THE Football World Championship Game

...otherwise know as the Super Bowl.

This year, the Super Bowl coincided with Simon's birthday, and weeks before the Seattle Seahawks even made it into the playoffs, we decided to host a Super Bowl Birthday Extravaganza (cue echo..).

Well, as luck would have it (though really, we all know it was skill!), not only did the Seahawks make it to the Super Bowl, but it was a crushing victory.

Simon was granted a birthday wish that probably any 12 year old birthday boy in Seattle would want-and had a grand time while doing it.  He's seen a Super Bowl before (even if it meant having to stay awake until 3am in London...), but whether you're an expat (of either the local or national sense), or a Seattle native...Sunday was pretty special.  And not just because he looked better in the wig than I did!

Keep Calm and Cheer on Wilson

Showing our 12th Man Pride

Aloha, Hey Y'all, and Ainngai

That's 'hello' in Hawaii, the South, and Alaska (Inuit).

I often forget how diverse this country is-which is really sad, when I consider that I drove from North Carolina to Washington State not even 18 months ago.  But...I do.

Simon and I have done a fair amount of travel in the US this year-and explicitly tried to tick off a few states he hasn't been to-Alaska and Hawaii-both of which are fairly convenient to reach from Seattle.  Throw in a trip to the South to go visit family...and we've covered a fair amount of geographic and cultural diversity in this country this year.

I've been to Alaska numerous times, and Hawaii once previously-so I knew what to expect in terms of the topography, people, food, weather...everything. But, I couldn't help but be struck by Simon's reaction as we got stuck into these places this past year (most recently, just last month)-and observe the wonder with which he looks at the US sometimes.  By hopping on a flight for a few hours to go to a different state-it can very much be like travelling to a different country.

Sometimes I think that being married to Simon must be what it's like to have a child-and constantly be forced to look at something thru the the eyes of never seeing or experiencing it before-and I am infinitely thankful for the forcing function.  The list of these firsts hasn't gone down in the past 18 months, only evolved.  I'm sure it will continue to evolve in 2014, and I really look forward to seeing something I've already seen before thru a fresh pair of eyes.

(kicks self for taking US for granted)

Back to the Homeland

After 1 year and (what will be...) 29 days, Simon will return to the mother ship for the first time since departure.

I am incredibly excited for him to be able to go home and see friends and family-and experience the sense of familiar that he will surely feel by being back in London.

I wonder if he's truly prepared however, for what has changed-both in London, and him.  I recall that there was a tipping point for me that made me feel less familiar with the US and more familiar with London-almost a comfort level.  I don't know if this will be the trip for Simon-it is just the first year after all, but it has been a year, so he's probably quite settled in the 'American-ness' of his life already.

This should be interesting.

A Season of Firsts

It's safe to say, I now know what it must be like to be the parent of a small child...Since our time back in the US, and presuming it isn't permanent, I am keen to chase as many First Time Experiences as possible-for both Simon & I, though mainly for Simon.

To wit:  This year alone, in no particular order, Simon has:

• Filed his first US tax return
• Attended opening night for the Seattle Mariners (a first for me as well)
• Joined a softball league, and played two games.  Which led to...
• Visiting the emergency room-just this week..Simon fractured a bone in his arm after falling at said Softball game on Sunday.  OK. That one we didn't 'chase.'
• Played a game of kickball.  Only one game, unfortunately-due to the aforementioned arm, he will be playing no more.
• Purchased a house
• Observed just *how many* prescription drug commercials are on TV (it's not legal to do so in the UK)
• Started to  just a *little bit*) enjoy drinking an IPA

...and that's just the big stuff.  We do however, still have a few boxes to tick.  Like:

• Learning how to drive
• ..and with that knowledge, getting a drivers license.  Just in case.
• Visiting Alaska and Hawaii (we'll tick these boxes before the end of the year.  woo!)

What else?   What other first time experiences (parents?  Expats?...) should we be chasing for Simon?

It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Worst of Times...

I'm sitting at work today-it's a Sunday-to get some work done, and some life admin done, as the past two weeks have been absolutely crazy.  I know people (myself included) overuse that phrase to describe their life, but in this case, the past two weeks are a real reflection of that sentiment.

