Year in Review - Meowloween!

Wow, a year ago today I was off to the airport with my heaps of belongings to start my new life. What a wonderful year it has been. For all of my ranting over here, it really is great. Though I haven't even kept up with all of the updates that I intended to make of the highlights of my year. Well, in any case, the most exciting news as of late - CATS!

Hubby and I just fell in love with the two kitties-in-law last time we visited family over in Poland. And it just so happened to work out best for the family if we adopted the dear kitties. So... ok! Don't have to ask us twice! We've been just dying for cats in our lives anyway. We learned that fearful, paranoid UK doesn't actually allow animals to come on airplanes as passengers/carry-on luggage into the country, they have to be checked as cargo, in with the luggage for the journey. After seeing our share of how the monkey oaf baggage handlers handle luggage, plus paranoia of something malfunctioning or going wrong with that part of the plane, it just seemed sad and not fair to shove dear kitties into dark, cold, lonely isolation, under the plane. So, driving seemed like the best choice. 

It just so happened that we were planning to drive to Germany for a concert in Oberhausen (western Germany), on October 26th, anyway. Because we can. Because it's easy and awesome to just drive on through Europe, country after country. (I'm still overdue to post pictures and stories from our first Euro road trip back in June...). So it seemed like a good time and opportunity to drive on through and get these two darling kitties who on the last visit sold themselves very well on the prospects of being adopted by us.

What does it take to bring kitties from the EU into the UK? It's not as bad as it once was (months of quarantine? aww, poor souls). The kitties simply need to be microchipped, given rabies vaccinations 21 days before entering the UK (already taken care of for us), and get pet passports (which vets can issue when you go in for the microchip/vaccination process). Toss them into your car, get them checked out in France by the animal control crew before you drive through the tunnel, and apparently you're good to go. 

Tomorrow we begin our drive back, stopping overnight, after about 9 hours of driving, in Dortmund, Germany. Then Friday we will see how easy imMEOWgration in fact is. And then begin our new fulfilling life with our expanded feline family! Photos of our new lovelies below.

Coca. I look forward to waking up to this in my face all the time. My little buddy, always following me around, hopping in my lap, sleeping on top of me.

Cola. The "cheeky" one - playful, table-thief, and a sucker for a good chin scratching.

Yes, their names are Coca and Cola. No, we did not choose these names, and yes, they very well may end up renamed once we get to know them better and decide on more appropriate and clever names for them.

Also, Hubby and I, and all the black that we both wear on a regular basis, have resigned ourselves to the fact that life will never be the same and we may as well get used to fighting the good cat hair fight, equipped with sticky rollers, tape, vacuums and what have you.

Overall Damage

Now, what was the overall damage for the "privilege" to drive here? For being granted the ability to do what I've *already been doing* all this time??

Provisional license: £50
License photos: £5
Theory Test: £31
Downloaded test routes: £6
Lessons: £20/hour x 6: £120
Practical Test 1: £62
Instructor's car for test and hour pre-test lesson: £60
Last minute test booking: £30
Practical Test 2: £62
Instructor's car for test 2: £60
--------------------------------------------------------
Grand Total: £486

What a racket. This is actually the first time I've totaled it all. Ouch.

Not counting the extra gas I used spending hours driving around the test center in my own car, or the cost to mail my passport securely in for the license application.

The Test... Take Two...

After failing the first test, as soon as I got in front of a computer I immediately checked for available openings for when I could take the test again. There are six text centers in my general area. And when checking on September 19th, the earliest I could find an opening was one center with an October 30th slot. Otherwise if I wanted to test where I had tested and had been practicing around, there were no openings until mid-November. Seeing as how my US license is no good after October 31, that simply would not do. I took the October 30th booking, thinking I could always look for cancellations, as people reportedly do, and change my appointment to one earlier.

But desperate times call for desperate measures. I found myself looking at the poorly made website of this sketchy seeming service. http://www.shortnoticetests.com/ Pay them £30 and they find a short notice driving test for you at the center of your choice. The testimonials on the website sounded good to me. (Yeah, they very well could be fake, I don't know!) I was naive and desperate, time was running out. I called them to make sure I understood what I needed to do and to see if they sounded legit. A helpful guy with an English accent answered the phone. He asked me what test center I needed, I told him, and he says "Ok, let me see what we have here.... looking at it, I would say that we would be able to find you an appointment within the first week or two of October. It may take up to 7 working days, so while you're sitting at home, relaxing, reading the paper, drinking some tea, we'll be working for you, to get you a test date set up." Fine, I'll buy it. I went back to the website, filled out my information, submitted payment info, got confirmation of the transaction on Paypal, but no confirmation that this service was actually in the process of doing anything for me. And I waited. And two business days later, sure enough I got an email like one gets from the DVLA when you book or change a driving test, confirming my new driving test date of October 3rd, at the test center I had wanted. I still have no idea how these magical people do it. Is it fair? Probably not. Seems as shady as ticket scalpers. But whatever, I will certainly take it. I was already feeling much better, knowing I had a chance, knowing I could even probably have one more chance after this, using the service again if need be before October 31. I was still immensely stressed, but feeling slightly better.

October 3rd arrived. I was just as stressed and freaked out this time around as I was the previous time. Sure, I knew what to expect, but then again, what if my new examiner was even stricter, what if they criticize me for things the first guy didn't. It all still seemed so matter of opinion. And by this time it had been two weeks with no lessons to get used to my instructor's car again. So I had a last minute lesson with him in the hour before the test. Reverse into a parking space? Couldn't quite get it to a confident level. Parallel parking? Ok, I guess. The main thing I had to keep in mind, though, was simply *pay the heck attention*!!

At least this time the test was at noon, I got a good night's sleep before hand, and didn't overdo it on the coffee. I wait anxiously with my instructor in the waiting room, along with two or three other instructor+student driving pairs. And the examiners are released. They come into the waiting room, identify their assigned victims. This time they were wearing high visibility vests. Oh, for Pete's sake. (The country's love affair with "high viz vests" being another thing I thought Dear Hubby was simply mocking until I moved here and saw how true it was. Even *dogs* here wear high viz vests.) A small, older woman with short gray hair does her best at trying to pronounce my last name and looks around. I wave, and my instructor nervously says to her "Haha, yeah, close enough". I sign the form, and out the door we go. She seems ok, I guess. As we're walking to the car she asks me about my unusual name, I explain the ethnic origins. Already more chitchat than with the previous examiner. She asks me my two "show me/tell me" questions, seems friendly and reasonably warm enough. Ok, this might work out. She tells me we'll do the maneuver first, get that out of the way. Which is reversing into a parking space in the parking lot at the center. I manage to do it ok. Whew, part one down. We drive off, she tells me to take a left at the end of the street. I signal right (ok, so sometimes I *still* get my right and left confused... minor detail... well maybe more of a major detail... especially for things like a driving test!). She tells me "I said take a left". Right. Stomach gets butterfly-y and I correct myself, signaling left.

