Cyprus

Mood: AntsyTheme Song: “Guilty Until Proven Innocent” - Jay Z and R. Kelly (hit Shuffle on my iPod, this is what I got!)

Wanted to take some time to talk about Cyprus, which was beautiful. Unfortunately I had some sort of British dysentery the whole time, so I spent a great deal of time in the resort’s lovely well-appointed ladies rooms. :( We flew into Pahpos airport, which is on the south coast. Apparently there is another airport on the other side of the island too. On the drive from the airport to the resort, I noticed that Cyprus - at least to my eyes - reminds me alot of a combination between Northern California (the lush hills combined with rocky mountain) and Hawaii (smell of ocean, beachfront). It was an interesting juxtaposition.

The resort itself was really beautiful. (see photo above) Although they must have been running a Centrum Silver special because there were old people EVERYWHERE. And it wasn’t even that warm out. Nothing like starting one’s day by walking past really old people in really small bathing suits. Looked like chicken livers and chicken skin everywhere! (This confirms my desire to have my consciousness transferred into a robot body as soon as said technology becomes available. I’m fairly confident this will happen in my lifetime). Another thing that was interesting is that there were stray cats all over the place - I think I counted four at one time. They weren’t feral or mean, just little cute kitties all over the resort. I guess Cyprus has a cat problem or something. It doesn’t help probably that tourists (read: me) like to feed them. But they’re sooo cute. I was disappointed they didn’t meow in Greek though. I wanted the kitty to open its mouth and say “νιάου νιάου”.


The first full day we were in training, we had what the resort calls a Full Mezze lunch. Which consisted of 2.5 hours of people continuously bringing food. Now, this would be a dream situation for my little brother, as well as several other males in my life. But for us, given we were on a work schedule, it was like a food nightmare. First there was the greek salad (yum, minus the olives). Then came some seafood. And more seafood. And then some more seafood. Then came some chicken. And lamb. And then some more seafood. And then some meat. And then side dishes. We had to call a time-out to stop the dessert procession. The poor resort employees really did look offended that we didn’t want more food. And poor me, sitting there with dysentery, I couldn’t really take advantage of anything on offer. And I love mediterranean food!


The other big adventure was the night we all went out for a group dinner. So it was me (American), a Brit, a Welshman, three Israelis, two Lebanese, and a Maltesean. And we go to this Cyprian restaurant. It smelled heavenly walking in and I was actually really hungry. I was feeling a bit better and so I ordered the greek salad to start. Which came out HUGE. Like Cheesecake Factory-size huge. After a few pieces of bread and that salad, I was ready for bed. But I soldiered onward and decided to try what was described as a local version of beef stew. It was a bit chilly outside and I thought Oooh comfort food. Yeah, not such a good idea. It was horrible! I spent the rest of the evening cracking up laughing and trying to figure out how to hide the food so the waiter wouldn’t see that I wasn’t eating it. The waiter had really given me a hard time for not finishing my salad, convinced something was wrong with it. And I had the whole “picky American” stereotype to deal with as well, and so me thinking the main dish was uh-scusting was not helping. It tasted like beef…covered in cinnamon and some other weird spice and then sauteed in tomato sauce for like 54 years. I am sure someone finds that combination lovely - but it wasn’t me!!


 All this talk of food has made me hungry, so I’m off to grab a late lunch. More later!

Federman out!

Drivin' Me Crazy

Mood: Hungry
Theme Song: "Drivin Me Wild" - Common feat Lily Allen

Before I launch into my Cyprian adventure, I have GOT to talk about my left-hand manual transmission adventures!!! So I got my new work car about a week or so ago. We had two choices - an Audi A3 TDI something or other, or an Audi A4 sedan something-or-other. Since we get taxed on the value of the car, I chose the A3. The tax is also based on on the emissions of the vehicle, and the A3 had the lowest of that too. I picked black becasue I've always wanted a black car. So the nice little man comes from Audi to drop off the car. The car itself is lovely - new, shiny, clean... and freaking backwards! I had an Audi in the U.S. and so I'm familiar with where everything is and how they lay things out on the dashboard, etc. What I'm not cool with is the gear shift on the left. Its sooo weird.
So after signing all the paperwork, I had to immediately go to the Canterbury City Council office to get my new parking permit. I park in a lot next to my flat and my pass is tied to the registration of my vehicle (my license plate number). I had no choice but to go get a new one, or get ticketed. And the only way I could get there was to drive my new car. I was having flashbacks to the first time I drove a manual transmission in the U.S. (I bought a car and had to drive it home, simple as that. Now THAT was an entertaining ride)