It Was the Best of Times...
Sunday, April 29th, Simon and I took a big step in the direction of getting ourselves back to the US.  I've been really quiet about this topic the past few months, and it's time to let the cat out of the bag on everything related to this, as I have a feeling this will become a large topic of focus in our lives for the next several months.
On that Sunday, we booked our one-way tickets from London to the US (Charlotte, NC to be specific) for a July 2 departure-just 2 days before July 4; Independence Day.  Seems fitting. :)
We'll fly in to Charlotte, and spend a week or so visiting my father, catching up with friends, *buying a car* (oh, that little detail), and then head to the beach-the NC/SC beaches are just some of the best in the US in my humble opinion, and I've talked to Simon about them for ages-it's time he gets to experience it first hand.  From there, we'll take ~4-5 weeks and drive cross country and up to Seattle for our final destination.  I still have my condo in Seattle, so we'll stay there until we either get jobs in Seattle-or up sticks and move to San Francisco (plan B).  I'll bore everyone with the details on the job search later, and our travel plans-once we know what they are...but, that's the gist.

Then, Monday, April 30th was our First Anniversary as a married couple.  I can't believe it's been a year already!  It's been an incredible year, and if it's anything to go by, I look forward to the next 50 years with Simon as well.  We splurged with a 7-course tasting menu (wine with each course) at Le Gavroche, and oh what an experience that was!  We ate and drank so well (the best was the cheese souffle), and it is now surely a top-3 meal for me in London.  I will remember that night-and the hangover the next day-for some time to come.  It was a truly special experience.


It Was the Worst of Times...
Wednesday, May 2nd however is where life decided it was time to remind you how fickle it can be: Simon's Dad passed away.  He had not been a well man the entire time I've known him (3 heart attacks, numerous angina attacks, and more trips to the hospital than I can genuinely remember), and he was in the hospital when he passed away, but it was-and still is-a shock to the system.  I was in Dublin when Simon phoned my mobile at ~11am.  As soon as I saw the call, I knew exactly why he was calling: it's just one of those things you know.
We spent last weekend at Simon's Dad's house taking care of 'admin' along with Simon's brother & sister.  Simon heads back up today to have a meeting with the church vicar on Monday, and then the funeral is planned for May 18.
Simon is the executor of the will, so the past week has also been intense in beginning the paper chase to settle the estate.  I've tried to help where I can with phone calls to various companies to request paperwork to wrap up this account or that account, but there still seems to be a fair bit to do-and I think we're both feeling overwhelmed at the admin-both for his father's estate, and as we try to wrap up our lives here.

The silver lining to all of this (I am trying to stay positive...), is that it has meant he's been able to spend some good time with his brother & sister-and, Simon doesn't leave the country with the burden of his father's health hanging on him.  It sounds horrible to say-but it is the hard truth. Simon even recognizes that when he was to last see his dad in June before we leave could quite possibly have been the last time he saw him alive.   And, once we land in the US, Simon can't leave the country for 6 months (part of the conditional visa/green card process).  I couldn't bear the thought of Simon arriving in the US, and then not being able to return if he had to for his Dad.

What has been incredibly surprising to me (I disclose this in trying to keep with the true spirit of this blog), is the lack of difference in general approach/admin/details that seem to exist between the US and the UK on the topic of death and funerals.  It all seems incredibly familiar to me-the process-and I'm very surprised, given how different other common things (renting a flat, for example) have been.

Where the US and UK do diverge on this concept however is in price.  Before Simon spoke to the funeral director about the pricing for everything, I told him that I recall my mother's funeral expenses (all in) ran about $10k-and that was a fairly standard price.  Given how typically expensive everything in the UK is, we were bracing our selves for a £10k price tag (or ~$15k).  Surprisingly, the entire cost for the funeral will barely run £2k.  Everything (coffin, flowers, funeral home...everything) is so much less than what it is in the US.  Go figure.

Well, that's it for now.  There's so much to do in the next week-and subsequent weeks-that I actually need to get moving.  I will try to update a bit more regularly over the next few weeks about well, everything.  It's been a crazy few weeks, and it isn't stopping any time soon!