We drive some more, and we're making some little chit-chat. I don't even know how we got to that point, but next thing I know, she's saying, "I love America! I've been to all of the states except for Maine and Texas!". I am very pleased to hear this, thinking 'Yess! She's on my side! I might stand a chance with this one!'. She mentions being especially fond of New York. And I take this and just run with it, building the rapport, bonding over how much we both love NYC, bonding over our mutual love of travel, in general, sharing some NYC touristy tips with her, asking her all about her travels. Now I'm not always good at smalltalk and acting interested, but I knew my life pretty much depended on it! Independent driving segment (totally ok this time), some more chitchat, and next thing I know we're back at the test center. She tells me to park and turn off the engine, which I do. She scribbles some stuff on her scoresheet. I both want to look and don't want to look. "Congratulations, you've passed". I am filled with a HUGE flood of relief, my life can go back to normal! All of these other things I've been wanting to do and look forward to and plan, I can now, with a clear conscience. I no longer have to worry about when I will pass my UK driving test, or whether my car will turn into a pumpkin after Halloween. Kitty Mobile can stay on the road!!! I excitedly thank her, and she reviews with me the two minor mistakes I made (failure to look in some direction at some junction, and not letting the car coming towards me go first on one of those lousy "two way streets" with parked cars everywhere, making people take turns in the one usable car width) and gives me some silly little booklet that passers get, I guess, mainly geared for teens, about "your first car", "how to get insurance", "more safe driving tips", etc. She takes my provisional license and says she will fill out and submit the form for me to get my real UK driving license. She hands me my pass certificate, saying that it now grants me rights to drive independently (you know, like I have been all along ;P). We wish eachother well on our travels, I tell her I hope her trip to NYC works out next year (she was concerned with all of the political stuff going on. I reassured her about it, though). My instructor, who was there waiting in the parking lot congratulates me. I let him take over the driving, say farewell to my nice friendly like-minded America loving examiner and drive back home with my instructor. GO TEAM USA!

My instructor then asks me "So how was it? How was she?". I tell him about how nice she seemed, how we chitchatted, how she was pro-America, which put me at ease. We talked about travel, NYC. I tell him it was a fine old time! He then tells me, "Wow, when I saw that you got her, I was worried for you! That's the headmaster of all of the examiners at this center. She's known to be strict and stern and most of my students have complained about her or been intimidated by her! You must've caught her on a good day. I tried joking around with her when she was saying your name, I think I got a smile out of her. But she's usually not like that. I don't always agree with her ways. And she can be quick to use the brake on her side when she thinks a driver isn't braking in time [examiner braking for you = you fail the test]." He was very surprised but happy for me when he heard about my experience with her.

Well, you just never know, do you?

I'm just glad I can go back and laugh at it all now. That challenge over! Living here seriously is like a series of challenges to overcome and problems to solve.

The Test

The test was upon us. Well, upon me. It was either pass this one, or spend my days desperately refreshing the DVLA test booking page, hoping someone cancels and opens up a spot I find and can book. Because by September 19, the odds of finding another test before Halloween were not very good. My instructor said that another student of his paid some service to find a booking for him, but it sounded kind of shady. Plus it seemed like too much coordination, with them contacting you, you contacting the instructor to make sure he's free, you giving random people personal details... Worst, worst case scenario I would simply have to make the long journey to work after October 31 by train then bus. Which isn't impossible, I did know someone who did it. But it sounded like a huge inconvenience, the busses were flaky and unreliable as busses generally are, she'd always be concerned about leaving work at the right time to catch the bus, and furthermore, it's becoming icky, dark, cold, wet season. (Those whole two weeks of cute warm-ish weather that the Brits think is "summer" have long gone...)

I woke up painfully early for my 7:30 am driving practice with my instructor before my 8:30 am test. After having a night full of waking up, head racing with anxiety ridden thoughts, and not being able to go back to sleep for a while after. I was all nervy and twitchy, there was no denying it. Or was it the too big scoop of instant coffee I made for myself, that I don't usually make, but didn't feel like making real coffee like I do at work. I had done these superstitious rituals, wore superstitious "lucky" things, even asked my dear departed Dad to help me out with this (I failed twice in the US before I spent a bunch of time driving with him and he took me for my test and I passed). I was sure welcome to divine intervention.

My instructor and I drove around, I got the reverse park and parallel park down to a level that I was satisfied enough with. We peeked under the hood of the car once more to review things. See, on the test here, they ask two "show me/tell me" questions - asking you things like how to check oil, coolant, how to switch on your high beams, or as they say here "change from dipped to main headlights"... so much different terminology. My instructor laughed when I used the phrase "rear defogger" - he hadn't really heard that before, here it's "demister". And "passing" is "overtaking" (which almost kind of goes along with ways of thinking over here. "Passing" sounds like just a natural, necessary thing to do, as it is regarded in the US. "Overtaking" almost sounds more mean and aggressive and negative.). Also along such silly lines, speed bumps and other bizarre inconvenient ways they mess up the road to make you slow down are simply called "traffic calming measures". How gentle. How wimpy.

So we go to the test center, wait, anxious, anxious, anxious. The examiners all come out together and each go to their assigned victim in the waiting room. I got some guy whose personality I couldn't really get much of a sense of. But he kind of mumbled. I had to ask him a couple times to repeat himself. Fortunately it wasn't at any point critical to driving. He just asked me maybe a couple small talk questions during the exam.The exam started off kind of awkwardly as I ended up on the same test route as another driver in front of me, going for their exam. And they were pretty awkward at it. So being stuck behind them for a good stretch of time made me drive less naturally and comfortably. I eventually managed to pass, I mean "overtake", them after we'd both pulled over and I was informed that I was going to begin my "independent driving" portion of the exam.