So I pulled out my lot...and immediately stalled. I got it going again and managed to get to the first roundabout before I stalled out again. Take it from me, British people get pretty pissy when you stall out in a roundy-roundy. So I got the car going again, and then hit the problem of third gear. I don't know why, but third gear always gives me issues - no matter what car I drive. I kept getting into all kinds of other gears - 4th, 5th, 2nd - it was a big old mess. By the time I stalled out in the second roundy-roundy, I was about to get out and drop kick the damn car. I was so upset, crying and cursing. Mostly I was mad at myself for not being able to drive a car at 33 years old. I finally managed to get to the council office, and the smell of burning engine/rubber/whatever was tremendous.

I went into the council office and signed in (its England, of course there's a queue!). Only to be chatted up by a guy who informed me that he was waiting for both Housing and Income Benefits. So basically this guy is hitting on me and he has neither a job nor a place to live. And he was tricked out in sweatpants, a Sean Jean t-shirt and Crocs. I'm not making this up. He then asked me if he could ring me sometime, could he have my phone number. I was so off my normal game that the best I could muster was that he could give me his number and maybe I'd call. To which he replied that he didn't exactly have a phone. I couldn't help myself, I had to ask how exactly he planned on phoning me then? Oh, he says, I would just go 'round my mates. His phone should be turned back on again soon. Thankfully at that point they called my number and I got to escape. But not before I got a gap-toothed leer from my new little friend.

After that, I was able to calm down sufficiently to be able to drive to my next destination - which, luckily, was a friend's house. Since then I've managed to drive around with minimal incidents - I think I've only stalled out twice since then. My biggest problem is downshifting. My left hand isn't used to the motions yet and I think I err to far one way or the other and end up in all kinds of weird gears. Hopefully the little German car can handle my nonsense for a few more weeks until I get used to this left-hand business. I also apparently need to learn to drive closer to the center line - I guess I'm overcompensating out of fear and driving way too close to the left curb. I haven't hit anything yet, but I've scared the beejeezus out of people in the car with me. I tried to explain that I'm not a bad driver, I'm just freaked out by cars coming at me when I'm sitting in what should be the damn passenger seat!! But I have faith in myself - I think it will all be okay. I need to get my UK driver's license sometime this year and I want to do it before we hit the artic conditions again... so probably September/October time frame. I see some UK driving lessons in my near future...

Oh! And before I forget, even the damn British people treat the roundy-roundy's like a free for all. I learned the rules and I try to follow them but just like in the States, there are idiots who just take up whatever lane and go wherever they want. Which is not cool - especially when you're going in a circle, shifting left-handed and not always sure where you're going. I soooo want to plant a huge American flag on top of my car - I bet they would back off then!!

I did learn about things called bollards.(took me awhile to figure out how it was spelled because of the accent over here). What is a bollard? Check it out here - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bollard. They are in the middle of roads...well, I'm not sure exactly why, but I think its to show you what side of the road to be on or something. It looks like even the Brits need reminding.

I have a new favorite game. I call someone British and they say "No, I'm English/Scottish/Irish" and I say "Same difference" and watch them get angry. :P Yep that's me, making friends all over the world!

Federman out.

Bits n Bobs from Brussels

Mood: Positive
Theme Song: "You Got Me" by The Roots feat Erkyah Badu (just because its what's on my iPod right now)

Greetings! I know its been ridiculously long since I've posted anything new and all I can say is sorry, sorry, sorry! The past few weeks have been a whirlwind and every time I sat down to try to write something, I either ran out of internet time or found myself with a horrendous case of writer's block.

So last week I was in lovely Brussels, which I really liked. Especially when I found out that although many people do speak Dutch, French is the main language of the city. I just love using my French, and it actually came in handy in a few cases where we needed to clarify food orders/directions, etc. I really liked the city - it was neat mix of old and new and reminded me of a mini-Paris in many ways. There are lots of little squares and it wasn't hard to imagine people of hundreds of years ago gathering there on a warm sunny day. There were cobblestones everywhere, and while they were MURDER to walk on, I couldn't help but imagine myself strolling along in a long dress, complete with corset, parasol and mustachio'ed gentleman on my arm.