Would you Like Fries with that?

Random seen on the way in to work...

New Year's Eve in London

Finally!  After four NYEs in London, I finally got around to seeing the London fireworks in person! 

I’ve been planning this for months:  my company’s new office is in Soho-and we’re currently occupying the 5^th floor of a high rise building that provides the perfect vantage point-an unhampered view of the London Eye.  Yippie!!!

Sounds crazy, I know:  let’s go to the office to watch the fireworks!  But, many years ago, when I lived in Charlotte, NC-and my office was located on the 36^th floor of the Bank of America tower in downtown, I lost count of how many colleagues would go into the office on July 4^th with their families and watch the fireworks.  Why not?  No crowds.  No weather issues.  Great access to clean bathrooms...

So, Simon & I had dinner at one of our favourite restaurants, Ebury in Victoria, around 8.30pm, and then around 10.30pm, we made our way to the office.  Signed in at security without any problems, and then made our way to the 5^th floor where we popped the bottle of champagne we had in the fridge to chill down for another 45 minutes.

I also discovered on this evening that you can live stream BBC TV programs (an evening of firsts!), so while we were hanging out in the office, waiting for midnight & for the champagne to chill, I live-streamed Jools Holland’s Hootenanny on BBC2 [as an aside...I love Jools Holland’s live programs-if you have the chance to watch, you should!].

Then, at midnight, we got to watch an incredible firework display from the comfort of the office with a lovely bottle of champagne.  

Pretty neat, huh?  If I had to do it all over again, the only thing I would change is that we’d do dinner in the Soho area as well, and avoid the tube as it’s getting that close to midnight.  The tube at 10.30pm/11pm on NYE is a zoo-I lost count of how many drunk people there were blocking the escalators/entrances, throwing up, and making general arses of themselves (as you do...).   

The tube station near the office was closed due to overcrowding when we finally left the office around 12.45pm, so we walked up to Great Portland Street tube about 30 minutes away.  But, the rain had stopped, and the temperature was perfect.  It was a lovely stroll once we got out of the madness of Soho, and was nice to burn off a few calories from our dinner earlier in the evening.

All in all, it was a fantastic NYE-and Simon seemed pleased as punch about seeing the fireworks as well!

I'm with the Brits

This past week, I attended my first-ever pan-European conference for work.  Over the years, I've attended numerous US conferences, and several UK conferences.  This was the first conference I've ever attended that spanned not only the UK, but the continent as well.  And, let me just say....if there were ever any doubt about identifying with the country I've been living in for the past 3 years and 8 months (!), that all evaporated this past week!
The chaos, pushing & shoving (we were a bit cramped...) and 'non-British' queuing *really* got on both my and my London-based colleagues nerves-and I can honestly say I was longing for the ways of the English. Funny.

Conversely, I don't think others saw me as an American at this conference either; I was quite firmly with the Brits, and identified as being 'one of them' (primarily by non-native English language people who can't discern the accent difference).

And, I was completely OK with it.

Lesson Learned

After 3 years, and close to a dozen trips back to the West Coast of the US, I think I have finally cracked the nut on this jet lag thing!

To wit:  I flew in to San Francisco this past Sunday, and by Wednesday (a mere 3 full days later!) felt completely human-in fact, I was feeling pretty good on Tuesday-except for the falling asleep at 10pm part.

What's different from this trip, you ask?  I think it comes down to one thing:  keeping it simples.  Normally, my return trips to the US, whether for work or personal or a combo of two mean that by the 2nd day in the US, I'm working a full day AND going out with friends in the evening-or simply running 'life admin' errands all day long from the moment I'm awake (usually at 5am the first few days.  sigh), until I hit a wall around 8pm.

This time, as I was staying in Sunnyvale, CA-and knew NO ONE within a 50 mile radius, I simply woke up each morning, went to the gym, went to work, went out for dinner, and went back to the hotel.  That's it.  No burning the candle at both ends.  No running myself crazy.  Just a very simple schedule.  Yes, I was awake at 5am on the 1st three days, but as I eased into my routine, staying awake until 10pm-and even midnight on Wednesday were both possible and pain-free!