Now this part I hadn't been too worried about. The examiner will either tell you to follow signs for this town or that landmark and you just drive along, without the examiner telling you exactly which turns to take. Or they tell you a set of directions, showing you a diagram of it, and expect you to be a human GPS ("SatNav") and follow the directions. Fortunately, they can't fail you for taking a wrong turn, so long as you still execute your journey in a safe and sensible manner. The examiner shows me a diagram of a thick black line going straight, then to the right, then a quarter-circle path, indicating a roundabout that I should take the first left out of, and then another line straight up from that, with three streets coming off of the left. The examiner tells me, "Go to the end of this street, take a right, take your first left at the roundabout, and then take your third left." Ok, I thought, simple enough. I can do that. I am told, "Move off when you are ready". I do the move off ritual of putting the car in drive, check my left mirror, check my center mirror, check my right mirror, check over my right shoulder, signal, release the parking brake, and move off. I drive off, calmly thinking "Right at the end of the street, yup...", and then in front of me I see this:

What. the. heck. is. that. ??

 This is what the junction looks like on Google maps (I was coming towards it from point A):

At first, I asked the examiner if I'm supposed to turn right at that "cross piece of the A shaped roads" and he told me "No, at the end". Ok... um... make sense of this fast, make sense of this fast. I got to the "top of the A", beared left, and then moved my car over to the right hand side of that piece of road, put on my right blinker, look down the street, and see all cars coming towards me. Ohhhh.... Ooops... I got flustered, there were other cars on the left of me at this point, trying to sneak by awkward me, blocking up the road. I eventually figured out that I was supposed to go up the left hand side of the U-shaped road segment, got to the very very end of the mess of roads, and made my right turn.

I continued on, having no idea how I was doing. I'd done ok with the "Emergency stop" (The examiner takes you to an empty road and has you drive and when he says stop, you're supposed to slam on the brakes without skidding or setting off the thudding antilock braking system. Then parking brake, put car in neutral, and when you're given the go-ahead, put your car in drive, check your left, center, and right mirror, parking brake down, and move off.), but I did do some of the motions out of sequence for some of the pull over/move off procedures. It was so nerve racking having the examiner sitting there and hearing and seeing him make little scratchings on his scoring sheet. They only mark stuff down that you've done wrong. If you get more than 15 "minor faults" or one "major fault" then you fail. But unfortunately what constitutes a fault is not very quantifiable and seems subject to opinion.

We drove back to the test center, he had me perform the "reverse into a parking spot" maneuver in the parking lot there, which went reasonably ok. And then I was told to turn off the car. And the test was done. He scribbles away on his score sheet, I really have zero idea what to expect, and he tells me "I'm sorry, but you did not pass." My stomach drops. It was because of the junction. The stupid, evil, horribly constructed junction. My fault was "failure to observe traffic signs/signals". And ok, I did have one other little incident where three lanes suddenly merge into two, one of which was blocked by a bus, and I didn't see the car behind me in the lane I was merging into, nor did I signal. "Failure to check mirrors", Major Fault 2. He tells me "Well, I wish you luck in your future endeavors. Goodbye.". Yeah. Gee. Thanks. My instructor then got in the car, drove me back home, and I am just fuming and stressing. Really not wanting to take public transit to work. And time was running out.

Lesson Time!

So, I had called around to a few different driving schools, getting quotes, finding out availabilities. It's not like in the States where, as I recall, you have to have a certain number of hours of classroom and road training for drivers ed before you can get your license. Here lessons seem more optional. But you're sure gonna need them! A driving school set me up with their automatic guy, and learning time began. By this time, I had already booked my road test at one of the few test centers in the area for September 20th. Yet again, time slots were scarce, and this was one of the earliest I could find. Otherwise I was looking at early into October. Yikes! My license turns into a pumpkin by Halloween, that's cutting it close. And another thing about "convenience" here. In the unlikely event that something IS actually "convenient" - you're penalized for it. The driving test normally costs £62. Unless you want to take it at a time that would be convenient for most normal, working people, on nights or weekends. Then the driving test costs £75. Well, "lucky" for me, I couldn't even find a night or weekend test any time soon, so no worries there. My test was scheduled for 3pm, so only having to work until 1pm on a Friday this worked out well, and I wouldn't even have to take time off from work.

My instructor was a nice fellow in a much abused but decent car (using his own personal car for all of his lessons... poor guy...). I was just grateful that it was responsive and functional enough. I rented a car for work once here, some *diesel* thing that sounded like a tractor and made me fear for my life every time I entered a roundabout because it just wouldn't accelerate. I don't get the diesel thing here. So I was afraid of having lessons in similar, but fortunately not. My instructor also convinced me not to take the test on my own, with my own car, but to use his and have him accompany me. I'd heard mixed reviews both ways, but I took his advice, already starting to question myself and if I really wanted to show up for my driving test in my Hello Kitty mobile. (Not that I'm not otherwise immensely proud and thrilled with it!).

So the lessons go, week after week, the price was fair, I didn't mind. I wanted as much help as I could get, starting to get a grasp on just how horrendous this UK driving test is. Reading all sorts of horror stories online. Looking at the statistics. The average passing rate in for the driving test in the UK is somewhere around 45%. Where I tested, it was 34% for females. I could drive. That was a simple fact. But the lessons weren't so much to learn how to drive, but to learn how to pass the test. As part of the test you have to do one of four maneuvers, either parallel park, reverse into a parking space, reverse around a corner, or three point turn. My biggest problem was the parallel parking. Sure, of course I've wiggled my way into many an impossible parking spot in Boston, NYC. Sometimes successful, sometimes with several sad, awkward passes back and forth, but sure, technically I can parallel park. But nope, this is all about the "performance". Master the right choreography. Hit the curb and fail. The instructor asked to see my parallel parking skills, so I showed him. Not particularly elegantly, but I got right behind the car he asked me to park behind. And then he informs me I'm too close to the car. What? I put the car back in the original position and then he leads me through how I "should" park. Reverse... a gradual angle.... straighten... handbrake, put the car in park. (Another thing that fully messed with my head. The parking brake is always the first thing I release when going or the last thing I engage when stopping. But here you're supposed to shift into park or reverse first, look all around, and *then* release the parking brake just before you take off. And when you stop, it's the first thing you engage. Weird.). So the car was positioned in the result of a test-standard successful parallel park. Which was about one car length behind the car in front of me, and no car behind me. Where would I ever use that!?!? That's not "parallel parking"! If I encountered this on the street and needed to park, I would simply pull up straight, behind the car in front of me! I'm spending all this time and anxiety learning this, why? Again, no logic here. But I learned that choreographed routine, complete with mirror checks and all. Learned how to reverse into a parking space - and it would be easier if there were cars on either side, it would give you a better target, but no, you have to reverse down a row of empty parking spaces, perpendicular to your car, and swing cleanly and straightly into one. Why?? What's wrong with driving straight into a parking space!?

