I work with had her first taste of PB&J last week when I gave her a bite of my sandwich and she was shocked that it was actually good! I'm slowly winning people over that yes, there are some cool things that Americans do that you should maybe try too.

Before I share some hilarity, I just have to try to explain the weird-ass British phone billing system if I can. In the UK, you are charged different prices depending on who/where you're calling. Sounds familiar, right? Nope. Try to stay with me as I explain this. A landline to landline call is a fixed rate - unless you're calling a number that starts with a certain exchange. I can't remember what these are exactly but the closest US equivalent I can think of is a 900 number. But not really, because these exchanges aren't for risque services or anything. It's hard to explain. But for example, the phone numbers to letting agencies say underneath "calls to this number will be charged at 5p/min" or something similar. So even though you pay a monthly line rental fee, you pay for your calls on top of that. Unless you spring for an unlimited package, which covers you for most of your calls - except... calls to mobile phones. If you call a mobile phone from a landline, you're going to get charged up the wazoo. I'm not sure why, I just know this to be a truth. I don't know why calls to mobile phones aren't covered under the "unlimited" package, but they're not.

Here is what my Sky Talk Unlimited package provides (though I can't say for sure because the bloody shagging wankers at BT won't be here until FEBRUARY FRICKIN' 23RD!!! to set up my phone line) - check out how they charge weird prices for calls to certain exchanges. Also remember that 1p = 1.5 cents. Also, all fo these fun charges are on top of the £11/month "line rental" fee and the £5/month "Sky Talk Unlimited" fee.

• Unlimited calls to UK landlines 24/7. UK calls apply to 01, 02, 03 and 0870 numbers only (exlcudes all calls to Channel Islands, indirect and dial-up Internet access numbers and 070 numbers). Calls to other 08 numbers cost no more than 10p per minute, with a maximum connection fee of 10p. Calls to 070 numbers cost no more than 48p per minute with a maximum connection fee of 50p. Full tariff details at Sky.com/skytalk. "Free" and "unlimited" calls last up to an hour, after which UK calls are charged at 5.25p per minute at any time of day and international calls at Sky Talk international standard rates, or you can hang up and redial as often as you like. (My question - so why can't you just talk continuously? What does hanging up do??)
• 20% cheaper call rates to UK mobiles compared to Sky Talk Freetime. (See! You have to pay to call a mobile phone... weird!!!)
• Unlimited calls to 20 popular international destinations (Unlimited international landline calls to 20 countries: Australia, Austria, Belgium, Canada, Czech Republic, Denmark, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Ireland, Italy, Luxembourg, Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland and USA (also includes calls to mobiles in Canada and the USA) - to which I say YES!!! Thank heavens for that one, because most of my peeps don't even have landlines anymore
• Unlimited calls to Sky contact centres included at no extra charge. don't even know what this means...
• A 25% discount on calls to 118 759 directory enquires. Calls to 118759 cost 18.75 per minute (plus a 51.75p connection charge) for Sky Talk customers calling from their Sky Talk landline. (So a total cost of 70.50p - or roughly $1.05 for every British "411" call. I don't remember what it costs in the US but I think its close to being the same)

The cool thing is that once I get the phone and interwebs actually installed, because I have SKY TV too, I can access all kinds of cool features via my cable box. I know I can check my account, etc, but I also have access to local government services and a bunch of other things.

And now, what I'm sure you've all been waiting for, funny things that happened this week:

• My jacked up heating system. So here are some photos. One is of the closet where this heating system is located. The other is of the "timer" that I can't figure out and then there's the thermostat... which I think I just figured out has something to do with water temperature. BUT there's that white box (see picture of closet) which has a dial for thermostat and I don't know what on earth that does. Only thing I do know is that if the A light or B light start blinking, I better run for cover.

Today I tried to figure out my boiler vs. my heating boiler vs. my heating timer - and accidentally turned all my heat off. Didn't realize it until I started shivering.  I'm still not quite sure how to put the damn heat on the timer so I'm not wasting energy all day and being charged outrageous prices by the idiots at the utility company.

Which brings me to...

• Erin vs. British Gas. Fun fact: they don't read your meter here. You either have to read it every month and call/phone/text it in, or they will "estimate" it for you. By law, they are only required to read it every 18 months. When I heard this, I was not pleased. The conversation went something like this -

Me: I got a bill, but it says estimated. I think your people forgot to read my meter.
British Gas Lady on Phone (BGLP): No, we only read the meter every 18 months.
Me: What? Are you serious?
BGLP: Yes, that's the law. We will estimate your bill, or you can do a reading on the last day of each month and give us the number and we will calculate your bill for you.
Me: So, wait. You want me to do your job for you?
BGLP: No. It's not our job. It's your job.
Me: It's my job to read my own meter?! (voice rising)
BGLP: Yes.
Me: That's unethical.
BGLP: Miss, that's the law.
Me: Well then that's an unethical law. I get this bill and its estimated at a ridiculously high rate (Note: they are trying to charge me £30 for 10 days of gas - basically $45).
BGLP: Miss, its not unethical. We estimate based on the last tenant and overall usage in your area.
Me: That's just stupid.
BGLP: Miss, we --
Me: I mean, that's really really stupid. Its like what if you went out to eat and instead of giving you a menu with prices, I just served you some food and then "estimated" your bill based on how much people all around you were eating? And what if the people around you were all big and hungry?
BGLP: Miss, that's really uncalled for, we --
Me: I'm not saying you're fat and will eat alot. I'm just saying that its about as stupid as how you run things.
BGLP: (silence)
Me: So I guess my only choice is to do your job for you and give you my number every month or get ripped off because the person before me was a gas hog?
BGLP: Miss, you are always free to submit your meter readings.

The conversation continued in this vein for quite a while. I then called my Electric provider and it went sort of the same way. So I have no choice but to read my meter each month and give them the figures. But it makes me wonder, what's to stop me from calling one month and saying the meter reads 6735 and then the next month telling them it reads 6745, even though it really reads 6918 or something. Since they only roll their lazy butts out here every 18 months, how would they know? I'm not going to do that because I don't want any trouble with the UK authorities, but it doesn't seem like a very good system to me.

I struggle because I don't want to constantly be saying "Where I come from..." and acting like its better. But... it kinda is. I think part of it is that the U.S. is so new compared to the UK and Europe, and I think another part is the sheer size of the country and the economies of scale realized, but most of it is just the nature of America - and our "American-ness". As a people, we are used to choice and wanting the best. The free market system (that the Obamanation is doing its best to destroy) has given us the freedom to pick and choose what we want, and to demand good service. Not that we always get it - although most of the really bad service comes from government-run establishments (DMV, post office, IRS, etc)... which makes me wonder yet once again, why do we want the government involved in our health care system?

Oh, and here's another little fun factoid. I mentioned to a co-worker that I needed to find a Gyn so I could get my annual exam done, and I was greeted with a look of confusion. Ladies dont get annual exams over here. It's bi-annual, or every three years if you're lucky. The only way around that is if you have a documented history of issues with your lady business. And even then, it depends. Mammograms don't start until 50 and then its every 3 years for that, too. It seems that with the NHS, routine health maintenance is not as "routine" as I'm used to. Thank goodness my company provides provide health insurance on top of the NHS as one of our benefits.

Which does leave me thinking - if the NHS is so wonderful, and socialized medicine is the great panacea the Obamanation wants us to think it is, then why on earth is there private insurance? And why would a company provide it? In doing so - as a standard benefit - it seems that even my own company recognizes that the NHS doesn't make the grade and that for people to get any kind of decent care, they need a little something extra. Just some food for thought...

Federman out.

All the Small Things

Mood: Restless
Theme Song: “How Soon is Now?” - The Smiths

Today marks my very first British “snow day”. We started getting quite a bit of snow yesterday afternoon and so I left work around 4 so I could make it home before dark. I stopped by the Morrison’s (grocery store) to drop of my dry cleaning (they have a dry cleaner’s inside, how cool!) and pick up a few things. Just like in the U.S., there was mass panic going on, with most of it centered around the milk, bread and egg areas. Which makes me wonder - if I was trapped in my house due to a cataclysmic snowstorm, I don’t think I’m going to be making French toast all the live long day. Oh, and total sidenote, but British eggs are not refrigerated. They are out on the shelves with the canned goods and whatnot. Strange, huh! Anyway, I made it out of the store alive (and yes, with my very own bread and milk - I didn’t need eggs because I had bought half a dozen from a lady at work who has a farm… no joke! And those eggs are the bomb, too!) and got home in one piece. 