It sounds silly, but I think this is a complete milestone in how I'm able to cope with the 8 hour time difference from London to the West Coast (London/East Coast has never been a problem)!  It just pains me to think about what 'could have been' the past 3 years. :)  I'll have to test this theory again the next time I'm back in the US.

Fingers crossed I may have just stumbled across my 'jetl ag miracle cure'!

April 30, 2011: A Perfect Day

In the mania that has been since returning from getting married-and wanting to leave the Dorothy posts up high for a while (more on this in another post), I'm just now getting round to recording my thoughts about the wedding.  Whew.

What can I say? Not that we were striving for a perfect day-god knows that would have been incredibly unrealistic-but, in hindsight, and without trying to sound too mushy...it was a perfect day. 

As per the usual, I was up and awake before Simon.  Between jetlag and just general 'ok, time to get up', I was up at 8am.  It was nice to have a bit of peace and quite to myself; I thought the next 90 minutes would be all I'd get to myself all day long, and that thought was not incorrect!  The next moment to myself would come 18 hours later around 2am when we both went to bed (god only knows how poor Kate Middleton must have felt: up at 6am, and Fireworks at 3am to celebrate the marriage).

I pottered downstairs to the lobby to grab a cup of free (but yummy) coffee, and then came back upstairs and sat outside in the hallway reading the newspaper, enjoying my coffee and poking around on the internet.  I know it must sound odd to say I sat in the hallway, but between the lighting, benches and relative quiet at 8am on a Saturday, it was actually a great place to sit-plus, the wifi is better in the hall than in our room.  I will confess, as I wrote the blog post about our wedding on that day, I did find myself getting a little teary eyed.  Ok.  A lot teary eyed.

Off to breakfast at 9.30am with Simon, his best man, my man of honour-and his wife and another friend. [This trio of people are my oldest and dearest friends and would effectively be my salvation for the day.]  A big breakfast, and back up to the room at 10.30 to shower up before heading off to hair & makeup at 11am.  It's the only time in my life I've ever splurged for professional hair & makeup.  It was soooo worth it.  Not just because my hair & makeup still looked pretty darned good 14 hours later, but it was nice to just sit there and not have to worry about it!

Even though I told him he didn't have to come, I should have known better:  my man of honor, Scott came up at 11.30a and sat with me for the duration.  What can I say?  He's a champ.  And, he probably has no idea how much I appreciated having him there.  If I would have sat there by myself, I'm pretty sure I would have hit freak-out mode in no time flat.  Best friends you've known for close to 30 years are incredibly rare.  If you find yourself fortunate enough to have one, you should consider yourself the luckiest person in the world.  I do.

After hair & makeup, we had just enough time to grab a quick bite of lunch before I had to hustle off and finish getting ready, and the same for Scott.  It's a good thing we took the time for lunch.  As I've heard more times than I can recount from friends who have wed, I really didn't get much more to eat for the rest of the day:  my plate of food at the reception was only half eaten before I had to abandon it, and neither of us even had a wedding cupcake (well, I finally ate mine the next day, but Simon never got one).

Little did I know that while this was all going on, Scott's wife and our other friend were working pretty hard behind the scenes on the last minute details that NEVER even occured to me.  Having never been married before, it never occured to me (for example...) how to get the boutineres from the florist to the men.  Or, my bouquet up to my room for when I was getting ready.  Or, any other dozen little things that just never even crossed my mind.  I consider myself to be an organized person-and on the things that I thought about, I was organzied (I swear!).  As for the things I didn't think about?  Again, all I can say is thank god for friends!

Back in the room at 10 minutes to 2pm-with t-minus 40 minutes, I still need to get dressed.  It was a warm day (finally-after 6 days of crap weather), and after Simon's shower, between the heat from the sun and the heat from the shower, it was swealtering in the room when I arrived.  Within moments, sweat was trickling down my face and I begin to hit panic mode:  a)my makeup is going to be ruined b)my hair is going to be ruined and c)I'm concerned that once I get my dress on, between the heat and the nerves, I'm going to pass out!  Oh, and at that moment, the photographer shows up to take a few 'getting ready' shots.  Good grief.