And mirrors. Mirrors mirrors mirrors mirrors, it's ALL about the mirrors. That's what everyone had told me, and that's what seems true. You need to be ON your mirrors, OCD with them, checking all the time, as if someone's following you. Before you slow down - check mirror, before you speed up - check mirror, before you go any which way - check your mirror, before you signal - check your mirror. This I had a hard time with. So ok, sorry I just rear ended you/ran into your kid, I was too busy checking my mirror to make sure there were no cars too close and it was safe to brake before I was able to actually brake. After several lessons, I eventually was broken into the habit. Even the instructor, himself, had no good reason why I needed to take the test and Canadians didn't. "We just don't like Americans?", he offered up. (Joking, of course). And even the instructor himself said "Yes, many of these rules are dumb. Yes, many of these things you don't really do and will never use again. But it's just simply what you have to do for the test, I'm afraid.". He also said "Clearly you can drive, you do ok here, you've been driving to work all this time, but it's all about putting on a show for the examiners." Wouldn't it be more logical and fair and accurate if the instructor was simply to assess that you were fit for driving? All this time spent with them, seeing your real, every day, average driving, VS this one 40 minute performance that you have to execute once, impeccably.

My instructor also advised me to switch my test to a different center, closer to my house, where we could practice in the area more easily. As the test drew closer, I would spend some time driving around that area after work from time to time. I even went so far as to purchase test routes online that I could download for my Garmin. Unfortunately they never worked. I contacted the company and finally got a minimally helpful customer service response of telling me to look at the instructions on the Garmin website to perform what I already had, to try to load the routes onto my Garmin. I still drove around the area, and by test time, I figured I was as ready as I was ever going to be. I also felt like it was partly up to luck and the mood of the examiner and if I looked in the mirror 9 instead of 10 times, I could fail.

And my instructor did kind of raise my fears a little by asking me "What happens if you fail? Have you thought about what you will do?", pointing out that my US license was to become invalid awfully soon, and pointing out how close I cut it. I explained to him that I was just following the rules, waiting until 6 months before I got my provisional license here. He asks me "Huh? Is that some new rule?". I explain to him that you have to wait 6 months after moving here before you can apply for a provisional license. We were both a bit confused and unsure of which of us knew what they were talking about. I later investigated it online, on my expat message boards, other sources. And lo and behold it IS some vague, wishy washy suggestion that you wait the 6 months, and I am certain somewhere that it states you have to live in the UK for 180 days of the year, and when you fill out the application online it does ask when you moved to the UK. But darn it, I then see other expats saying that they applied and got their provisional license "straight away", by just going and applying on the assumption that yes, they do *plan* to live here for 180 days or more and that is good enough. And had I only known that, I wouldn't have ended up taking the test weeks from my US license being due to expire. But hindsight, what can you do? And lousy vague UK wishy-washy rules. Like when I asked the UK Border Guards at the airport which immigration line I should go in and was told "Eh, it depends, it's a matter of opinion". Gee, so would they be so lackadaisical about when my license expires and when I actually immigrated here? ;)

And to answer one question that even I had - yes, I have many passport stamps into the country after all my travels, how would they know which is which and which stamp I officially "settled" here on? Answer: they stamp the first "settling" stamp directly over your visa that is stuck in your passport. Doh.

The Theory Exam

Why can't it be as easy as in the States, why? One center, sure possibly long and obnoxious queues, but once you're there, boom, done, application, picture, learner's permit. Then go back, eye test, theory test, road test, done. All in one fell swoop. Nope. They like waiting here. They like inconveniencing people. And they especially like "apologising for the inconvenience".

Here driving culture is a bit different, too. Driving is more for the rich and privileged, it seems. It's quite common for people to not have licenses. Not like in the States where driving, guns, and TV are pretty much your rights as a citizen, and every kid upon turning 16 suddenly has a license.

So, step two - the written exam. And no sir, it is not a simple handful of common sense questions that are covered in the pamphlet you can get at the DMV. It's points upon points upon points of minute facts and things that you wouldn't even expect. And while all of these fussy points are published to the public on the DVLA website, there is no free hand-out pamphlet. So it is common and a wise idea to purchase an official DVLA "rules of the road" book, that lists driving rules and the questions that you could possibly get on the exam. They even make software that you can buy that trains you for the reaction test. Part of the theory exam is sitting in front of the computer watching video footage of driving behind the wheel and clicking the mouse when you see hazards. The written test, itself, is 50 questions long, of which you have to get 43 correct to pass. Sounded rough. Especially having had a minorly traumatic time taking the GRE's years ago, being well unprepared for it. So I bought the book, I went through the whole tedious thing, even though they repeated questions in different sections. How efficiently written. Some questions and scenarios just blew my mind, such as:

 What kind of backwards old-school world have I stepped into!? I was complaining to my sister about it, and she joked "When approaching a castle whose drawbridge is one lane, does the car coming from or going to the castle yield?". She was being light and funny about it. And then I sent her this picture from my English travels:

 HA! Been there, done that, it's not just a joke. And clearly the large black arrow indicates that the car coming towards you would have the right of way.

So, once I felt at least partially studied enough, I started looking into booking the Theory Test. And of course since this country loves to queue and be inconvenient, it was slim pickins' for dates and times to actually take the test. I settled on August 12, stupidly early at 8am, because it was all that was available. And to make things even more difficult and complicated, you're not allowed to book your road test until you have passed your theory test. So I was surely relieved when I did pass, no problem, just one question wrong. That part accomplished. After all this learning of how you "should" drive, everybody else has all the rights, you have no rights, always yield to people and horses and bicycles and insects, I came to the conclusion that this country is full of wimps. Fine by me, I'm happy to cut them! Which they just about always let you. Unless it's a BMW. BMWs are jerks. Universal, international truth.