Fast forward to this morning, when I awoke after sleeping on my nice new bed (which was delivered yesterday; of course I had to assemble it myself - this being England and all). I took one look outside and decided it was a jeans and wellies kind of day. (Wellies = wellingtons = tall rubber boots, which I never understood until moving to England. They are perfect for rain and snow and tromping all over.) I got dressed, packed my lunch and headed outside into the cold and snow. I found Le Car (my affectionate name for my Peugeot) covered in about 6" (that’s roughly 15cm) of snow. And I realized I had no scraper or brush. So I used a credit card and some elbow grease to clean off the windows and the hood (oh, I’m sorry, the “bonnet”). Got in, fired up the heat, put my coordinates into the GPS and set off. I was supposed to be going to our Hythe office today so I was going a new route. Which I quickly realised involved several of the dreaded “B” roads (see earlier posts for explanation). I was going to be brave and go for it, but about 1 mile into the trip, the snow started coming down in near blizzard-like conditions. I’m talking no visibility other than a sheet of fast moving white stuff. Even with my wipers on full speed, I could barely see the front of my own car, let alone the road or any other cars, so I quickly turned around and headed back home. That turned out to be a good thing since the hail started just after I got safely in my front door.

Around lunchtime, I walked into town (its a great walk and I was going stir-crazy just working on my computer and not having anyone to talk to/bother) and picked up some really exciting items like drain cleaner, an ice scraper and a bread knife. Did you know that you have to be over 18 to buy knives here? I don’t mean bowie knives or the kind that every 5 year old has in Kentucky. I am talking steak knives and bread knives. And for alcohol, you can buy it at 18 but you have to look 21 - or something odd like that. I think its along the lines of our “card anyone who looks under 40” rule in the states, but its got a weird twist to it that I can’t remember.

The weather has eased up and the sun actually made an appearance so the snow is melting. I think it will be safe to venture out tomorrow. I’m excited because I’m meeting the girls I hung out with last weekend for drinks. One of them organizes a big group thing at her company and its open to anyone who wants to come along - another chance to meet new people!

I have to give a shout out to my girl Andrea who sent me a great care box full of yummy American food - I now have my coveted Amy’s Black Bean soup (going to have that tonight, in fact), Newman’s Own Light Balsamic Vinaigrette and JIF Crunchy Reduced Fat peanut butter. And real Toothpaste!! The people at work were like, “ We have Crest!” and I was like - yes, but you don’t have THIS kind!! LOL. It’s also funny to watch their faces when I hold up the peanut butter. They just don’t get the magic of peanut butter! Sure, they’ll put mayonnaise and butter on everything, but they’re afraid of peanut butter. A woman I work with had her first taste of PB&J last week when I gave her a bite of my sandwich and she was shocked that it was actually good! I’m slowly winning people over that yes, there are some cool things that Americans do that you should maybe try too.

Before I share some hilarity, I just have to try to explain the weird-ass British phone billing system if I can. In the UK, you are charged different prices depending on who/where you’re calling. Sounds familiar, right? Nope. Try to stay with me as I explain this. A landline to landline call is a fixed rate - unless you’re calling a number that starts with a certain exchange. I can’t remember what these are exactly but the closest US equivalent I can think of is a 900 number. But not really, because these exchanges aren’t for risque services or anything. It’s hard to explain. But for example, the phone numbers to letting agencies say underneath “calls to this number will be charged at 5p/min” or something similar. So even though you pay a monthly line rental fee, you pay for your calls on top of that. Unless you spring for an unlimited package, which covers you for most of your calls - except… calls to mobile phones. If you call a mobile phone from a landline, you’re going to get charged up the wazoo. I’m not sure why, I just know this to be a truth. I don’t know why calls to mobile phones aren’t covered under the “unlimited” package, but they’re not.

Here is what my Sky Talk Unlimited package provides (though I can’t say for sure because the bloody shagging wankers at BT won’t be here until FEBRUARY FRICKIN’ 23RD!!! to set up my phone line) - check out how they charge weird prices for calls to certain exchanges. Also remember that 1p = 1.5 cents. Also, all fo these fun charges are on top of the £11/month “line rental” fee and the £5/month “Sky Talk Unlimited” fee.

• Unlimited calls to UK landlines 24/7. UK calls apply to 01, 02, 03 and 0870 numbers only (exlcudes all calls to Channel Islands, indirect and dial-up Internet access numbers and 070 numbers). Calls to other 08 numbers cost no more than 10p per minute, with a maximum connection fee of 10p. Calls to 070 numbers cost no more than 48p per minute with a maximum connection fee of 50p. Full tariff details at Sky.com/skytalk. “Free” and “unlimited” calls last up to an hour, after which UK calls are charged at 5.25p per minute at any time of day and international calls at Sky Talk international standard rates, or you can hang up and redial as often as you like. (My question - so why can’t you just talk continuously? What does hanging up do??)
• 20% cheaper call rates to UK mobiles compared to Sky Talk Freetime. (See! You have to pay to call a mobile phone… weird!!!)
• Unlimited calls to 20 popular international destinations (Unlimited international landline calls to 20 countries: Australia, Austria, Belgium, Canada, Czech Republic, Denmark, France, Germany, Greece, Hungary, Ireland, Italy, Luxembourg, Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland and USA (also includes calls to mobiles in Canada and the USA) - to which I say YES!!! Thank heavens for that one, because most of my peeps don’t even have landlines anymore
• Unlimited calls to Sky contact centres included at no extra charge. don’t even know what this means…
• A 25% discount on calls to 118 759 directory enquires. Calls to 118759 cost 18.75 per minute (plus a 51.75p connection charge) for Sky Talk customers calling from their Sky Talk landline. (So a total cost of 70.50p - or roughly $1.05 for every British “411” call. I don’t remember what it costs in the US but I think its close to being the same)

The cool thing is that once I get the phone and interwebs actually installed, because I have SKY TV too, I can access all kinds of cool features via my cable box. I know I can check my account, etc, but I also have access to local government services and a bunch of other things.

And now, what I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for, funny things that happened this week:

• My jacked up heating system. So here are some photos. One is of the closet where this heating system is located. The other is of the “timer” that I can’t figure out and then there’s the thermostat… which I think I just figured out has something to do with water temperature. BUT there’s that white box (see picture of closet) which has a dial for thermostat and I don’t know what on earth that does. Only thing I do know is that if the A light or B light start blinking, I better run for cover.

Today I tried to figure out my boiler vs. my heating boiler vs. my heating timer - and accidentally turned all my heat off. Didn’t realize it until I started shivering.  I’m still not quite sure how to put the damn heat on the timer so I’m not wasting energy all day and being charged outrageous prices by the idiots at the utility company.

Which brings me to…

• Erin vs. British Gas. Fun fact: they don’t read your meter here. You either have to read it every month and call/phone/text it in, or they will “estimate” it for you. By law, they are only required to read it every 18 months. When I heard this, I was not pleased. The conversation went something like this -

Me: I got a bill, but it says estimated. I think your people forgot to read my meter.
British Gas Lady on Phone (BGLP): No, we only read the meter every 18 months.
Me: What? Are you serious?
BGLP: Yes, that’s the law. We will estimate your bill, or you can do a reading on the last day of each month and give us the number and we will calculate your bill for you.
Me: So, wait. You want me to do your job for you?
BGLP: No. It’s not our job. It’s your job.
Me: It’s my job to read my own meter?! (voice rising)
BGLP: Yes.
Me: That’s unethical.
BGLP: Miss, that’s the law.
Me: Well then that’s an unethical law. I get this bill and its estimated at a ridiculously high rate (Note: they are trying to charge me £30 for 10 days of gas - basically $45).
BGLP: Miss, its not unethical. We estimate based on the last tenant and overall usage in your area.
Me: That’s just stupid.
BGLP: Miss, we –
Me: I mean, that’s really really stupid. Its like what if you went out to eat and instead of giving you a menu with prices, I just served you some food and then “estimated” your bill based on how much people all around you were eating? And what if the people around you were all big and hungry?
BGLP: Miss, that’s really uncalled for, we –
Me: I’m not saying you’re fat and will eat alot. I’m just saying that its about as stupid as how you run things.
BGLP: (silence)
Me: So I guess my only choice is to do your job for you and give you my number every month or get ripped off because the person before me was a gas hog?
BGLP: Miss, you are always free to submit your meter readings.