We bust open the windows, pull the box fan out from the closet and crank it on high.  It starts to cool off, but I'm still too warm to get in my dress.  So, I try to stall:  I lay everything out to make final assembly fast.  Put on my jewellery, go to the potty one more time....anything to stall for time so I cool off.

Finally, I do-and at that moment my girlfriends arrive to help me in my dress.  Scott, bless him, probably would have stepped up if I had asked him, but it was probably better he didn't! :)  I've lost close to 14 pounds over the past 3 months-with most lost the last 6 weeks before the wedding-so I didn't have the dress altered to fit; it would have been a wasted effort.  Luckily, I bought some lingerie tape-the doublesided stuff-and after I put the dress on, my friends procede to tape me in the dress.  The dress had a sash tie, so I could sinch the waist myself for auto-correct on the sizing, but the bust was in great need of help, so we spent 15 minutes taping me in.  I wasn't going anywhere any time soon!

All the while, we're keeping up a good patter of banter, which is helping to keep calm.  But, again, like clock work, as we get the dress sorted, there's another knock on the door.  It's 2:20pm, and my father has arrived to take me to the ceremony.  He looked so handsome-and a bit shellshocked at seeing me-that I almost burst into tears when I opened the door.  I had to have my friend Kirsten punch me in the arm to keep me from crying.   (Kirsten is very good at punching people-and has been for 20+ years, so I knew she would be the right person for the job.)  Scott shows up a moment later, and then there's a flurry of getting boutineres on him & my dad before we all catch our breath before heading out the door.

I think Kirsten can now see the nerves on my face, so she starts rambling on about her oldest son (who's 5) finally loosing his baby teeth.  She keeps this up for the 2-3 minutes it takes us to to walk to the ceremony site (the theatre on the property).  She probably doesn't realize this, but I'm pretty sure her talking is what kept me calm those last few minutes.  

The next thing I know, I'm standing at the end of the aisle next to Simon who *really* does look like he's going to pass out-and feels it too.  His hand, when I touch it is cold and clammy.  To the point that the first few minutes of the ceremony, I'm not really listening.  Instead, I'm plotting as to whether or not I try to catch Simon when he falls, try to tip him in the direction of his best man who is much larger and could probably catch him without injury, or just let him hit the ground.  Bless his heart.  It was a bit warm in the room-and the pressure he was probably feeling didn't help.  Ironically, as a result of thinking he's the one that's struggling, I find that any nerves I had were gone. I had always presumed that I would be the one that would be mush and Simon would have to be the strong one at the alter.  But, one look at Simon made me snap to.  I was surprised at how calm I sounded when we were reciting our vows, and even more surprisingly, didn't shed a single tear at the cermony.

Fortunately, he didn't pass out, and after 15 minutes, we say I Will (it's an Episcopal thing).  We're married!

From there, it seems that all of the nerves are gone for both of us.  I feel the weight lift from my shoulders, and I'm suddenly quite aware of how excited I am about spending the next 8-10 hours with my friends-just hanging out, drinking and dancing.  Is it weird that the ceremony was almost like the work/chore we had to get thru to get to the fun part?  Hm.  I'd never really thought of the ceremony in that way before, but given that was where the pressure was greatest, it does make me wonder...

After the ceremony, we all herd to the front of the hotel where the steps and the entrance are quite grand, for group and wedding party photos, and then we head off with the photographer for more photos-and send people on their way to the pub with drink vouchers in hand.  It's just gone 3.30pm at this point, and the 'English' part of the wedding is about to hit full stride:  in the pub, drink in hand, and let's get pissed!  Personally, I think it's the way to go-what a pity we didn't get to join for another hour. :)

As it was a surprisingly nice day, we were able to take a good number of photos both inside &outside.  I haven't seen the pics yet, but am super excited for their arrival!  McMenamins (the place we got married) is just so freaking photogenic, that I know the pics are going to look great.  My favorite part of all of this, is at one point, we're standing on the 2nd floor balcony of the hotel.  The photographer is on the ground and taking photos looking up at us.  It dawns on both of us at that point that it's all very 'Royal Wedding', so we jokingly start waving to the masses-in that bizarre Royal way.  Mind you, there are no 'masses'-just a few friends and other random folks wandering down below with drinks in hand, but it does make the strangers pause and look at us with a very puzzled look on their faces!