In the meantime, I had also been looking into driving lessons, since I already knew that there would be habits that I as an American would have to be broken of if I wanted to pass the UK driving exam. My husband would say, "Oh, yeah, get ready to pull the handbrake at every stoplight. They could fail you if you don't!" I laughed and thought that it was just another sarcastic jab of his at this country (can't say he didn't warn me... he totally did.) But no, that really is a thing. You really are expected to use the parking brake if you're at an extended stop - at a stoplight, waiting for pedestrians to cross, in a queue of traffic. At first I thought maybe it's more aimed towards all of the people who drive standard (it's rare to drive automatics here. But they suggest it as a solution to make driving easier for the elderly or disabled. So backwards they are here...) but no, various reasons behind it include "So that you can take your foot off the brake and not dazzle the drivers behind you with your brake lights" and "In case you're at a junction and the person behind you bumps into you - to prevent you from lurching out into traffic". Uh-huh. Ok. And hand-over-hand turning. I was warned that that was a big no-no here.

So, I managed to find myself the rare automatic car driving instructor. Here, if you get a license for an automatic, you are only allowed to drive an automatic and would have to retest if you want to drive standard. My instructor warned me of this, making sure I wouldn't want to drive standard. No thank you. Why don't you just rip out the bottom of the car and let me drive with my feet, all Fred Flintstone style. We have advanced technology these days, I will choose to use it. Especially in this ridiculous traffic infested country.

The long and grueling journey to a UK driver's license.

So, I've been wanting to update this more. Really, I have. But there has been one thing that has been plaguing me, consuming me, filling me with anxiety - the UK driving test. "Now wait," you say, "but you HAVE been driving around in the UK all this time. What ever do you speak of?" Welllll, this country being no friend to logic, gets to say, "Hey, we know you've been driving all this time, commuting to work, other excursions, totaling about 200 miles per week, on average. Sure, come here, fresh off the plane, and hop in the car, no problem! Have a go at it! Fumble about in the wrong-side streets, have several near-misses as you're getting used to how all these roundabouts work and what is proper lane discipline in them, drive down these awkward, tiny, so-called two way streets where there's so little space left on the road after all these parked cars are lined up that you'll just have to take turns with oncoming traffic for who gets to pass. But wait, what? You've been living here and driving here for a year now? Oh, no no, we can't have this. You are no longer roadworthy, no longer fit to drive on these remarkably safe British roadways. You are no longer allowed to drive on your US license once the calendar on your immigration date makes it's first complete cycle."

Ok, fine, UK - EU, you've all got this happy buddy-buddy thing going on, so coming from the EU you can simply exchange your license for a UK one. I get that. Open door policy on working, living, and driving. Fair enough. But then I learned that Canadians can also simply exchange their Canadian driving license for a UK one. What!? How is that fair? How is driving in Canada any different than in the US?

Fine, UK, you win, I'll play your game. What choice do I have? Well actually I did seriously consider "Well, how will they really know when I immigrated? How will they line up all the facts? There are barely even cops on the road pulling people over, they just do everything passive-aggressively with cameras and nice little notes/tickets being sent to your home after the fact. It would be unlikely I'd be actually caught..." It's not that I don't generally play by the rules, but when the rules are so backwards and illogical and hypocritical then "meh", little regard. But then the fear that I would be in an accident and the other party would claim whiplash (which is another national pastime here) and my insurance would be invalidated by my invalid license was too great. So, I waited until after 6 months from when I immigrated here, as I had heard you had to do before applying for a provisional license (UK's version of a learner's permit). Started the process early in June, giving me plenty of time before October 31, when my US license became null and void in the UK. And yes, no mercy here, I had to start all the way at the beginning - provisional license, then take the the written (theory) test, then take the road (practical) test. No credit or steps skipped for, you know, already being able to drive here. I fill in the form online, state that I have lived here for 180 days, pay my money (and yes, I will get to the total cost of the racket that is driving here) and wait patiently for further instruction. Weeks later I got a letter in the mail stating that I needed to provide more information, fill out the paper I was sent confirming my details (Hello Your Name at Your Address where we mailed this form to. Do you live at Your Address? Um... yes...), send in two regulation size photographs (no there is no convenient center to go and do all of this, it is all by mail and you have to supply your own photos), and oh, send us your passport so we can verify you are you, and plan to not have it for a month. What!? I have to surrender my passport? I desperately sought any other way to do this in person, but unfortunately there was none. The Brits have it easier, as they have some sort of digital passport, so they can simply enter their digital UK passport number and all the info is right there. But non citizens have to mail in their passport. Well... I had plans in Germany towards the end of June, so this simply will not do. I had to call the DVLA (the UK's registry of motor vehicles and licensing) and ask that my application be extended. And then there wasn't much else I could do until I returned from Germany. So, by early July, as soon as I returned, I mailed off the application, mailed off my photos, and reluctantly mailed off my passport. Got my passport back a couple weeks later, and my provisional license shortly after. Ok, first part sorted. Mid-June now.  

Overdue Barcelona Photos

So, yeah, we went to Barcelona back during Easter weekend. Yeah, photos 1/4 a year overdue. Well, here goes.

Easter Parade

Chocolate Museum! (One of many I've been to in the world!)

Our nifty spacey hotel

random street chicken sign!

Umm...?

In case of fire, hitting and removing the plastic!

You know, where Ferrets go and have lunch during their workday.

Neck Plates!

Why are the eggs here so angry?

Somehow I don't quite think that's correct.

Haikus - UK updates

Well, clearly I can't seem to keep this updated, so instead of real posts, I'm going to use haikus and photos.

Random updates from May through now:

Birmingham is lame

Nice day, picnic in the park...

Hello Kitty theft!!! 

:(

 Hubby is so great

Kitties car not once, but twice

Stuck for good, this time!

Day trip, off to Wales!

 What's Welsh Rarebit? Sounds dodgy.

Oh! Cheese on toast? Yum!

 Need UK license

Studying rules of the road

 Are you kidding me!?

Canal side pizza

Too cool hipster restaurant

 London is so fun

 Walk from pizza place

 Oh look, a garden party!