One of the lessons I'm learning is that food service outside the U.S. is a relative term. The concept of greeting a table within 2 minutes to take their drink order is laughable over here. If you're going to a restaurant, be prepared to wait. And wait. And wait. I can't figure out if its bad service or if its just a different understanding/appreciation for time. Or a combination of both. My American-ness has me getting antsy if I've been sitting at a table longer than a few minutes and no one has come over to introduce themselves and mumble a list of specials at me. On that note, people at work make terrible fun of how American waiters and waitresses insist on introducing themselves - like they're on a date or job interview. As one of my coworkers said, "I don't care what your name is! I just want my bloody food!" LOL

After a few days in Brussels I never wanted to see another french fry, ham and cheese sandwich or omelette. I mean I love all of those things, but in moderation. I was so thankful when two Belgian women working our booth were kind enough to take me to an out-of-the-way local cafe for some real food. I had a wonderful leafy green salad with parma ham and parmesan shavings and ripe red tomatoes and I was in foodie heaven. It was so good that I took two of my co-workers there on Friday for our end-of-show celebratory lunch and I had a lovely strip steak that melted in my mouth. Best meat I've had in Europe so far.

I have to congratulate myself because I only ate three pieces of chocolate while in Brussels - and there are chocolatiers everywhere. Our hotel was literally next door to a place called "Chocopolis". Six months ago, between the chocolate and frites, I would have been like Hungry Hungry Hippo all over town, but I'm trying to behave myself. Those three pieces were divine, though. Yummy, yummy, yummy!

So I guess when I look back on Brussels, the following come to mind:

• Cobblestone streets - beautiful to look at, evil to walk on (even in flats)
• Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate
• Waffles and frites 
• Beautiful architecture - the Grand Place is stunning. Reminded me of the Louvre in its absolute beauty and scope. So hard to imagine people taking the time to design and build things like this - without computers or any real sense of what the finished product would look like... and often without any guarantee that they would even live to see its completion! That's something I don't miss about America - our lack of stunning historical architecture
• French, french, french - I got to speak French! :)
• Pink Elephant Beer - at something like 8% it is deadly. Definitely made me stupid.
• A Real DJ! We all went out one night and thank heavens for the lovely DJ who played actual, real contemporary music. No theme from Baywatch. No 80s revival. No weird Brit pop. I was a happy, happy girl

Finally, the last thing I think of is that I definitely want to go back. It was about a 1.5h train ride from Ashford - so easy! I can definitely see myself going back for a mini-break (weekend away). :)

Drivin' Me Crazy

Mood: Hungry
Theme Song: “Drivin Me Wild” - Common feat Lily Allen

Before I launch into my Cyprian adventure, I have GOT to talk about my left-hand manual transmission adventures!!! So I got my new work car about a week or so ago. We had two choices - an Audi A3 TDI something or other, or an Audi A4 sedan something-or-other. Since we get taxed on the value of the car, I chose the A3. The tax is also based on on the emissions of the vehicle, and the A3 had the lowest of that too. I picked black becasue I’ve always wanted a black car. So the nice little man comes from Audi to drop off the car. The car itself is lovely - new, shiny, clean… and freaking backwards! I had an Audi in the U.S. and so I’m familiar with where everything is and how they lay things out on the dashboard, etc. What I’m not cool with is the gear shift on the left. Its sooo weird.
So after signing all the paperwork, I had to immediately go to the Canterbury City Council office to get my new parking permit. I park in a lot next to my flat and my pass is tied to the registration of my vehicle (my license plate number). I had no choice but to go get a new one, or get ticketed. And the only way I could get there was to drive my new car. I was having flashbacks to the first time I drove a manual transmission in the U.S. (I bought a car and had to drive it home, simple as that. Now THAT was an entertaining ride)

So I pulled out my lot…and immediately stalled. I got it going again and managed to get to the first roundabout before I stalled out again. Take it from me, British people get pretty pissy when you stall out in a roundy-roundy. So I got the car going again, and then hit the problem of third gear. I don’t know why, but third gear always gives me issues - no matter what car I drive. I kept getting into all kinds of other gears - 4th, 5th, 2nd - it was a big old mess. By the time I stalled out in the second roundy-roundy, I was about to get out and drop kick the damn car. I was so upset, crying and cursing. Mostly I was mad at myself for not being able to drive a car at 33 years old. I finally managed to get to the council office, and the smell of burning engine/rubber/whatever was tremendous.