From there, the next 8 hours are again, a blur.  Food (only a bit..), drinks (again, just a bit-I don't think I had 3 drinks total in the reception), dancing, talking, laughing.  The reception was a perfect way to spend the evening.  The locale was simply perfect, the decorations my friends added couldn't have been better, the music was fantastic, and it all seemed to go off without a hitch.  I remember snippets of the evening, but it seems like every time I'd look at my watch, I'd lost another 2 hour chunk-though it felt like 5 minutes!  Fortunately, the photographer was at the reception for a few hours, there were a lot of pictures taken from friends, and we hired a photo booth (like at the beach), so there's plenty of documentary evidence even if I can't remember much.  I have seen several photos since-many even with me posted and smiling.  I can't remeber the picture to save my life.

We had to be out of the reception by midnight, and from there, we pass out more drink vouchers and folks head out to the bar on premise that is open the latest-the distillery.  We nip back to the room to change clothes:  12 hours in a suit for Simon and 10 hours in my dress=two people who really want to put on some jeans!  Don't get me wrong, my dress was super comfy-perhaps the most comfortable dress of any kind I've ever worn.  But, 10 hours in any one clothing article starts to bug me. :)

We head out to the distillery, but after half a drink for both of us, we decide to say good night.  It's beginning to push 1am, we're pooped, and have to be up by 9am the next day (hosted brunch at 10.30am).  Plus, it's starting to get boozy-and, not that I'm not a fan of a drunken evening, but I'm so tired, that I can't even be bothered.  Who knew:  leading up to the wedding, I presumed I'd drink more than what I did on our wedding day.  But, as we both kept getting drinks and then being pulled off for something, neither of us actually drank that much when it was all over.

Favorite memories of the day:  seeing my dad for the first time,  the minister's ceremony (Colin, the man who married is a B-school classmate of mine; he was an ordained Episcopal minister before B-school.  It was a such gift to have someone who knew us to perform the ceremony), getting to spend more than 3 hours in a year with my old friends from home, having homemeade Cherry Lemon Vanilla Sundrop shipped in from North Carolina (don't ask.  it's a long story...), watching one of Simon's friends-who tends to be the calm one of the group-go completely *bonkers* on the dance floor, seeing everyone have so much fun with the photo booth, being serenaded by Chris (Pat Benetar's "Hearbreaker"; she used to sing in a Pat Benetar cover band...) on the dance floor, the group dance at the end to New York, New York (an English tradition. go figure), and simply getting to spend a proper weekend surrounded by family and friends.

I'm leaving out so much, but I should stop.  I could write a book on this-the errands the week leading up to the ceremony, the exhaustion we both felt the next morning (after being woken up at 8am.  grr...),  the irony of both the news of Osama Bin Laden and my friend Dorothy going missing all on the same weekend, the surprise (and delight) at finding out that people actually you cash in envelopes on your wedding day, the beauty of the flowers-and sadness to know that I'm probably the only one who noticed them, the fun of having Eric stand up and tell the story about 'On the Road,'  and on and on.

OK.  I really am stopping now.

My final $.02:  I will NEVER do this again! ;)

I'll post a few pro shots once we receive, but in the interim, here are a few that were taken from my camera:

My Handsome Father

Man of Honour after hair & Makeup

Scott, moi, Kirsten, Scott's wife, Susan-my oldest and dearest friends

A Different Wedding

...my wedding.

After 3 incredible years with the man I met after living in London for 4 days, we're getting married today.

I'll give a full update once everything is over, and we've had a chance to catch our breath, but suffice it to say, I'm so excited for this day to be here.  I feel very lucky to be marrying someone who is a better fit for me than I ever thought I could find.  I guess it just took going 4500 miles away from home to find him!

Love you, Bunny and look forward to spending the rest of my life with you.  Let the fun begin.

Relocation Benefits

An old colleague in the US recently asked me about relocation benefits: she's contemplating a move for work abroad, and isn't sure what benefits may (or may not...) be available to her. In the course of crafting my rather lengthy response, it dawned on me that there's power in the collective, so I thought I'd repost my response here and ask folks to pipe up with other suggestions.

