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

Snowed In!

Well no, not really snowed in. Hardly. Really? You call that a snowstorm? (At least they're not silly enough to name every single snowstorm...). Ever since I'd moved here I had been warned that even the slightest bit of snow shut down the country and people would just hide and not even know what to do with themselves. Well it snowed (what I would consider to be) a little bit on Friday, all throughout the day. I'd offered to bring my other American work-buddy cohort back to my area with me, as she is looking for a flat in a more city-city, but for the time being had been set up through work with a flat "near" work. (Though it still takes her 1-2 hours to get in via public transport). But wouldn't you know, shortly after we left work, her landlord-to-be cancelled the flat viewing on account of the snow. (It does seem like a good excuse for stuff here). So I offered her a ride back to her place. Which unlike my commute of primarily motorways, involves typical residential cul-de-sac side street areas. So I skittered and slid us in my Kittymobile through the barely treated streets, got her home safely, and then had to scramble to get back to my home in time to grab my bag and catch the train to London. Well, Google Maps had already told me that my normal 40 minute commute would be over an hour to get back, as the traffic view on Google Maps shows the motorway home bleeding red almost all the way. So I guess having to take the sidestreets home wasn't too much worse. But I must say, taking frenzied and frantic confusing roundabouts, and adding slippery snow? Character building, to say the least... but fortunately there wasn't terrible traffic, and fortunately my route involved going *down* a hill that I saw many cars spinning their wheels and struggling to get up. So I made it back home with just barely enough time to spare to throw a few more items into my rolling weekend suitcase and dash down the street to the train station. Or rather skitter and scuffle and drag my suitcase which doesn't really "roll" very well when the sidewalk is covered in snow. I go to the machine in the station, insert the credit card used to buy the tickets I booked, print them out, just as I hear an announcement over the loudspeaker that my train is cancelled. And of course, the overused national tagline, "We apologise for any inconvenience caused.". (It's either that, or "We're going to be dysfunctional and useless. So it's up to you to plan accordingly for it." plus, of course, more apologies.). Yeah. Uh-huh. Ok, so I go deeper into the station, look around for someone who looks useful, go to the actual ticket agent, and ask "So now what? How do I get to London?" He tells me since my train was cancelled, I can just use my ticket for whatever next train, which I figured would be the case. He tells me there's one coming in a little while, but not to this station, at a nearby station, so I'd have to catch it from there. Ready to face the annoyance of walking through the snow to the other station, I ask the man "How do I get to that station?". To which he replies, "Take the next train there, it'll be arriving on Platform 3". Oh, right, whew, that's easy enough. I don't have to walk the extra mile or so to the next station. Silly me. So I catch said train, take it one station down, check the schedule board there and yes, train to London, 4:53pm. I still had a bit of time. So I wait. And wait and wait. And then the display says the train will come at 5:07. And then the display just says vaguely "Delayed", as an announcement comes on over the loudspeaker that the train is delayed because it is stuck at the station I'd just come from. What? I thought the train wasn't even traveling from there! I had no idea what was going on, and quickly realized nobody else did either. So finally the train arrives, not as crowded as I'd feared, since it seemed all these people waiting to go to London had to be rescheduled to this train. So I get on the train, text Hubby to let him know what's going on and when I should be arriving, listen to my tunes, and get ready for the usual nearly 2 hour train ride. Next thing I know, after not even through a whole CD's worth of music, the train is stopping and we're all told we need to get out at this station and wait for the next train that's coming along because something, blah blah snow, blah blah excuses. At this point I'm starting to wonder "Why can some of the trains apparently make it through the snow ok and others can't?" I don't know. And furthermore, for how many years has this country been getting snow? It's not like it's a surprise. It IS wintertime. Other countries that have proper more consistent snow have seemingly perfectly functioning railway systems. So after waiting out in the cold at some station, not knowing where exactly I was, in anticipation of the train, it finally shows up, and thankfully brings me, with no further interruptions, into good old Marylebone station ("Home Base" station from when I stayed in London for my project in college, if I haven't already mentioned that) as planned. Well a few hours later than planned, but I've learned to not expect much. On the plus side, I had some time to kill while waiting for Hubby at the station, and I found that there is a branch of Paul there, this yummy French Patisserie style bakery chain that sells French macarons. 
It snowed for a good part of the weekend, but even still it amounted to maybe a whopping less-than-half-a-foot. But still, as people in this part of the world promised me, it was enough to cause major disruptions to society.

300+ Flights from Heathrow Airport Cancelled Due to Snow

Really?...

A coworker of mine told me about the time he was visiting the states, driving on the Mass Pike in the snow, he and his fellow Brits pretty timid with the snow, creeping along at maybe 20 mph down the highway, everyone else, of course, zooming by them. Yes, New Englanders seem a bit more... "robust" in some ways than "Old Englanders".

It was still snowy enough this morning on my way into work. Roads were clear, but there was still plenty of pretty snow around elsewhere. While I normally park in the farther away makeshift parking lot on the grass (to save myself the hassle of trying to find a space in the closer formal paved lot), I decided to park in the paved lot thinking at least it'll have to be plowed and not as much of a hassle to park in as the snowy grassy plot of land. Ha. Silly me, what was I thinking? Plow is not even in their vocabulary. (Literally. I was typing an email about it, and spellcheck objected to "plow", insisting it is not a word or is a misspelling). I lurched onto the snow-covered paved lot and after nearly taking out the car next to mine's side mirror, I scooted into a snow-covered space. Fortunately my car didn't get stuck in the snow upon leaving, as I'd feared it might. The drive home was actually surprisingly pleasant and free and clear, probably because people were still hiding from the snow. It was one of the few commutes home where for a good stretch of the motorway, the variable speed limit displays weren't showing anything (implying the default 70 mph speed limit. Or so I think. Who knows, I haven't really been formally trained in driving here!)