I went into the council office and signed in (its England, of course there’s a queue!). Only to be chatted up by a guy who informed me that he was waiting for both Housing and Income Benefits. So basically this guy is hitting on me and he has neither a job nor a place to live. And he was tricked out in sweatpants, a Sean Jean t-shirt and Crocs. I’m not making this up. He then asked me if he could ring me sometime, could he have my phone number. I was so off my normal game that the best I could muster was that he could give me his number and maybe I’d call. To which he replied that he didn’t exactly have a phone. I couldn’t help myself, I had to ask how exactly he planned on phoning me then? Oh, he says, I would just go ‘round my mates. His phone should be turned back on again soon. Thankfully at that point they called my number and I got to escape. But not before I got a gap-toothed leer from my new little friend.

After that, I was able to calm down sufficiently to be able to drive to my next destination - which, luckily, was a friend’s house. Since then I’ve managed to drive around with minimal incidents - I think I’ve only stalled out twice since then. My biggest problem is downshifting. My left hand isn’t used to the motions yet and I think I err to far one way or the other and end up in all kinds of weird gears. Hopefully the little German car can handle my nonsense for a few more weeks until I get used to this left-hand business. I also apparently need to learn to drive closer to the center line - I guess I’m overcompensating out of fear and driving way too close to the left curb. I haven’t hit anything yet, but I’ve scared the beejeezus out of people in the car with me. I tried to explain that I’m not a bad driver, I’m just freaked out by cars coming at me when I’m sitting in what should be the damn passenger seat!! But I have faith in myself - I think it will all be okay. I need to get my UK driver’s license sometime this year and I want to do it before we hit the artic conditions again… so probably September/October time frame. I see some UK driving lessons in my near future…

Oh! And before I forget, even the damn British people treat the roundy-roundy’s like a free for all. I learned the rules and I try to follow them but just like in the States, there are idiots who just take up whatever lane and go wherever they want. Which is not cool - especially when you’re going in a circle, shifting left-handed and not always sure where you’re going. I soooo want to plant a huge American flag on top of my car - I bet they would back off then!!

I did learn about things called bollards.(took me awhile to figure out how it was spelled because of the accent over here). What is a bollard? Check it out here - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bollard. They are in the middle of roads…well, I’m not sure exactly why, but I think its to show you what side of the road to be on or something. It looks like even the Brits need reminding.

I have a new favorite game. I call someone British and they say “No, I’m English/Scottish/Irish” and I say “Same difference” and watch them get angry. :P Yep that’s me, making friends all over the world!

Federman out.

Bits n Bobs from Brussels

Mood: Positive
Theme Song: “You Got Me” by The Roots feat Erkyah Badu (just because its what’s on my iPod right now)

Greetings! I know its been ridiculously long since I’ve posted anything new and all I can say is sorry, sorry, sorry! The past few weeks have been a whirlwind and every time I sat down to try to write something, I either ran out of internet time or found myself with a horrendous case of writer’s block.

So last week I was in lovely Brussels, which I really liked. Especially when I found out that although many people do speak Dutch, French is the main language of the city. I just love using my French, and it actually came in handy in a few cases where we needed to clarify food orders/directions, etc. I really liked the city - it was neat mix of old and new and reminded me of a mini-Paris in many ways. There are lots of little squares and it wasn’t hard to imagine people of hundreds of years ago gathering there on a warm sunny day. There were cobblestones everywhere, and while they were MURDER to walk on, I couldn’t help but imagine myself strolling along in a long dress, complete with corset, parasol and mustachio'ed gentleman on my arm.