London is so fun

Muchly Overdue

Ok, ok, I've been slacking. Well, while some people seem to feel the need to pose everything to the internets, pictures of their cats (well, ok, I DO like the cat pictures), what they've had for breakfast, etc, etc, I've been just too busy to post of all my adventures. And wow, apparently writing while on the train, because all that is between London and Birmingham is sheep and no cell phone reception, is not a good solution.
Well, here are my top excuses (adventures) for why I have not been updating


1. Visited Barcelona over Easter weekend
2. Went back to the states briefly in April
3. Hosted pairs of German friends in February and April
4. Went to Leipzig, Germany, in May for a lovely music festival with friends from all corners of the world
5. Hanging out with/making more friends in Birmingham
6. Day trip to Wales - that's where all the ice cream in the country is hiding!
7. Going to Germany again next weekend - this time it'll be a road trip! Stopping off in Belgium along the way, somewhere, just because we can. And I've been told they have some of the best chocolate in the world.

More to come! I owe pictures. I owe lots of stuff. And boy oh boy is there more to rant about. Like cockamaime driving rules, my quest to get my UK license, total lack of summer, the tragic de-Kittying and triumphant re-Kittying of my car. Will try to post more regularly. Really, really.

Happy Pi Day!

That is all.

Tomato, tomato...

Yeah, the whole "You say tomato, I say tomato" thing doesn't work so well when it's actually written out. But yes, as I knew, and as everybody had told me, language here is a bit different. I was pretty well familiar with a lot of the nuances of word differences and different expressions here, but there are still new ones to learn, as well as other things that continue to amuse/baffle me.

The migrating "H"
It is amusing to work in a place where human resources, aka "HR", is most often called "haech arr". Here is one case where H is all "Here I am, know me, respect me, fully appreciate my existence in this phrase". Another such occurrence would be in "schedule", often heard as "shed-yule". And then the random, surprise appearance of "H" in "assume". I have heard many pronounce it as "a-shume". Ok. But to maintain the equilibrium of it all, H just as often disappears from things. Such as the cliche " 'ello!", " 'ave a go at it", and in a more work-related context "The component was small so it would overeat".

In technical terms
It is also amusing to work in a place where a common material used is a-lu-MIN-i-um. Not too long ago, I didn't think such a word or material existed. I thought it was just kind of a goof-off phrase, like "nu-cu-lar". But no, I guess it is equally legitimate to say a-lu-MIN-i-um as it is to say a-LU-mi-num. I haven't actually had need to say it out loud, and I'm not really sure what will come out of my own mouth in this environment when I do.
Another minor confusion that came up was "mil". I don't come from the world of millimeters. I know inches, hundredths of an inch, thousandths of an inch. So when I was working on a component and somebody told me "Oh, just take half a mil off the thickness", I kind of didn't even know what to make of it at first. If the component was actually in millimeters, it would have made more sense. But it was in inches. So I wasn't sure why there was the casual back and forth of  units, and everyone having an understanding of what a "mil" is. Confusion.

Say what?
Another phrase here that took me a while to get used to is "Are you all right?". What it *actually* means is their version of "How are you?" (and sometimes even said in equally "I don't really care, I just have to say that out of habit" ways, such as by bored, spiritless store clerks, etc). I was initially exposed to it during my first trip here in 2003. I originally thought it was simply because I was wandering around a bunch of stores (as in Camden Town) in giddy awe of it all, and it genuinely may have looked like there was something *not* all right with me. But I later had it explained to me that it was simply their greeting. I'm still trying to get used to responding to it, now, on a regular basis. If someone asks me "Are you all right?" my natural inclination is to respond with a "Yup...". I know that's not really the idea, though. And I did notice that during a telecon with others in the US, a colleague here used the "Hi, are you all right?" greeting to them, and there was this awkward uncertain pause followed by an "Um... yup....". Ok, so it's not just me.
On my first day of work when it was explained to me the system of clocking in and out, whenever we enter and leave the building, I was trying to figure out if people actually go out for lunchtime. I was told a somewhat confusing response that seemed to indicate that people in general simply don't leave the facility during the day and the half hour of lunch time is automatically deducted out of our work hours. But if you go out for supper, you clock out and then clock back in when you get back. I didn't totally understand but didn't really bother to clarify it at the time, as there was and still is a few confusing things about how time charging here works. All I knew was that it didn't really make too much sense why people would bother to go out for supper and come back to work. Why not just work and leave and have supper after? And besides, it seems rare that people are actually around and still working at supper time (hooray to that). I put it out of my mind. Until recently when somebody different told me "Oh, so and so is supposed to email you with that information, but if you don't hear from him by suppertime, I'd just send him a reminder if I were you". "suppertime"?! Why not "by the end of the day"?.... It then started to occur to me that here "supper" kind of seems to mean "lunch" as we know it in the US. Weird. In any case, at least they have this mid-day-whatever-you-call-it meal from 12:30-1:00pm. Which makes perfect sense to me! I never understood the 11:30 am "lunch" thing. If you ask me, food eaten at 11:30 am is still "breakfast" to me. On the weekend, I'm often lucky if I'm awake and have eaten *anything* by 11:30 am!

Other miscellaneous words
"Chuffed" - To feel "chuffed" is to feel pleased or content with oneself. Which seems kind of odd to me. It reminds me of "miffed". Which is kind of the opposite of "chuffed".

"Peckish" - Hungry. I think this is a great and cute word. It makes complete sense.

"Moreish" - Another unusual but good word. I was told at work that my chocolate coconut macaroons were "moreish", as in it makes a person want more of them. I hope to always make "moreish" goodies.

"Sledging" - Sledding. This doesn't seem to make as much sense to me. "Sledging" makes me think of hammers, violence, and destruction. Not frolicking in a winter wonderland, sliding down hills.

I fixed the problem! ... and other photographic life updates

You know that pesky scalding-freezing dual tap problem I was complaining about? Well, I'd heard about a quick fix for it online and immediately had to implement it. Yeah, it's pretty sad. But hey, it works! For all of the "form over function" in my life, once in a while I have to surrender and be a good old, cheap, "I don't care, it works now" engineer.