The conversation continued in this vein for quite a while. I then called my Electric provider and it went sort of the same way. So I have no choice but to read my meter each month and give them the figures. But it makes me wonder, what’s to stop me from calling one month and saying the meter reads 6735 and then the next month telling them it reads 6745, even though it really reads 6918 or something. Since they only roll their lazy butts out here every 18 months, how would they know? I’m not going to do that because I don’t want any trouble with the UK authorities, but it doesn’t seem like a very good system to me.

I struggle because I don’t want to constantly be saying “Where I come from…” and acting like its better. But… it kinda is. I think part of it is that the U.S. is so new compared to the UK and Europe, and I think another part is the sheer size of the country and the economies of scale realized, but most of it is just the nature of America - and our “American-ness”. As a people, we are used to choice and wanting the best. The free market system (that the Obamanation is doing its best to destroy) has given us the freedom to pick and choose what we want, and to demand good service. Not that we always get it - although most of the really bad service comes from government-run establishments (DMV, post office, IRS, etc)… which makes me wonder yet once again, why do we want the government involved in our health care system?

Oh, and here’s another little fun factoid. I mentioned to a co-worker that I needed to find a Gyn so I could get my annual exam done, and I was greeted with a look of confusion. Ladies dont get annual exams over here. It’s bi-annual, or every three years if you’re lucky. The only way around that is if you have a documented history of issues with your lady business. And even then, it depends. Mammograms don’t start until 50 and then its every 3 years for that, too. It seems that with the NHS, routine health maintenance is not as “routine” as I’m used to. Thank goodness my company provides provide health insurance on top of the NHS as one of our benefits.

Which does leave me thinking - if the NHS is so wonderful, and socialized medicine is the great panacea the Obamanation wants us to think it is, then why on earth is there private insurance? And why would a company provide it? In doing so - as a standard benefit - it seems that even my own company recognizes that the NHS doesn’t make the grade and that for people to get any kind of decent care, they need a little something extra. Just some food for thought…

Federman out.

Weekend in Review

In reviewing my previous posts, it looks like I acheived all my goals for the weekend! I cleaned my flat! I watched the 2-hour LOST premiere - and was both enthralled and horribly confused. Parallel dimensions? Daydreaming? Hallucinogens? Can't wait to find out!! I did indeed visit Noa Noa and ended up with two new blazers, a sweater, a shirt/dress thing, a necklace and some earrings. (So much for my budget!) But I cleaned out my closet yesterday so I guess it all works out in some kind of Zen balancing act. Actually, the closet thing was fun because since my surgery, I've actually lost about 8-10lbs (3.6kg - 4.5kg). So not only can I now fit into button up shirts without looking like I'm 8 months pregnant, but I can also wear all those pants I bought "just in case". My next goal is to get back to that dreamy, mystical land of single-digit pants. Although on the downside, the only thing that has kept me away from ridiculously priced designer jeans is that I looked like two pigs in a blanket fighting when I tried them on.  (Although UK sizes are "bigger" than their U.S. equivalent, but the thing is that I will know even if these silly Brits don't - ha!)

It really is weird, as I've heard from other people that they lost weight when they moved outside the U.S. - but since I struggle with it, I just pretty much ignored them. The funny thing is that I haven't started any workout program per se (I have just finished my "recovery" time and so now I can begin in earnest), and I think I've been eating more rather than less. But I really do think it boils down to what I'm eating. Yeah, I'm OD'ing on bread, but its freshly baked bread with no chemicals. Same for the butter - its real butter. So real I can still hear it moo. And we've got real cheese and real chocolate (made with sugar, not high-fructose corn syrup). I've been drinking alot of tea and water, so maybe that's been helping? And I try to walk as much as possible. Just to and from the local Tesco (grocery store) is 1 mile, and I will usually wander further into and around Canterbury town. So on the weekend I'm walking anywhere from 2-4 miles, which I'm sure is helping. I need to start doing something every day, and now that I'm getting my bearings as to where I am, I think this will happen with more frequency. A co-worker and her husband live in Canterbury and she's American, so we can put on our iPods filled with grotty hip-hop and go bouncing around the town together ;)

Speaking of music and such, I have GOT to describe my experience this past weekend going "out". When I went to the housewarming party thrown by my neighbours a week or so ago, I met two very nice women and we exchanged contact information and agreed to meet up. So on Saturday, they came to my flat and we had a drink before setting out on the town. They took me first to a very nice, low-key bar. I have forgotten the name, but it seemed like a nice place to gather with friends. The music wasn't too loud that you couldn't have a conversation and the drinks were reasonably priced (for England - we ordered 1 Maker's & Diet, 1 glass of white wine and 1 fruit juice mixture and it was £9,50 - or roughly $15). After hanging out there for an hour or so, we all started yawning. It was barely midnight! But one of the girls suggested that we at least check out the local dance spot before heading home, just so that I could see it and get the feel of it. So we headed over to a place called The Old Brewery.

My impressions:

• We had to queue outside, but not for very long. However, it was long enough for me to see the girls in sleeveless super short dresses and stripper heels. (Side note: for some reason, the streetwalker look is huge over here. Super short dresses barely covering the bum and sky-high spike heels.)
• Upon entry, my senses were assaulted by: (1) loads of people, (2) the smelled of spilled beer and (3) Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer". The crowd was going NUTS over this music, which I found to be quite hilarious, seeing as how they were mostly British and knew nothing about Johnny or the docks whereupon he used to work. They also don't understand New Jersey, but in all fairness, I'm not quite sure I do either.
• After Bon Jovi, we were treated to "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" (pre-crack Whitney Houston), "Footloose" (yes, the one you're thinking of) and more inexpilcably, the theme song from Baywatch. I'm not kidding, people. The place went wild when that song came on, leaving me to stand there with my mouth hanging open in pure shock. I don't know which Baywatch theme song it was, as according to Wikipedia there were about six or seven versions - I just know that when I heard it I saw the Hoff on a beach in my head.
• The music they choose is strange - lots of BritPop (semi-techno-y dance music) that I didn't know peppered with Lady Gaga, Rihanna and that stupid "Tick Tock" song that is everywhere over here.
• The outfits were beyond bizarre. All the girls, no matter their size, looked like frazzled hookers. And there were a few in costumes - like one was a pirate I think and one a fairy. The guys were in typical Euro guy wear - skinny pants, button down or pullover shirts. There was a big group of guys in suit jackets, dress shirts, ties - and boxer shorts. I think it was a stag party (bachelor party). At least I really, really hope so. It was funny, though, because over here "pants" = underwear, and so when I hollered "Oh my god, that guy doesn't have any pants on!" people definitely looked.
• The dance floor was so packed, it was like an obstacle course. I had to dance with my elbows permanently out to keep people from slamming into me or dancing right on top of me. As most of the people in the place were completely plastered (wayyyy drunker than I've ever seen such a large group in the U.S., outside of a good Irish pub) and British, the dancing was more like a mass epileptic seizure. Rythym does not seem to have made it across the pond, or at least not to Canterbury.

The highlight of the night was when, about 1:30am, the DJ started playing songs I recognized. First up was "American Boy" by Estelle featuring Kanye. The irony of me listening to that in England was not lost on me. Then to my overwhelming joy, they played the Applebottom Jeans song, giving me a chance to get my groove on to T-Pain and show off my sweet Soul Train dance moves. It was like an amazing release to get my jam on - I soooo miss my crazy music.

Anyway, the night was alot of fun and I totally want to go back to that place. Maybe go up to the DJ and request some UGK, Lil Wayne, hard core hip/hop. Mix things up a little ;)

Manic Monday

Mood: Freezing! (Ok, that's not a mood but I didn't wear any socks today and my feet are ice cold)
Theme Song: "Party All the Time" - Eddie Murphy

So I must first apologize for any typos that may happen today. Blogger does not have a spell check function that I've been able to find, and my keyboard is now set to be a UK keyboard. Which means that the @ sign is where the " normally are, and the £ is where the # normally is and so on and so forth. In Britain's defense, its not as jacked up as French keyboards (to which I say WTF, France!)

The UK keyboard looks like this - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:KB_United_Kingdom.svg
And the French keyboard looks like this - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:KB_France.svg.