One of the lessons I’m learning is that food service outside the U.S. is a relative term. The concept of greeting a table within 2 minutes to take their drink order is laughable over here. If you’re going to a restaurant, be prepared to wait. And wait. And wait. I can’t figure out if its bad service or if its just a different understanding/appreciation for time. Or a combination of both. My American-ness has me getting antsy if I’ve been sitting at a table longer than a few minutes and no one has come over to introduce themselves and mumble a list of specials at me. On that note, people at work make terrible fun of how American waiters and waitresses insist on introducing themselves - like they’re on a date or job interview. As one of my coworkers said, “I don’t care what your name is! I just want my bloody food!” LOL

After a few days in Brussels I never wanted to see another french fry, ham and cheese sandwich or omelette. I mean I love all of those things, but in moderation. I was so thankful when two Belgian women working our booth were kind enough to take me to an out-of-the-way local cafe for some real food. I had a wonderful leafy green salad with parma ham and parmesan shavings and ripe red tomatoes and I was in foodie heaven. It was so good that I took two of my co-workers there on Friday for our end-of-show celebratory lunch and I had a lovely strip steak that melted in my mouth. Best meat I’ve had in Europe so far.

I have to congratulate myself because I only ate three pieces of chocolate while in Brussels - and there are chocolatiers everywhere. Our hotel was literally next door to a place called “Chocopolis”. Six months ago, between the chocolate and frites, I would have been like Hungry Hungry Hippo all over town, but I’m trying to behave myself. Those three pieces were divine, though. Yummy, yummy, yummy!

So I guess when I look back on Brussels, the following come to mind:

• Cobblestone streets - beautiful to look at, evil to walk on (even in flats)
• Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate
• Waffles and frites 
• Beautiful architecture - the Grand Place is stunning. Reminded me of the Louvre in its absolute beauty and scope. So hard to imagine people taking the time to design and build things like this - without computers or any real sense of what the finished product would look like… and often without any guarantee that they would even live to see its completion! That’s something I don’t miss about America - our lack of stunning historical architecture
• French, french, french - I got to speak French! :)
• Pink Elephant Beer - at something like 8% it is deadly. Definitely made me stupid.
• A Real DJ! We all went out one night and thank heavens for the lovely DJ who played actual, real contemporary music. No theme from Baywatch. No 80s revival. No weird Brit pop. I was a happy, happy girl

Finally, the last thing I think of is that I definitely want to go back. It was about a 1.5h train ride from Ashford - so easy! I can definitely see myself going back for a mini-break (weekend away). :)

P.S. Other Exciting News

I get my real work car tomorrow. Bye, bye little French car with the oh-so-easy automatic transmission. Hello, brand-new German car with the left-hand manual transmission. Just when I've almost got the hang of driving on the other side of the road, roundabouts and reading the damn road while I drive... I now have to get used to shifting with the wrong hand! *headdesk*

Also, in the other exciting news category, one of my new British friends has solved the Egyptian mystery of my heating timer. After I received an £80 gas bill (roughly $120 for one month), I had a bit of a Come To Jesus phone call with British Gas. I actually got a human being with a brain who was nice enough to suggest that my bill was so high because even though I had my thermostat turned down during the day, I had my heat set on "Constant". I didn't even bother explaining that in America your heat is either on, or its off. We do not have a system where there are 87 million buttons to push and dials to turn and whanot. Even old American thermostats just have a little lever (on, off, auto) and a dial (with real Fahrenheit temperatures!!)

Somehow my friend was able to use his Y chromosome powers for good versus evil and decipher the hieroglyphics enough in order to set the blasted thing up properly. I was was doing the Shamon! happy dance all over my house last night when I came home and then listened to the boiler do its turning on gurgly-gurgle precisely at 19 o'clock like it was supposed to. Happy, happy, joy, joy! I can now afford to eat again as I won't be spending all my £££ on UK utility bills!

Speaking of o'clocks, I just love saying things like, "Let's schedule that meeting at 15 o'clock". I have pointed out many times how weird it is that UK is on military time - only to be corrected and told that its not "military time" - its just 24hour clock time. Toma-to, To-mah-to. Thanks to the movie STRIPES, it will always be military time to me, and accompanied in my head by the "Doo-wah-ditty-ditty-dum-ditty-do" song. What's really cool is when it turns midnight and my microwave, oven and alarm clock all say that its 00:00 o'clock. It's zero o'clock! It's none o'clock! *Sigh* Yes, I do happen to be very easily amused, thank you.

Federman out - for reals this time.

Back in the 21st Century Again - Have You Missed Me??

Mood: Excited, Hungry
Listening To: "Ching Ching" - Ms. Jade feat Nelly Furtado

Dear Lord baby Jesus, lyin' there in your ghost manger, just lookin' at your Baby Einstein developmental videos, learnin' 'bout shapes and colors. I would like to thank you for the wankers at SKY finally sending me the router and hooking up my interwebs. Amen.