I made some classic Rice Krispie Treats over here. Marshmallows here are most often found in bags of pink and white, it seems. It did make me laugh how the bag touts how devilish and wicked and tempting the marshmallows are. Really? That's "indulgent" to you? Marshmallows hardly have any calories or fat compared to... many other truly indulgent and wicked desserts. If marshmallows are your exciting culinary naughty treat then yeah, you're just missing out on life. And speaking of zapping the fun out of things, I wanted to add sprinkles to make the Treats more exciting. But I was hard pressed to find sprinkles or decorations that came in colors any American or 5 year old child would find fun. I found some sprinkles, but they all had watered down, wishy washy coloUrs. And then I was reminded of the fact that over here they have much more of an aversion to the artificial coloUr thing than in the States. (I had also learned more about that with my local friends with whom I ate pancakes last week for Pancake Tuesday. Also, we had a round of "Really!? _[food product]_ costs $_[ridiculous amount]_ where you're from!? Insane!" And I shared more of the happiness of Extra Dessert Delights gum with them. The Apple Pie gum never ceases to amaze folks here.

You call that snow? Not long after folks back home got a nice dose of Real Snow to remind them of what being a New Englander is all about, here in Old England they got... this. And this was me being too cheap to spend the £5 on a taxi back to my flat from the train station. (Again, engineer mentality>princess mentality). So, I had to deal with the snow getting plowed along and piling up in front of my rolling suitcase as I'm trying to drag it down the sidewalk. Drag drag drag, tug, heave! Drag drag drag, tug, heave!

CHICKENS! Street Chickens! What great grafitti! Found in East London while wandering around with the Hubby and a couple of friends visiting from Germany last weekend.

Things I Miss

• Friendly's. I grew up near the home of Friendly's ice cream. It was a way of life! "Where ice cream makes the meal" - yeah, for some of us, literally! Sure, the ice cream quality and scoop sizes got smaller through time. (You're hard pressed to find a respectable number of chunks of cookie dough in their cookie dough ice cream. Their cookies and cream? A joke. Graced with maybe a dusting of chocolate cookie crumbs, if you're lucky... And I've seen on their receipts that a "scoop" of ice cream is 2oz. 2 oz!? a "scoop" should be at least a "serving size" of ice cream, and a "serving size" of ice cream is definitely 1/2C, which is 4 fluid ounces). And I remember when the Brownie Sundae crossed the $5 threshold... changing times... But still. A restaurant based on ice cream. I'd always meet up with friends there. And they have really great pickles. And I had grown completely immune to all the weird looks I'd get (as whatever ice cream companion I was with would knowingly chuckle) when I would order ice cream and pickles. They're the ones who do both well and have it all on hand for me at one place at one time. Don't be looking at me all suspecting and bemused when I request ice cream and pickles. It's just what I do. And on that note...
• Pickles! Pickles from Friendly's, or from wherever else would be serving sandwiches and have the perfect, beautiful, crisp, light green dill pickle spear. Or Claussen refrigerated pickles. One of my non-sweet indulgences that I'd often have on hand at home. Not to mention the lovely pickles in high school, and the Pickle Cult I helped to form. Haven't encountered notable pickles over here that I can find on a regular basis. Haven't really looked much, but I don't have high hopes in this place of depressing produce and slimy foods.
• A wide variety of ice cream, especially Ben and Jerry's. Yes, back on the ice cream. Well, I've often regularly spent on average maybe $20 a week on ice cream. There aren't many ice cream for ice cream sake places around here. Though there is this ice cream and pancake place here (pancakes to them here are almost more of a dessert. Which kind of both makes sense and is really weird.) in town that I have yet to check out. And I know I've spotted a Baskin Robbins in London, somewhere we drive past often, though I don't exactly remember where. But the selection of Ben and Jerry's flavoUrs here is kind of disappointing (though I should be grateful they have Ben and Jerry's at all!). There is this yummy amaretto with little amaretti cookies ice cream here by Carte D'Or, who I still suspect might be some soft frozen dairy dessert pseudo-ice cream product, though the package does say "ice cream". But I still have yet to acquaint myself with ice cream regulations here as well as I knew them for ice cream in the US, so who knows what they can legally consider "ice cream" here. The one saving grace in the UK ice cream world is Chin Chin Labs in Camden Town in London. An amazing liquid nitrogen ice cream parlour. A lucky few of you may have even heard my rants on liquid nitrogen ice cream and scientifically why it's tastier than regular old ice cream. And on that note, I should really go visit them again.
• Luna Bars and Zone Bars. Regular breakfast staples of mine back home. Nothing comparable here, really. Except for Slim Fast bars. But those are pretty gross. 
• Marshmallow Peeps and Russell Stover eggs. Yes, I know both candies come in "other holidays than Easter" forms, these days. Pumpkins, ghosts, Christmas trees, hearts, etc. But still. For some reason, nothing beats Easter candy in the US. (Plus the Russell Stover heart shaped box of chocolates for Valentines Day...) I don't even eat candy all too much. But come Easter time I stockpile the Marshmallow Peeps (*only* the yellow ones. Because, you know, it's just more natural and chickeny. And Peeps, specifically Peeps. Not the Bunnies.) and Russell Stover eggs. Especially the raspberry whip eggs, which I've managed to even recreate in my kitchen, but still, it's not the same. Easter candy has been another thing that I've tracked as a measure of society and the economy. Peeps just get more and more expensive, was a pack of 3 trays for $1, now maybe a pack of 2 trays for $1? Or if you find a 3-pack, it's well over $1. And Russell Stover eggs seem to get smaller and smaller, despite typically being 2/$1 at peak Easter candy season. And yes, ignoring the obvious, I *am* in the land of Cadbury Creme Eggs (and I still *must* visit Cadbury world, right in town here. I'm kind of ashamed I haven't yet), and for that I am grateful. But, see, I kind of OD'd on the Cadbury Creme Eggs years ago and got to the point where I'd buy them out of impulsive habit faster than I could consume them. Not to mention I have this crazy ritual of eating them with the utmost respect where it can take a half hour just to eat one. That all started my first time in London, when I ate a Cadbury creme egg every day for just about the whole seven weeks I stayed here. (I... think... I finally parted ways with my Cadbury Creme Egg wrapper chain when I sorted through stuff in moving over here...) There *is* also the wonderful Cadbury Creme Egg McFlurry at McDonalds here around Easter time. So painfully disgusting and bad for you sounding, but it is the one thing that McDonalds has ever produced that made me alert and excited and take notice of where there might be a McDonalds in the area. 
• Brown sugar cinnamon Pop Tarts. Silly, stupid, worthless indulgences, they are. But something about it just tastes so right, and it's certainly a unique product. I see Pop Tarts here, but the prices are just ridiculous. Same with the novelty boxes of Lucky Charms and Fruit Loops and other junky cheap artificially flavoUred American foods. One of my friends here explained to me that they kind of try to get away from the artificial flavoUring and coloUring here. They just don't have as exciting flavoUrs of stuff here. (No matter how old I get, "blue" is still a pretty good flavor in my book). Though they do have an abundance of black currant flavoUred things here, which is pretty yummy and exciting. 
• Going to the gym for free, after work, at work's facilities. (You know, after all this food obsessing). Boy did I have it easy and convenient and cheap there. I did finally join a gym here and happily go on the way back from work, most days. But it's not *as* convenient. And I actually have to pay for it. 
• Rollerblading. I've got my skates, but it's too cold, and I'm not sure if there's a good path around here like the bike path I used to rollerblade along all the time. There are some lovely canals around here that could be nice to go for a skate or run along... but I'm just afraid of falling in the water!