So the big news for the day is that there was a dusting of snow this morning. Having driven on British roads, I have to say that some of the spazzing out is justified since the roads over here are nonsense. Absolute nonsense. Anyway, there were all kinds of accidents and back-ups this morning on the motorways. I was lucky as my way into work was incident free - AND I got here without the use of my GPS system, so progress is being made!!!

I did find the Waitrose on Friday afternoon - turns out I was one exit off in my original calculations. The Waitrose is awesome! They have this system where you swipe your credit card and then you get a hand-held scanner and you can scan your groceries yourself and put them into bags as you go through the store. Then you take that handheld scanner to the cashier and just pay. It was so easy! They do spot checks to make sure you're not stealing stuff, so it looks like a good system overall. I found some good stuff  - Newman's Own Balsamic Vinaigrette (not the Low-Fat kind, but it will do), black beans (in salted water, though, but you can't have everything) and Amy's Organic Soups - though no Black Bean soup. I also found Charmin toilet paper, which I haven't seen anywhere else. For some reason the Cottonelle brand is called Andrex over here. And Bounty is called Plenty. Same logos and packaging and everything, just different names!

Food I really like from over here:
- Babybel cheese
- British baked goods - scones, muffins, bread. Mmmmm. I love buying fresh bread
- Tea. And yes, it is better over here
- Marks & Spencer cola. It reminds me of Jones Soda because there is no high fructose nonsense or chemicals in it. And I think because of that, I'll half a small glass of soda instead of a whole can of Diet Coke.
- Morrison's (store brand) Greek Yoghurt with Honey. I'm too much of a wimp to roll with regular greek yoghurt (too sour even if I add my own honey and blueberries), but I love the ready made kind
- Blueberries! I know they're not native to UK but for some reason I'm loving them. I buy them and snack on them constantly

I'm also more and more aware of how the cuisine reflects the environment. There's lots of lamb because sheep are everywhere! (I bet in the next census it would be like #1 - UK citizens, #2 - illegal immigrants, #3 - sheep) There are things called pasties - and no, they haven't anything to do with strippers - and they are ideal for carrying around and munching on to keep your hands warm. They are pronounced "pahh-stees". The same goes for all the variations of stew over here and the like. (For those of you who are really curious, check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_cuisine or http://european-culinary-travel.suite101.com/article.cfm/a-guide-to-british-cuisine).

Weekend in Review

In reviewing my previous posts, it looks like I acheived all my goals for the weekend! I cleaned my flat! I watched the 2-hour LOST premiere - and was both enthralled and horribly confused. Parallel dimensions? Daydreaming? Hallucinogens? Can’t wait to find out!! I did indeed visit Noa Noa and ended up with two new blazers, a sweater, a shirt/dress thing, a necklace and some earrings. (So much for my budget!) But I cleaned out my closet yesterday so I guess it all works out in some kind of Zen balancing act. Actually, the closet thing was fun because since my surgery, I’ve actually lost about 8-10lbs (3.6kg - 4.5kg). So not only can I now fit into button up shirts without looking like I’m 8 months pregnant, but I can also wear all those pants I bought “just in case”. My next goal is to get back to that dreamy, mystical land of single-digit pants. Although on the downside, the only thing that has kept me away from ridiculously priced designer jeans is that I looked like two pigs in a blanket fighting when I tried them on.  (Although UK sizes are “bigger” than their U.S. equivalent, but the thing is that I will know even if these silly Brits don’t - ha!)

It really is weird, as I’ve heard from other people that they lost weight when they moved outside the U.S. - but since I struggle with it, I just pretty much ignored them. The funny thing is that I haven’t started any workout program per se (I have just finished my “recovery” time and so now I can begin in earnest), and I think I’ve been eating more rather than less. But I really do think it boils down to what I’m eating. Yeah, I’m OD'ing on bread, but its freshly baked bread with no chemicals. Same for the butter - its real butter. So real I can still hear it moo. And we’ve got real cheese and real chocolate (made with sugar, not high-fructose corn syrup). I’ve been drinking alot of tea and water, so maybe that’s been helping? And I try to walk as much as possible. Just to and from the local Tesco (grocery store) is 1 mile, and I will usually wander further into and around Canterbury town. So on the weekend I’m walking anywhere from 2-4 miles, which I’m sure is helping. I need to start doing something every day, and now that I’m getting my bearings as to where I am, I think this will happen with more frequency. A co-worker and her husband live in Canterbury and she’s American, so we can put on our iPods filled with grotty hip-hop and go bouncing around the town together ;)

Speaking of music and such, I have GOT to describe my experience this past weekend going "out". When I went to the housewarming party thrown by my neighbours a week or so ago, I met two very nice women and we exchanged contact information and agreed to meet up. So on Saturday, they came to my flat and we had a drink before setting out on the town. They took me first to a very nice, low-key bar. I have forgotten the name, but it seemed like a nice place to gather with friends. The music wasn’t too loud that you couldn’t have a conversation and the drinks were reasonably priced (for England - we ordered 1 Maker’s & Diet, 1 glass of white wine and 1 fruit juice mixture and it was £9,50 - or roughly $15). After hanging out there for an hour or so, we all started yawning. It was barely midnight! But one of the girls suggested that we at least check out the local dance spot before heading home, just so that I could see it and get the feel of it. So we headed over to a place called The Old Brewery.

My impressions:

• We had to queue outside, but not for very long. However, it was long enough for me to see the girls in sleeveless super short dresses and stripper heels. (Side note: for some reason, the streetwalker look is huge over here. Super short dresses barely covering the bum and sky-high spike heels.)
• Upon entry, my senses were assaulted by: (1) loads of people, (2) the smelled of spilled beer and (3) Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer”. The crowd was going NUTS over this music, which I found to be quite hilarious, seeing as how they were mostly British and knew nothing about Johnny or the docks whereupon he used to work. They also don’t understand New Jersey, but in all fairness, I’m not quite sure I do either.
• After Bon Jovi, we were treated to “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” (pre-crack Whitney Houston), “Footloose” (yes, the one you’re thinking of) and more inexpilcably, the theme song from Baywatch. I’m not kidding, people. The place went wild when that song came on, leaving me to stand there with my mouth hanging open in pure shock. I don’t know which Baywatch theme song it was, as according to Wikipedia there were about six or seven versions - I just know that when I heard it I saw the Hoff on a beach in my head.
• The music they choose is strange - lots of BritPop (semi-techno-y dance music) that I didn’t know peppered with Lady Gaga, Rihanna and that stupid “Tick Tock” song that is everywhere over here.
• The outfits were beyond bizarre. All the girls, no matter their size, looked like frazzled hookers. And there were a few in costumes - like one was a pirate I think and one a fairy. The guys were in typical Euro guy wear - skinny pants, button down or pullover shirts. There was a big group of guys in suit jackets, dress shirts, ties - and boxer shorts. I think it was a stag party (bachelor party). At least I really, really hope so. It was funny, though, because over here “pants” = underwear, and so when I hollered “Oh my god, that guy doesn’t have any pants on!” people definitely looked.
• The dance floor was so packed, it was like an obstacle course. I had to dance with my elbows permanently out to keep people from slamming into me or dancing right on top of me. As most of the people in the place were completely plastered (wayyyy drunker than I’ve ever seen such a large group in the U.S., outside of a good Irish pub) and British, the dancing was more like a mass epileptic seizure. Rythym does not seem to have made it across the pond, or at least not to Canterbury.

The highlight of the night was when, about 1:30am, the DJ started playing songs I recognized. First up was “American Boy” by Estelle featuring Kanye. The irony of me listening to that in England was not lost on me. Then to my overwhelming joy, they played the Applebottom Jeans song, giving me a chance to get my groove on to T-Pain and show off my sweet Soul Train dance moves. It was like an amazing release to get my jam on - I soooo miss my crazy music.

Anyway, the night was alot of fun and I totally want to go back to that place. Maybe go up to the DJ and request some UGK, Lil Wayne, hard core hip/hop. Mix things up a little ;)

Manic Monday

Mood: Freezing! (Ok, that’s not a mood but I didn’t wear any socks today and my feet are ice cold)
Theme Song: “Party All the Time” - Eddie Murphy

So I must first apologize for any typos that may happen today. Blogger does not have a spell check function that I’ve been able to find, and my keyboard is now set to be a UK keyboard. Which means that the @ sign is where the “ normally are, and the £ is where the # normally is and so on and so forth. In Britain’s defense, its not as jacked up as French keyboards (to which I say WTF, France!)

The UK keyboard looks like this - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:KB_United_Kingdom.svg
And the French keyboard looks like this - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:KB_France.svg.