Wow, after not having an internet connection in SO LONG, I am not even sure where to begin. It's officially been exactly 2 months since I made the big move - but it feels like so much longer! England doesn't feel like "home" yet, but I have come a long way since my days of hanging out in an Ashford hotel room eating chili con carne every night (because it was edible, low calorie and did not have mayonnaise on it). I am really glad that I chose Canterbury as my new 'hood (big ups to Joe and Marianne for the recommendation!) - the town is just the perfect size. I've spent several weekends wandering around, exploring, and I've still yet to scratch the surface of all the shops, side streets, nooks and crannies. It seems like I'm always noticing something new, which is awesome. Because, after living out of hotels on two continents for three months, I am thrilled to have a break from the monotony.

Side note: I get made fun of all the time for saying things like "awesome". I'm not sure why the Brits find this to be so amusing but they do. Other things I've been made fun for are (in no particular order of importance) - "Have a nice day!", being overly enthusiastic about everything (yes, this is an Erin trait, but it also apparently is an American trait too), "missing you already" (I don't say this, but I know people who do). Today at lunch I was asked why Americans feel the need to say "vahhhzz" instead of "vase" (with a long "a"). I pointed out that its usually only really pretentious Americans who say things like that. I was next attacked becasue we pronounce the word "route" like "rowt". As opposed to the British way - "root". I tried to explain that the way they were saying it meant digging, or that the plumber was coming (RotoRooter!) - but it didn't really help. We then got into a side discussion of what happened to all the extra "u"s in American English (i.e. Brits say "favour"; we say "favor", etc). No one had a really good explanation, and I still prefer Jasper Fforde's reasoning. For those of you who aren't Thursday Next fans (shame on you!), the theory is that due to black market dealings and other factors, there was a letter shortage in the Text Sea (you have to read the books to understand) - so a decision was made to conserve letters by taking them away from places like America and Canada where "no one would notice anyway".

At least once a week since I've been here, I've had it pointed out to me that Americans suffer from a superiority complex. I argued this at first, but I'm coming around to the British point of view. For example, I think nothing of saying - as a joke - "well that's because I am the coolest person in the world!" or something similar. In America, people would know I'm exaggerating and making a joke. Over here, I run the risk of being perceived as arrogant, as the Brits (as a whole) tend to be reserved, understated and not prone to tooting their own horns.

I have been asked a few times why Americans think they are so much better than the rest of the world. My instinctive response? "Because we are". LOL - thus proving the point! Questions like that that seriously make me think, though. As Americans we are raised to believe that we are in the "greatest country on the earth", and that America leads the world in pretty much everything (exceptions being vodka consumption and stoicism (Russia), swarthiness (Latin America) and understated disdain (France)). I have pointed out that this is called patriotism and pride. Ye Olde British people have most assuredly disagreed - they see it as being arrogant, xenophobic and cocky. I am really struggling with this one because it is so a part of my nature. Like if someone at work compliments me on a project, I think nothing of responding "It's a hard job being so perfect, but someone's got to do it!". I'm totally kidding, but it doesn't always come across that way.

I can see things from others perspectives - the USA does indeed throw its weight around alot, and as the world's largest superpower, drives a great deal of world policy. But, its as I told a friend the other night, I think its just like Spiderman. "With great power comes great responsibility".  That's why America ends up involved in all kinds of things outside our own borders, whether we really want to or not. I also think that non-Americans forget that when the USA does abstain from getting involved in any sort of fracas, then we are criticised for being uncaring, selfish and not being good global citizens. It's kind of a no-win situation in a way.

Moving on to more entertaining topics...
Going out at night here is unbelievably entertaining. I am not going to touch the music or atmosphere right now - just the clothing choices. In Ireland, I noticed that the girls all wore fancy dress out (basically something we Americans would wear to a cocktail dinner, nice date, etc). I rarely saw jeans or anything super casual. Here in the jolly old, things are a bit more... extreme. I don't know who started it or why, but the current fashion seems to be to dress like the skankiest prostitute you've ever seen. And I'm not kidding. A sample outfit I've seen alot is a really short dress (I'm talking barely cover your bum short), knee highs, black patent leather stripper shoes (4-6" heels, platform bottoms). No coat, and the dress is often strapless or sleeveless. Another big look is those leggings that look like liquid vinyl - paired with a bustier top and the stripper shoes. I think of everything, its the damn shoes that get to me. This is England, land of not so great roads. Where I live, the roads definitely have a cobblestone-y feel. Walking on them in flat shoes is okay, but add any kind of heel and it gets a bit tricky. I have no idea how these girls navigate them in those shoes, and when drunk.  That's the other thing. People over here drink. They do not mess around. It's like they are afraid that by next weekend all the alcohol will be gone or something. I do believe this is a major factor as to why people think its a good idea to stand in the middle of my street at 2am and start singing.