In no particular order, here's what I've managed to come up with:

The first thing I'd state is this: regardless of what is *offered*, you should get creative in what you ask for-and ask for everything (this gives you a better position to negotiate from!): salary too low? Ask for a transportation subsidy or more on temp housing. Own a house in the US? Inquire about your company supporting a sale that guarantees you won't loose money (ie the company covers any difference between initial purchase price & resale price-PLUS expenses). Or something to that effect. Anyhoo, for what it's worth, here's a laundry list of things I've either personally received (or know others have received). Some if it's probably pretty obvious, but others may be a bit more obscure..


-Pre-move visit to search for housing (can't say how important this one is)
-Up front local market real estate agent support (whether to buy or rent...)
-It goes without saying: corporate housing for a minimum of 2 months. Push for more. And then, if you're able to move to permanent housing earlier, get your company to agree to split the difference on the 'rental refund.'
-Even better: get them to pay for housing for the duration of your stay
-Ditto for living expenses (ie a per diem). This is well & truly a true 'expat package' feature, and not that many companies do it any longer, but it still never hurts to ask!
-House hold good shipping (options: air freight-faster, but *very* expensive. a good solution to getting a few extra boxes that you couldn't bring on the airplane. or, shipping container....slower (think ~6 weeks), but this is where you could literally bring your entire house). -and negotiate how *much* the company is willing to ship-regardless of method
-Visa support-push for the most open type of visa that would be available (ie one that will last for years and avoid the need to be 'company sponsored'-if that is indeed an option where you're moving-ie the equivalent of what is/was a Tier 1 in the UK)
-Also make sure that the household shipping includes packing & unpacking
-Relocation bonus. The new tea kettle, TV, couch, etc...isn't going to be free! :) this is an especially good one to negotiate, as frequently hiring managers can't add more to the salary-but relo bonuses tend to come out of different 'pots', so there could be more flexibility here...
-Tax preparation-both for the US & the country you relo to. Be *aggressive* on this one-even request a pre-move tax/financial planning chat with a professional. This gets very expensive to pay for yourself-and trust me, you'll need help on your taxes both while you're abroad, and for a good number of years after you move back!
-Storage: not moving all of your stuff abroad? Ask your company to pay for your storage in the US
-Auto: if you plan to drive, get a transportation allowance-whether it means a company provided car/driver or whatever....or...if you don't plan to drive, ask for an allowance for public transportation
-Early contract cancellation fees: For example, if you need to break your mobile contract early or gym membership, apartment rental...ask for your company to cover the cancellation charges.
-Banking: get your company to help you establish a checking account AND get a credit card
-Flybacks: have them pay for you to return to the US X times each year-to be used for personal trips at your discretion
-Your boy/girlfriend/partner/husband: visa sponsorship as well as the same relo benefits you'd ask for ('stuff', car/xport, flybacks, etc...).
-Language Lessons: unless you're both already fluent in the foreign language of where you're moving to! :)
-Have a pet? Get the company to ship the pet-and pay for the quarantine pre/post shipping.
-If you'd still be paid your salary in your US bank, have the company cover any wire transfer fees you'd incur for getting money to the country you're moving  to live off of. 

Whew.  That's what I came up with in just a matter of minutes-I'm sure I've missed loads-like, there has to be things to ask for if you have children.  But, I've no clue about that! :)

What else is there?  What else have you received/heard of someone receiving as part of a a relocation package?  Give a shout-or better yet, post your comment.  Thanks!

Christmas in London

For the first time in my almost 38 years on the planet, I'm not home in North Carolina for Christmas.  Given the stress and expense of travel, the fact that we're pinching pennies and pence to save for the wedding, and I was just in the US in October-oh, and Simon asked...-I decided not to go home this year.  Hindsight 20/20, given the travel woes due to weather-London airports shut down for *days* due to a few inches of snow-I may not have made it home-or back to begin with! Best. Decision. Ever.  Yes, I miss my family & friends, but it was nice starting what will be Simon's & my first Christmas tradition for hopefully years to come. aw.