So the big news for the day is that there was a dusting of snow this morning. Having driven on British roads, I have to say that some of the spazzing out is justified since the roads over here are nonsense. Absolute nonsense. Anyway, there were all kinds of accidents and back-ups this morning on the motorways. I was lucky as my way into work was incident free - AND I got here without the use of my GPS system, so progress is being made!!!

I did find the Waitrose on Friday afternoon - turns out I was one exit off in my original calculations. The Waitrose is awesome! They have this system where you swipe your credit card and then you get a hand-held scanner and you can scan your groceries yourself and put them into bags as you go through the store. Then you take that handheld scanner to the cashier and just pay. It was so easy! They do spot checks to make sure you’re not stealing stuff, so it looks like a good system overall. I found some good stuff  - Newman’s Own Balsamic Vinaigrette (not the Low-Fat kind, but it will do), black beans (in salted water, though, but you can’t have everything) and Amy’s Organic Soups - though no Black Bean soup. I also found Charmin toilet paper, which I haven’t seen anywhere else. For some reason the Cottonelle brand is called Andrex over here. And Bounty is called Plenty. Same logos and packaging and everything, just different names!

Food I really like from over here:
- Babybel cheese
- British baked goods - scones, muffins, bread. Mmmmm. I love buying fresh bread
- Tea. And yes, it is better over here
- Marks & Spencer cola. It reminds me of Jones Soda because there is no high fructose nonsense or chemicals in it. And I think because of that, I’ll half a small glass of soda instead of a whole can of Diet Coke.
- Morrison’s (store brand) Greek Yoghurt with Honey. I’m too much of a wimp to roll with regular greek yoghurt (too sour even if I add my own honey and blueberries), but I love the ready made kind
- Blueberries! I know they’re not native to UK but for some reason I’m loving them. I buy them and snack on them constantly

I’m also more and more aware of how the cuisine reflects the environment. There’s lots of lamb because sheep are everywhere! (I bet in the next census it would be like #1 - UK citizens, #2 - illegal immigrants, #3 - sheep) There are things called pasties - and no, they haven’t anything to do with strippers - and they are ideal for carrying around and munching on to keep your hands warm. They are pronounced "pahh-stees”. The same goes for all the variations of stew over here and the like. (For those of you who are really curious, check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_cuisine or http://european-culinary-travel.suite101.com/article.cfm/a-guide-to-british-cuisine).

Thank HRH its Friday!

Mood: Optimistic
Theme Song: "Everybody's Working for the Weekend"

Happy News! I'm not going to Mexico later this month so I will be at home for the BT guy to come and set up my long-awaited home phone! The package I bought includes unlimited calls long-distance for calls 59min or less - so I can call my homies! Yay! In other happy news, my trip for Japan is now in May, which is a beautiful time to visit apparently. Cherry trees! The unhappy news is that means all my travel is back-ended to March now.

My mission to visit the Waitrose last night was a bust. I tried to find it, but my GPS didn't reconize the post code and my internal GPS was not working right. I ended up taking the wrong exit off the roundabout - which took me into a really scary area that was pitch-black and farmland. Driving through that was not fun, and I have to say that I was actually really scared. I made it home (obviously) but spent most of the time terrified, wondering what would happen if I broke down.

British radio stations are hilarious. Last night on the way home from work I was listening to these two female DJs talk about this calendar they had received entitled "Doug in the Bath". Seems this guy Doug - who is apparently older, quite hairy and balding - made a calendar for 2010 of pictures of himself in the bath. And then gave it to all his friends as a Christmas present. The DJs were reading off what each month was and just cracking up. One month showed him in a tub full of bubbles. Another month, he had a friend in the tub with him (apparently some happy looking blond guy). Another month it was a romantic setting, with candles and flowers. But the best was December, where they said that our boy Doug was completely au naturel save for a Winnie-the-Pooh washcloth positioned over his manly bits! For 2011, Doug is planning a new line called "Doug in the Hole" - in which he will photograph himself inside various holes around the world. It's times like these when I start thinking that technology is not necessarily something that should be given to just anyone. Although it did give me an idea for my own calendar - Stupid English Roads.

The variety of music is also really frustrating for me. So far, I can bet that when I turn on the radio, I'm going to get one of the following - The Haiti REM remake (which sucks in my opinion), Lady Gaga, Robbie Williams, the Sugababes or Girls Aloud. No Drake. No Snoop-a-loop. No Eminem. At this point I would probably even settle for the Jonas Brothers or Miley Cyrus. You know what? Barry will pass out reading this, but I'd even settle for Radiohead. I'm seriously looking into how I can get some kind of satellite radio in my car so I can get my jam on to decent music. If everyday is going to be an obstacle course with the constant threat of sudden vehicular death hanging over my head, then I better get some good music to go with it! On the subject of cars, I get a car as part of my package here at work (this is very standard in UK and Europe for marketing jobs), but it won't arrive until March or April. Even though I pass several dealerships on the way to work, its been explained to me that getting a new car here is not like in the U.S. - since we use a LeasePlan, they insist on ordering the car direct from the manufacturer who then has to build it. Seems a silly way to handle things - wouldn't it just be better to take an available car off a lot somewhere? But this is the way it is done and so in the meantime I have a rental car that I am just beating all to hell. I'm sure the suspension will soon be shot from all the times I've accidentally run into the curb while going 40mph (overcompensating to the left because it freaks me out to have traffic coming at me on my right), and I'd bet I've used up about 6 months worth of brakes trying to manage my speed. I won't even mention the fact that most of the roads I drive on are bumpy and filled with monster pot-holes.

Spent more time this morning with my colleagues discussing American vs. British terms. For example, the Brits don't say "Wow!" or "Awesome!". They think its hilarious when those words come out of my mouth. We also discussed how British say "anti-clockwise" and Americans say "counter-clockwise". I told them that "anti-clockwise" makes it sound like they have something personal against all things clockwise.

I struggle because there are so many things I want to explain that are so uniquely American - like anything that has been on Saturday Night Live. They don't get that show over here and so they don't understand anything I reference. Like "Hans and Franz". Or saying someone looks like The Church Lady. Or my personal favorite, "I'm on a Boat". But I have introduced my co-workers to http://www.urbandictionary.com/ so that they can decipher some of my mutterings. And I have explained what I mean when I yell "Shamon!" when excited or pleased. I think I'm doing an excellent job of advancing American-British relations, and that Hilary herself would be proud.

Today is Friday (yay!) and so we get to leave the office at 3:30pm. Since I didn't make it to the Waitrose last night, I'm going to check it out this afternoon. I hear its manna for Americans and so I'm really excited. On deck for this weekend -

• Giving the flat a good cleaning and watching LOST Premiere (tonight! Yay!)
• Visiting my new favorite store (Noa Noa) and ogling all the new spring goodies that I can't afford
• Tea with M&J to see their new adorable baby
• Drinks with my new neighbour friends that I met at the housewarming party
• Laundry, laundry, laundry in the dreaded washer/dryer

If I have time on Sunday I'm going to try to get to Rochester to wander around. I've made myself a promise that I'm going to spend one day a weekend taking in the culture and history of this fine country. Besides, why should I keep my Erin-ness all to myself? ;)

Federman out.

Thank HRH its Friday!

Mood: Optimistic
Theme Song: “Everybody’s Working for the Weekend”

Happy News! I’m not going to Mexico later this month so I will be at home for the BT guy to come and set up my long-awaited home phone! The package I bought includes unlimited calls long-distance for calls 59min or less - so I can call my homies! Yay! In other happy news, my trip for Japan is now in May, which is a beautiful time to visit apparently. Cherry trees! The unhappy news is that means all my travel is back-ended to March now.

My mission to visit the Waitrose last night was a bust. I tried to find it, but my GPS didn’t reconize the post code and my internal GPS was not working right. I ended up taking the wrong exit off the roundabout - which took me into a really scary area that was pitch-black and farmland. Driving through that was not fun, and I have to say that I was actually really scared. I made it home (obviously) but spent most of the time terrified, wondering what would happen if I broke down.