I'm tired, and I still haven't eaten anything for dinner (and its 23 o'clock here!), so I'm going to sign off. But rest assured, the wit and wisdom of E-Dawg are back! You can look forward to regular amusing updates, especially since the next three weeks will take me to Brussels, Cyprus and lovely Tijuana!

Cheers all.
Federman out.

P.S. Other Exciting News

I get my real work car tomorrow. Bye, bye little French car with the oh-so-easy automatic transmission. Hello, brand-new German car with the left-hand manual transmission. Just when I’ve almost got the hang of driving on the other side of the road, roundabouts and reading the damn road while I drive… I now have to get used to shifting with the wrong hand! *headdesk*

Also, in the other exciting news category, one of my new British friends has solved the Egyptian mystery of my heating timer. After I received an £80 gas bill (roughly $120 for one month), I had a bit of a Come To Jesus phone call with British Gas. I actually got a human being with a brain who was nice enough to suggest that my bill was so high because even though I had my thermostat turned down during the day, I had my heat set on “Constant”. I didn’t even bother explaining that in America your heat is either on, or its off. We do not have a system where there are 87 million buttons to push and dials to turn and whanot. Even old American thermostats just have a little lever (on, off, auto) and a dial (with real Fahrenheit temperatures!!)

Somehow my friend was able to use his Y chromosome powers for good versus evil and decipher the hieroglyphics enough in order to set the blasted thing up properly. I was was doing the Shamon! happy dance all over my house last night when I came home and then listened to the boiler do its turning on gurgly-gurgle precisely at 19 o'clock like it was supposed to. Happy, happy, joy, joy! I can now afford to eat again as I won’t be spending all my £££ on UK utility bills!

Speaking of o'clocks, I just love saying things like, “Let’s schedule that meeting at 15 o'clock”. I have pointed out many times how weird it is that UK is on military time - only to be corrected and told that its not “military time” - its just 24hour clock time. Toma-to, To-mah-to. Thanks to the movie STRIPES, it will always be military time to me, and accompanied in my head by the “Doo-wah-ditty-ditty-dum-ditty-do” song. What’s really cool is when it turns midnight and my microwave, oven and alarm clock all say that its 00:00 o'clock. It’s zero o'clock! It’s none o'clock! *Sigh* Yes, I do happen to be very easily amused, thank you.

Federman out - for reals this time.

Back in the 21st Century Again - Have You Missed Me??

Mood: Excited, Hungry
Listening To: “Ching Ching” - Ms. Jade feat Nelly Furtado

Dear Lord baby Jesus, lyin’ there in your ghost manger, just lookin’ at your Baby Einstein developmental videos, learnin’ ‘bout shapes and colors. I would like to thank you for the wankers at SKY finally sending me the router and hooking up my interwebs. Amen.

Wow, after not having an internet connection in SO LONG, I am not even sure where to begin. It’s officially been exactly 2 months since I made the big move - but it feels like so much longer! England doesn’t feel like “home” yet, but I have come a long way since my days of hanging out in an Ashford hotel room eating chili con carne every night (because it was edible, low calorie and did not have mayonnaise on it). I am really glad that I chose Canterbury as my new 'hood (big ups to Joe and Marianne for the recommendation!) - the town is just the perfect size. I’ve spent several weekends wandering around, exploring, and I’ve still yet to scratch the surface of all the shops, side streets, nooks and crannies. It seems like I’m always noticing something new, which is awesome. Because, after living out of hotels on two continents for three months, I am thrilled to have a break from the monotony.