Oh, right, and I miss friends and family, too... of course... yeah, that...

More on Daily Life

So, I thought I would share more images from my home life in the UK, share some of the quirky, pesky things about being here. Gosh, I'm starting to sound quite rather complainy. Nah, really, I am loving it here. I'm continuing to spend time with new friends, explore the area more, frequent London just about every other weekend. Still living the dream. 

Spring-loaded doors at home. Really? It gets quite annoying. I guess it's a regular thing, here. Something to do with fire safety regulations or something. Three of the doors in my home are spring loaded to close by default. My front door does, too, and it's rather heavy and kind of annoying to try to open while I'm awkwardly juggling groceries, my purse, my gym bag, my keys, trying to wrestle my way in the door. The only door in my home that's not spring loaded is the bathroom door. Which is the only door that I would prefer stay closed by default because there are definitely smokers elsewhere in this apartment complex. And the cigarette smoke definitely finds it's way through my bathroom vent and into my place. Ew.

Sad sad shrunken oven. Even before my shipped box o stuff arrived, I just knew my cookie sheets wouldn't even fit in the oven. I can't even bake two round cake layers on a rack side by side. I have to put them on different racks in the oven. Which of course means uneven baking and some funky stuff coming out. (Well, ok, maybe I am being a perfectionist. My friends here still gladly ate the cake and said it was great.). I suppose I should experiment some more with the convection "fan assist" setting on the oven...

You know how some celebrities go to other countries and advertise products they wouldn't normally advertise in their home country? Well, The Simpsons are no exception!

Hooray, I finally got a power converter for my precious pink Kitchenaid mixer. haven't actually tried it yet, hope I don't fry anything! This transformer was specifically recommended for using US Kitchenaid mixers in the UK, so here's hoping it works! I'm also planning to use it for my sewing machine and my Hello Kitty waffle maker. And those are the most important appliances I have here that would require a special power converter. (Electronics, on the other hand, are generally more forgiving and flexible and don't necessarily require power converters, just "adapters"). And yes, on the fridge is my snazzy kitchen timer I got when I was in Berlin. And yes, I bought it just because it matched my Kitchenaid. What brilliant marketing that was on their part - to make these kitchen timers to match the colors of specialty Kitchenaid mixers, just so kitchen gadget geeks like myself will buy it, "just because it matches!". And as far as other appliances go, I've so far bought myself a UK hair dryer, hand mixer, and iron (which I still don't even know how to use. Society has come too far to have to still iron clothing. Pfffft). And just to complain a bit more, UK plugs are just so big and clunky and heavy and awkward. Seriously, what were they thinking?

.

 

Speaking of my fridge, this would be the freezer part of my fridge. And you can see how well thought out and planned things in my flat were by how they had to cut away the molding at the bottom of the wall, just so that the freezer door could open enough. Neither the freezer door nor the fridge door actually open all the way. But at least my fridge is "big enough". I guess. Hubby says in many flats all they have are tiny fridges, smaller-sounding than my dorm fridge even was. Another sad thing about the fridge is that I have to choose cheese or ice cream. At least as far as what I set the optimal temperature for. There is only one temperature control that rules both the fridge and the freezer. If I set it too cold, my ice cream turns impossibly hard. But if I set it too warm, my cheese spoils prematurely.

This clown picture came with the flat. I found it in the water heater closet. And in the closet it shall stay.

Pesky pesky hot tap and cold tap. Which becomes either scalding or freezing after running either for a mere few seconds. Seriously, how is a person supposed to use these things!?

So, one day there was some traffic on the motorway back from work, so I decided to try to take the back roads home. Roundabout, roundabout, roundabout, roundabout. This is what my GPS said. Seriously, it IS this bad. And yes, by now I have, officially gotten confused on a large roundabout and drove around it a couple of times until I figured out which way I was supposed to go.

The shower shield. Folks here don't seem to believe in whole shower curtains. Just these weird glass half panels to guard the shower water from going outside of the bathtub. Forget being able to rinse anything under the bathtub faucet, because the glass panel goes inwards, for whatever illogical reason, but the edge on the bathtub prevents the glass panel from swinging outwards. Silly. Ah well, at least the bathtub is a relatively normal height off of the floor. I've definitely used some showers in both the UK and Germany where the bathtub is about a foot or more higher than we're used to in the States, making you think you could easily slip and break a leg in your awkwardly far step down out of the bathtub with wet feet, or onto your IKEA towel-like bath mat that IKEA advises buying the non-slip rubber backing for, but you were too cheap to buy.

My house key. Now how old fashioned is that? Yes, my door lock is like your typical old school peek-through keyhole. I must say, it doesn't leave me feeling the most secure. And if there was somehow a fire in the house and I couldn't find my key to unlock the door then forget it, I'm toast.

 

 Another silly thing about being here is that if you want to watch TV, you need to buy a TV license. Really?? In the States TVs are like our basic human rights! Well, my flat came with a TV, however I'm not interested enough in actually watching it. Part of me thinks I might be missing out, and it might be more of my "touristy" cultural experience. But meh, don't need to waste the time (besides, that's what the internet is for!). And it's like £12 per month for the TV license. I'm too cheap to pay for it. Apparently if you don't actually watch TV you can claim to the powers that be that you don't need a license, which I did. However, the UK TV licensing committee isn't all completely cold-hearted and money-grubbing. If you are blind, you get a half-price discount on what you have to pay for a TV license. Seriously, I'm not making this up  TV license for the blind