British radio stations are hilarious. Last night on the way home from work I was listening to these two female DJs talk about this calendar they had received entitled “Doug in the Bath”. Seems this guy Doug - who is apparently older, quite hairy and balding - made a calendar for 2010 of pictures of himself in the bath. And then gave it to all his friends as a Christmas present. The DJs were reading off what each month was and just cracking up. One month showed him in a tub full of bubbles. Another month, he had a friend in the tub with him (apparently some happy looking blond guy). Another month it was a romantic setting, with candles and flowers. But the best was December, where they said that our boy Doug was completely au naturel save for a Winnie-the-Pooh washcloth positioned over his manly bits! For 2011, Doug is planning a new line called “Doug in the Hole” - in which he will photograph himself inside various holes around the world. It’s times like these when I start thinking that technology is not necessarily something that should be given to just anyone. Although it did give me an idea for my own calendar - Stupid English Roads.

The variety of music is also really frustrating for me. So far, I can bet that when I turn on the radio, I’m going to get one of the following - The Haiti REM remake (which sucks in my opinion), Lady Gaga, Robbie Williams, the Sugababes or Girls Aloud. No Drake. No Snoop-a-loop. No Eminem. At this point I would probably even settle for the Jonas Brothers or Miley Cyrus. You know what? Barry will pass out reading this, but I’d even settle for Radiohead. I’m seriously looking into how I can get some kind of satellite radio in my car so I can get my jam on to decent music. If everyday is going to be an obstacle course with the constant threat of sudden vehicular death hanging over my head, then I better get some good music to go with it! On the subject of cars, I get a car as part of my package here at work (this is very standard in UK and Europe for marketing jobs), but it won’t arrive until March or April. Even though I pass several dealerships on the way to work, its been explained to me that getting a new car here is not like in the U.S. - since we use a LeasePlan, they insist on ordering the car direct from the manufacturer who then has to build it. Seems a silly way to handle things - wouldn’t it just be better to take an available car off a lot somewhere? But this is the way it is done and so in the meantime I have a rental car that I am just beating all to hell. I’m sure the suspension will soon be shot from all the times I’ve accidentally run into the curb while going 40mph (overcompensating to the left because it freaks me out to have traffic coming at me on my right), and I’d bet I’ve used up about 6 months worth of brakes trying to manage my speed. I won’t even mention the fact that most of the roads I drive on are bumpy and filled with monster pot-holes.

Spent more time this morning with my colleagues discussing American vs. British terms. For example, the Brits don’t say “Wow!” or “Awesome!”. They think its hilarious when those words come out of my mouth. We also discussed how British say “anti-clockwise” and Americans say “counter-clockwise”. I told them that “anti-clockwise” makes it sound like they have something personal against all things clockwise.

I struggle because there are so many things I want to explain that are so uniquely American - like anything that has been on Saturday Night Live. They don’t get that show over here and so they don’t understand anything I reference. Like “Hans and Franz”. Or saying someone looks like The Church Lady. Or my personal favorite, “I’m on a Boat”. But I have introduced my co-workers to http://www.urbandictionary.com/ so that they can decipher some of my mutterings. And I have explained what I mean when I yell “Shamon!” when excited or pleased. I think I’m doing an excellent job of advancing American-British relations, and that Hilary herself would be proud.

Today is Friday (yay!) and so we get to leave the office at 3:30pm. Since I didn’t make it to the Waitrose last night, I’m going to check it out this afternoon. I hear its manna for Americans and so I’m really excited. On deck for this weekend -

• Giving the flat a good cleaning and watching LOST Premiere (tonight! Yay!)
• Visiting my new favorite store (Noa Noa) and ogling all the new spring goodies that I can’t afford
• Tea with M&J to see their new adorable baby
• Drinks with my new neighbour friends that I met at the housewarming party
• Laundry, laundry, laundry in the dreaded washer/dryer

If I have time on Sunday I’m going to try to get to Rochester to wander around. I’ve made myself a promise that I’m going to spend one day a weekend taking in the culture and history of this fine country. Besides, why should I keep my Erin-ness all to myself? ;)

Federman out.

America, The Beautiful

Mood: Irritable
Theme Song: "Break Stuff" - Limp Bizkit

Where to begin? Well, to start with, I'm still in my soon-to-become-epic war with Sky TV/British Telephone. Those morons messed up my order and are telling me they can't install my telephone line until 23rd February. Apparently, they are so busy that they just can't get around to it until then. I don't know what they are so busy doing, but it sure isn't installing my damn telephone. I can't get my internet service until my telephone is activated. Once that happens, it will be 10 days for my "rooter" to be sent to me. And they won't send it to my work, either. So I'll probably be chasing it down in British post office hell for a good few days. Which means I won't have internet at home until the 25th of Never. ARGH! The Mensa member I spoke to on the phone today actually told me that if I wasn't home, they'd just leave my router with my neighbor. As my girl Whitney would say, "Oh hell-to-the-NO!". Like I want my stuff left with some strangers?! I don't care if they're British or American, you don't leave packages with random people on your street. Bizarre! But after stressing my extreme displeasure, I did get half off my line rental rate for a year, so that's something.

On Tuesday night, I flew back into London-Gatwick (which really is much easier than London-Heathrow). After navigating immigration - where I had to provide my fingerprints (first time doing that!) - I then had to take the bus from the South Terminal to the North Terminal. I then had to take another bus from the North Terminal to the Long Term Parking Lot. Upon arriving at the lot, the bus driver kept asking me what bus stop I wanted. Hell, I didn't know. I just knew I was parked in X3. So the driver came to the first sign that said "X" he could find and then stopped to let me out. Before I could ask a question, he was gone. So there I was, alone, in the dark British night, staring at rows and rows of cars. And my car was nowhere in sight. My rental car doesn't have the alarm feature on the key ring so I was aimlessly wandering up and down the aisles trying to flash the lights and hoping that I wouldn't get jumped in the meantime. After nearly breaking into tears, I finally found my car and began the laborious navigation back to the motorway.

I know I've commented before about the scariness of driving on British roads at night (or in the daytime, for that matter). Something I realized on my trips to and from the airport is that the highways aren't well-lit either! For those of you in Cincinnati, its ALL like that one scary stretch of I-74 (coming from downtown on I-75) where there aren't any streetlights. The lanes are smaller and the cars drive like bats out of hell, zipping and zooming and speeding all over - speed cameras be damned. (I later found out that only some of them are actually operational and that most people who drive those roads regularly know which ones to pay attention to). Thanks to my GPS system (sooo glad I sprung for the $100 to upgrade to the UK/Europe package before I left the US), I was able to make it home in one piece and with a minimum of confusion. I think a good sign of how rattled I was is that while flicking through the radio channels in an attempt to find something tolerable, I came across what I thought was Vanilla Ice - and started singing along. Only at the end of the song did I discover that I had been jammin' to Jedward (can't explain, just Google it). Oh, the horror. How low I have fallen...

Yesterday at work we had basically an all-day meeting that lasted until 7pm - going over our strategy with various countries and distributors. There was a dinner directly after that, and in typical British fashion it was in a restaurant that was hard to find. Every time I've been to a dinner since I've been over here, its like a scavenger hunt to find the place. This one, to be fair, was called "The Secret Garden", so the fact that it wasn't hard to find was kind of explained by the name. But seriously! I was longing for our well-lit easy to find shopping and dining areas in the U.S. 

During dinner, I was talking to one of the VPs at my company and he asked me how I was finding living in England. I told him that I enjoyed it... except for:

1. The dreaded washer/dryer
2. Lack of streetlights
3. Mayonnaise
4. Crazy Britpop music (I miss KISS FM! there! I've said it! I miss the Clear Channel monstrosity)
5. Sky TV
6. British drivers
7. Exorbitant cost of dry cleaning

You know, I keep realising what a sense of entitlement we Americans have. And I never thought I was like that - honestly. But I realise that the rest of the world finds it bizarre that we use up so much space and so many natural resources. And you know, I've already realised that I don't need a huge car. And I don't need as much space - or as much stuff - as I originally thought. And we do tend to waste stuff... food, water, gas, clothes. Americans do tend to live a disposable lifestyle. And I'm not just talking about "Save the Earth" recycling. It's everything - how we shop, why we shop, what we buy... its just so hard to explain.

And that I have been VERY VERY spoiled by the immediate availability of anything I wanted to buy, and by American customer service. I'm so used to raising a fuss if things aren't acceptable and having people WANT to fix the problem. It's just not the same over here. People are much more patient and accepting that not everything will go as planned and that the first thing on everyone's mind isn't convenience.