Side note: I get made fun of all the time for saying things like “awesome”. I’m not sure why the Brits find this to be so amusing but they do. Other things I’ve been made fun for are (in no particular order of importance) - “Have a nice day!”, being overly enthusiastic about everything (yes, this is an Erin trait, but it also apparently is an American trait too), “missing you already” (I don’t say this, but I know people who do). Today at lunch I was asked why Americans feel the need to say “vahhhzz” instead of “vase” (with a long “a”). I pointed out that its usually only really pretentious Americans who say things like that. I was next attacked becasue we pronounce the word “route” like “rowt”. As opposed to the British way - “root”. I tried to explain that the way they were saying it meant digging, or that the plumber was coming (RotoRooter!) - but it didn’t really help. We then got into a side discussion of what happened to all the extra “u"s in American English (i.e. Brits say "favour”; we say “favor”, etc). No one had a really good explanation, and I still prefer Jasper Fforde’s reasoning. For those of you who aren’t Thursday Next fans (shame on you!), the theory is that due to black market dealings and other factors, there was a letter shortage in the Text Sea (you have to read the books to understand) - so a decision was made to conserve letters by taking them away from places like America and Canada where “no one would notice anyway”.

At least once a week since I’ve been here, I’ve had it pointed out to me that Americans suffer from a superiority complex. I argued this at first, but I’m coming around to the British point of view. For example, I think nothing of saying - as a joke - “well that’s because I am the coolest person in the world!” or something similar. In America, people would know I’m exaggerating and making a joke. Over here, I run the risk of being perceived as arrogant, as the Brits (as a whole) tend to be reserved, understated and not prone to tooting their own horns.

I have been asked a few times why Americans think they are so much better than the rest of the world. My instinctive response? “Because we are”. LOL - thus proving the point! Questions like that that seriously make me think, though. As Americans we are raised to believe that we are in the “greatest country on the earth”, and that America leads the world in pretty much everything (exceptions being vodka consumption and stoicism (Russia), swarthiness (Latin America) and understated disdain (France)). I have pointed out that this is called patriotism and pride. Ye Olde British people have most assuredly disagreed - they see it as being arrogant, xenophobic and cocky. I am really struggling with this one because it is so a part of my nature. Like if someone at work compliments me on a project, I think nothing of responding “It’s a hard job being so perfect, but someone’s got to do it!”. I’m totally kidding, but it doesn’t always come across that way.

I can see things from others perspectives - the USA does indeed throw its weight around alot, and as the world’s largest superpower, drives a great deal of world policy. But, its as I told a friend the other night, I think its just like Spiderman. “With great power comes great responsibility”.  That’s why America ends up involved in all kinds of things outside our own borders, whether we really want to or not. I also think that non-Americans forget that when the USA does abstain from getting involved in any sort of fracas, then we are criticised for being uncaring, selfish and not being good global citizens. It’s kind of a no-win situation in a way.

Moving on to more entertaining topics…
Going out at night here is unbelievably entertaining. I am not going to touch the music or atmosphere right now - just the clothing choices. In Ireland, I noticed that the girls all wore fancy dress out (basically something we Americans would wear to a cocktail dinner, nice date, etc). I rarely saw jeans or anything super casual. Here in the jolly old, things are a bit more… extreme. I don’t know who started it or why, but the current fashion seems to be to dress like the skankiest prostitute you’ve ever seen. And I’m not kidding. A sample outfit I’ve seen alot is a really short dress (I’m talking barely cover your bum short), knee highs, black patent leather stripper shoes (4-6" heels, platform bottoms). No coat, and the dress is often strapless or sleeveless. Another big look is those leggings that look like liquid vinyl - paired with a bustier top and the stripper shoes. I think of everything, its the damn shoes that get to me. This is England, land of not so great roads. Where I live, the roads definitely have a cobblestone-y feel. Walking on them in flat shoes is okay, but add any kind of heel and it gets a bit tricky. I have no idea how these girls navigate them in those shoes, and when drunk.  That’s the other thing. People over here drink. They do not mess around. It’s like they are afraid that by next weekend all the alcohol will be gone or something. I do believe this is a major factor as to why people think its a good idea to stand in the middle of my street at 2am and start singing.

I’m tired, and I still haven’t eaten anything for dinner (and its 23 o'clock here!), so I’m going to sign off. But rest assured, the wit and wisdom of E-Dawg are back! You can look forward to regular amusing updates, especially since the next three weeks will take me to Brussels, Cyprus and lovely Tijuana!

Cheers all.
Federman out.