After dinner (I had a broccoli-cheese soup made from local cheeses which was good, but nothing like my Mom's, and then the entree was sausage and leek with potatoes and lentils and it was surprisingly really good!), I used my GPS to navigate back to my house. Bad choice, as it took me the most "direct" way. Now, in the U.S. that would be just fine. In the UK, it meant taking the dreaded "B" road (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Britain_road_numbering_scheme). The best analogy I have is that its kind of like State Routes in the U.S. - but even they are wider and well-lit.

B roads are numbered local routes, which have lower traffic densities than the main trunk roads, or A roads. They are typically short, not usually more than 15 miles. The classification has nothing to do with the width or quality of the physical road, and B roads can range from dual carriageways to single track roads with passing places. B roads follow the same numbering scheme as A roads, but almost always have 3- and 4-digit designations. Many 3-digit B roads outside the London area are former A roads which have been downgraded owing to new road construction; others may link smaller settlements to A roads.

I think I took B2098 or some such. Let me just say B roads are FREAKING SCARY. If my college friend Stacey K is reading this, she will understand when I say PISGAH FOREST!!! These B roads remind me of some scary serial-killer road you'd see in a horror film. Narrow, pitch-black, and windy. The few I took were out in the middle of nowhere (or at least it looked like that - blackness on either side of me) and I seemed to go uphill and downhill at random. Oh, and the posted speed limit? Usually 40mph or 50mph. These people are crazy!!!

I arrived at home, white-knucked and tense, only to get the heel of my shoe stuck in the pavement outside my house. And then I literally tripped on the heel and fell into my front hall. And this is why I don't wear heels of any size. They may look good, but I'm a disaster moving around in them. I got home just in time for my 11pm conference call wtih our Japan office, after which I immediately went to bed. Well, okay I did watch about 15 minutes of X-Men 3.

I stopped at Staples on the way in to work today to buy some 4-hole punch binders (they don't have 3-hole punch... which makes sense since A4 paper is longer than U.S. letter size paper), and the clerk commented on how all Americans say "Have a good day!" or "Have a nice day!". I didn't think anything of it until he handed me my purchases and I automatically replied "Thanks! Have a good one!". Some stereotypes I guess are really true!!

I tried Walker's Cheese & Onion crisps today - they are pretty good. I am going to be adventurous and try Prawn Cocktail soon. Although it will take me awhile to get to where I can safely eat Badger flavour. (Its not real badger.. don't know why its called that).  I'm off now to my local Waitrose (http://www.waitrose.com/) where I hear I can buy American food. We'll see...

Counting down the hours until the LOST Season 6 premiere... for some reason, we get it a good few days after the U.S. - its been killing me not to Google it and get spoilers. SO DON'T TELL ME ANYTHING!!! :)

Ok, finally leaving work after a long day, during which all my travel plans for this month changed. No longer going to Canada, Mexico or Japan this month - everythings been moved to March or May. But I think Tokyo in May will be much better anyway, so I'm not upset. There is a chance I'll be going to Cyprus next month, and that's also not a bad thing. My life could indeed be worse!

Federman out.

America, The Beautiful

Mood: Irritable
Theme Song: “Break Stuff” - Limp Bizkit

Where to begin? Well, to start with, I’m still in my soon-to-become-epic war with Sky TV/British Telephone. Those morons messed up my order and are telling me they can’t install my telephone line until 23rd February. Apparently, they are so busy that they just can’t get around to it until then. I don’t know what they are so busy doing, but it sure isn’t installing my damn telephone. I can’t get my internet service until my telephone is activated. Once that happens, it will be 10 days for my “rooter” to be sent to me. And they won’t send it to my work, either. So I’ll probably be chasing it down in British post office hell for a good few days. Which means I won’t have internet at home until the 25th of Never. ARGH! The Mensa member I spoke to on the phone today actually told me that if I wasn’t home, they’d just leave my router with my neighbor. As my girl Whitney would say, “Oh hell-to-the-NO!”. Like I want my stuff left with some strangers?! I don’t care if they’re British or American, you don’t leave packages with random people on your street. Bizarre! But after stressing my extreme displeasure, I did get half off my line rental rate for a year, so that’s something.

On Tuesday night, I flew back into London-Gatwick (which really is much easier than London-Heathrow). After navigating immigration - where I had to provide my fingerprints (first time doing that!) - I then had to take the bus from the South Terminal to the North Terminal. I then had to take another bus from the North Terminal to the Long Term Parking Lot. Upon arriving at the lot, the bus driver kept asking me what bus stop I wanted. Hell, I didn’t know. I just knew I was parked in X3. So the driver came to the first sign that said “X” he could find and then stopped to let me out. Before I could ask a question, he was gone. So there I was, alone, in the dark British night, staring at rows and rows of cars. And my car was nowhere in sight. My rental car doesn’t have the alarm feature on the key ring so I was aimlessly wandering up and down the aisles trying to flash the lights and hoping that I wouldn’t get jumped in the meantime. After nearly breaking into tears, I finally found my car and began the laborious navigation back to the motorway.

I know I’ve commented before about the scariness of driving on British roads at night (or in the daytime, for that matter). Something I realized on my trips to and from the airport is that the highways aren’t well-lit either! For those of you in Cincinnati, its ALL like that one scary stretch of I-74 (coming from downtown on I-75) where there aren’t any streetlights. The lanes are smaller and the cars drive like bats out of hell, zipping and zooming and speeding all over - speed cameras be damned. (I later found out that only some of them are actually operational and that most people who drive those roads regularly know which ones to pay attention to). Thanks to my GPS system (sooo glad I sprung for the $100 to upgrade to the UK/Europe package before I left the US), I was able to make it home in one piece and with a minimum of confusion. I think a good sign of how rattled I was is that while flicking through the radio channels in an attempt to find something tolerable, I came across what I thought was Vanilla Ice - and started singing along. Only at the end of the song did I discover that I had been jammin’ to Jedward (can’t explain, just Google it). Oh, the horror. How low I have fallen…

Yesterday at work we had basically an all-day meeting that lasted until 7pm - going over our strategy with various countries and distributors. There was a dinner directly after that, and in typical British fashion it was in a restaurant that was hard to find. Every time I’ve been to a dinner since I’ve been over here, its like a scavenger hunt to find the place. This one, to be fair, was called “The Secret Garden”, so the fact that it wasn’t hard to find was kind of explained by the name. But seriously! I was longing for our well-lit easy to find shopping and dining areas in the U.S. 

During dinner, I was talking to one of the VPs at my company and he asked me how I was finding living in England. I told him that I enjoyed it… except for:

1. The dreaded washer/dryer
2. Lack of streetlights
3. Mayonnaise
4. Crazy Britpop music (I miss KISS FM! there! I’ve said it! I miss the Clear Channel monstrosity)
5. Sky TV
6. British drivers
7. Exorbitant cost of dry cleaning

You know, I keep realising what a sense of entitlement we Americans have. And I never thought I was like that - honestly. But I realise that the rest of the world finds it bizarre that we use up so much space and so many natural resources. And you know, I’ve already realised that I don’t need a huge car. And I don’t need as much space - or as much stuff - as I originally thought. And we do tend to waste stuff… food, water, gas, clothes. Americans do tend to live a disposable lifestyle. And I’m not just talking about “Save the Earth” recycling. It’s everything - how we shop, why we shop, what we buy… its just so hard to explain.

And that I have been VERY VERY spoiled by the immediate availability of anything I wanted to buy, and by American customer service. I’m so used to raising a fuss if things aren’t acceptable and having people WANT to fix the problem. It’s just not the same over here. People are much more patient and accepting that not everything will go as planned and that the first thing on everyone’s mind isn’t convenience.

After dinner (I had a broccoli-cheese soup made from local cheeses which was good, but nothing like my Mom’s, and then the entree was sausage and leek with potatoes and lentils and it was surprisingly really good!), I used my GPS to navigate back to my house. Bad choice, as it took me the most “direct” way. Now, in the U.S. that would be just fine. In the UK, it meant taking the dreaded “B” road (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Britain_road_numbering_scheme). The best analogy I have is that its kind of like State Routes in the U.S. - but even they are wider and well-lit.

B roads are numbered local routes, which have lower traffic densities than the main trunk roads, or A roads. They are typically short, not usually more than 15 miles. The classification has nothing to do with the width or quality of the physical road, and B roads can range from dual carriageways to single track roads with passing places. B roads follow the same numbering scheme as A roads, but almost always have 3- and 4-digit designations. Many 3-digit B roads outside the London area are former A roads which have been downgraded owing to new road construction; others may link smaller settlements to A roads.

I think I took B2098 or some such. Let me just say B roads are FREAKING SCARY. If my college friend Stacey K is reading this, she will understand when I say PISGAH FOREST!!! These B roads remind me of some scary serial-killer road you’d see in a horror film. Narrow, pitch-black, and windy. The few I took were out in the middle of nowhere (or at least it looked like that - blackness on either side of me) and I seemed to go uphill and downhill at random. Oh, and the posted speed limit? Usually 40mph or 50mph. These people are crazy!!!

I arrived at home, white-knucked and tense, only to get the heel of my shoe stuck in the pavement outside my house. And then I literally tripped on the heel and fell into my front hall. And this is why I don’t wear heels of any size. They may look good, but I’m a disaster moving around in them. I got home just in time for my 11pm conference call wtih our Japan office, after which I immediately went to bed. Well, okay I did watch about 15 minutes of X-Men 3.

I stopped at Staples on the way in to work today to buy some 4-hole punch binders (they don’t have 3-hole punch… which makes sense since A4 paper is longer than U.S. letter size paper), and the clerk commented on how all Americans say “Have a good day!” or “Have a nice day!”. I didn’t think anything of it until he handed me my purchases and I automatically replied “Thanks! Have a good one!”. Some stereotypes I guess are really true!!

I tried Walker’s Cheese & Onion crisps today - they are pretty good. I am going to be adventurous and try Prawn Cocktail soon. Although it will take me awhile to get to where I can safely eat Badger flavour. (Its not real badger.. don’t know why its called that).  I’m off now to my local Waitrose (http://www.waitrose.com/) where I hear I can buy American food. We’ll see…

Counting down the hours until the LOST Season 6 premiere… for some reason, we get it a good few days after the U.S. - its been killing me not to Google it and get spoilers. SO DON’T TELL ME ANYTHING!!! :)

Ok, finally leaving work after a long day, during which all my travel plans for this month changed. No longer going to Canada, Mexico or Japan this month - everythings been moved to March or May. But I think Tokyo in May will be much better anyway, so I’m not upset. There is a chance I’ll be going to Cyprus next month, and that’s also not a bad thing. My life could indeed be worse!

Federman out.

Achtung, Baby!

Mood: Exhausted

Theme Song: Anything by Herr David Hasselhoff, including that awesome video of him eating a hamburger

Sitting in my hotel room in Munich, totally exhausted. I had to get up at 2:30am GMT to make my 06:30am flight this morning. Even though I took an Ambien and went to bed around 7:30pm last night, I still didn’t really sleep. I never do when I know I have to get up at an ungodly hour. I managed the drive to Gatwick without incident, but I was so tired that I - a) parked in the South Terminal parking lot when I was flying out of the North Terminal (got all the way to security before it was pointed out to me that I was in the wrong terminal - and so I got to take the intra-terminal bus complete with drunken British rider) and also b) managed to leave my clear plastic bag full of my liquids behind at security. I hope I didn’t freak anyone out by abandoning my travel-size Aquafresh and miniature hotel conditioner (that I stole from my last hotel). Of course I didn’t realize that I left these behind until I checked into my hotel this evening. Luckily the nice German guy at the desk gave me a free travel-size toothpaste.

I took my first EasyJet flight - and aside from the cattle stampede to board (there are no assigned seats, so its worse than Southwest with its A, B, and C groups), I found it to be just fine. I ended up with a whole row to myself since only insane people take a flight at 6am, and I managed to get about an hour’s worth of semi-sleep. You know, I hate to point this out because I don’t want to pick on the British race as a whole, but I have noticed some legendary halitosis over here. As in so bad I want to gag stanky breath. And by and large, it is all the same noxious odour. (It’s a British smell, so it gets the extra “u”). So… either I’m hyper-sensitive to funky breath or there is something in the food/water/tea that causes people to smell like they are rotting from the inside out. I don’t know what it is, but it is really, REALLY difficult to be near.


*Note - my British friend Jess does NOT have stank breath or stank anything. I just wanted to clear that up. I am speaking strictly of random weird co-workers and a cornucopia of strangers at Heathrow/on the Eurostar/on the parking lot bus/etc.

After I cleared immigration and came out to the taxi stand at Munich airport, I was rather confused because there was no sort of taxi queue at all. Just a bunch of taxis all lined up, and I didn’t know where to begin. I also didn’t know which ones were “real” taxis and which were gypsy cabs. It didn’t help things that a scary looking swarthy dude hopped out of one of them and started screaming at me (in heavily accented English) “You! You miss! You in cab! Now! In the cab, go! You!” I may be missing a few words, but that was the gist of his outburst. I looked at him and said, “Oh, nononono. HELL no. Not at 9am. I need someone who speaks English”. I didn’t add “and also doesn’t look like they want to knife-rape me in a dark German alley”. I went back into the terminal and found a group of men having a bit of a koffee klatsch. After busting out my horrid German “spreich-en-zee Aing-lisch?” I found a non-felonious looking one to take me to our German offices.

On the way there I couldn’t help but notice how flat - and boring - the area on either side of the highway was. I was also cracking up at the signs I saw saying “Ausfahrt”. Until I put two and two together and figured out that there couldn’t be that many places with the same name and it had to mean “Exit” or “Warning”. (Turns out it meant exit - its still damn funny.) It was nice to be on the “right” side of the road again, though. And no roundy-roundys! Just normal turns and exits - yay!!

Oh, and people over here put a melodious sound to my last name - its “Fey-der-mahn”. No “Feed-er-man”. Or, as I recall from one really bad visit to the doctor’s office when I was little, “Urn Fid-dermun”. And that’s on the real, yo.

We had lunch in the office park “canteen” - basically a cafeteria that offers a discount to the companies who are in that area. I had roasted chicken - Henckel something or other, a tomato and “oh-live” mix (pronouced “oh” and “live” like “Live! In concert…”), and yellow rice. It was pretty good, once I picked out the olives. I was shocked to see that weinerschnitzel is not a weiner at all, but some kind of flat pork patty. And german potato salad looks nothing like I remember from countless Cincinnati picnics.

I had dinner with a colleague at a pretty nice restaurant near the hotel, where I had a real German riesling (not super sweet like in America). I also took advantage of the restaurant’s “Steak Happy Hour”. Seriously, with a name like that, how could I not? The menu even said, in English, “Happy Steak Days!”. It came with some vegetables and a baked potato with a dill yogurt sauce that was surprisingly good. I passed on the espresso because I’d actually like to sleep again this week.

Tomorrow is more meetings and then back to Gatwick on the evening flight. It snowed a bit this afternoon so I hope it doesn’t keep up again tomorrow, as I’d really like to get home at a reasonable hour. The good news is that I’ve got a “tea” date with some work friends on Saturday and I am going to try to get together with the two women I met at last weekend’s housewarming party. Trying to enjoy my weekends at home before the whirlwind travel later this month wherein I will hit Canada, the U.S., Mexico, possibly Japan and then Brussels. All within roughly 3 weeks. Yeah, I know I asked for this, but it doesn’t make all the long flights any more fun!!

Before I literally pass out, some more random thoughts -

• It is SOOOO American to say “Have a nice day!”. No one in England does that, and I can’t seem to help myself!
• At the end of a phone conversation, the Brits will say “Bye!” but put a high inflection on the end like it is a question almost. Totally confused me for the first few weeks I was over here.
• I told one of the ladies in the neighbourhood that I was decorating my flat and she thought I was painting and renovating the place. Turns out my version of decorating (i.e. hanging a few pictures, putting out knick-knacks, etc) does not jibe with the UK version.

I can’t stress this enough - Americans are UNBELIEVABLY spoiled by convenience and service. We aren’t used to waiting for things and we like to get what we want, when we want it. I literally have to stop myself from getting pissed off when I encounter a situation that in the U.S. would be deemed “unacceptable”. For example, terrible service. Over here, its kind of like “just deal with it”. Or waiting in line for ages… and ages… and ages. It just happens. And I’m pretty sure that “the customer is always right” has never made it across the pond.

Off to try to fall asleep, though I’m pretty intruiged by all the American TV that is dubbed over in German. EVERYTHING is funnier in German. So far I’ve seen German American Idol, German Cops, CSI: New York (in German) and now Desperate Housewives. Sadly, in the case of the latter, changing the language hasn’t improved the programming at all.

Federman out.
Guten Nacht, y'all..