Anyhoo..This post isn't meant to be about that.  Rather, as I've been puttering around town the past few weeks-I've tried to make note of all of the glorious things that seem to happen in London/England at Christmas.  Since I was here for the full experience this year, I wanted to take a moment & mention some of the things I've observed.  I've tried to group them, as otherwise I'd be all over the place:

The Sights....

Having never lived in a super-touristy, large city before, I can't comment if other places do this or not.  But, what I will say is that London decorates for Christmas really well!  All of the major shopping streets get lit up, and even the minor ones too. :)   The scenes below are from Oxford Street & Regent Street this year: 

Oxford Circus

                                                      

Regent Street

I could fill a book with all of the street lights, but these were my two favourites.

Oh, and never mind that until just a few days before Christmas, there was actually snow on the ground (oh, thiiiis close to my first White Christmas)!

The Food...

Oh, where to begin?!?  This year, Simon & I decided not to swap presents (re: penny pinching for the wedding)-and we extended that notion to everyone.  So,we gave nor received any presents this year.  It was nice not to have to deal with the stress & mayhem of buying presents (and are already talking about not doing presents again next year), but in the course of doing so-and perhaps because Simon was so excited about me staying here & us having a proper Xmas meal (I swear, he's been talking about the meal since *August*)-that I find that I've thought non-stop about Christmas food the past few weeks.  That being said, there seem to be non-stop Christmas Cooking shows on day & night as well...

Regardless, along the way I've noticed some similarities & differences in what we'd eat in the US v the UK at Christmas.

The Similarities:  Turkey, Cranberry Sauce, Gravy, Stuffing.  The true basics don't change from country to country. 

Differences:  Brussel Sprouts-very, traditional Xmas veg. It's like the ubiquitous British equivalent of the green bean. :); Mince pies are everywhere!  Duck/goose seems to be a bit more common.  And, though snacking is a big part of the day in the US as well, here, the main snack of the day is Cheese.  The planning that goes into selecting your cheese & other bits-crackers, chutneys, side fruits-is considerable.  And, if the 20 minute, 30 person queue I waited in at Neal's Yard Dairy (best cheese in London....) on Christmas Eve is any indication, folks aren't simply going to settle for a wedge of grocery-store-bought cheddar & a cream cheese ball! :)

Entertainment (TV/Music/Sport)...

Three things to note here...For some odd reason, the 'Christmas Number 1' for the music industry seems to be a national obsession. Again, perhaps it's me, but I don't ever remember it being a big deal who had the number 1 song on the charts at Christmas in the US.  Here?  It's discussed & speculated for weeks before-and, as the X Factor (think, American Idol) winner is crowned just ~2 weeks before Christmas, there's a huge push for the current winner's single to reach number 1.  Ah, Simon Cowell.  As much as I hate your music machine, you are a genius.

Second...Though this year wasn't a good example from what I understand, what's on TV on Christmas Day & Boxing Day (Dec 26) is ususally supposed to be really good TV-lots of recent movies in particular-and the networks seem to be quite competitive over showing good programs.  Personally, aside from the annual 24 hours of A Christmas Story on TBS, US TV seems to be fairly poor this time of year, but as England does a better job of shutting down for the day, staying in & watching TV is about the only thing to do, and the networks are happy to oblige!

And last...what kind of expat would I be if I didn't mention Boxing Day Cricket?  Every year, England & Australia play (effectively...) a month's worth of Cricket-almost a game every day.  Christmas is about the halfway point, and the Boxing Day match is always very popular.  As the games are in Australia this year (they alternate locations every other year), the match didn't start until 11.30pm on Christmas (it's the 26th in Oz), and it would go until ~8am.  I called it a night at 1am, but Simon & Scott (our Aussie friend who spent Xmas night with us) stayed up a bit longer.  Though, I guess in truth, the Christmas Day Sporting Event is no different from the US-it's just the choice of sport that's different! :)

 

General Bits...

I love Christmas Crackers.  It's one of the best parts of Christmas in the UK to me-though they were an entirely foreign concept to me until 2008.  Crackers are opened with your Christmas meal by grabbing on one end-and having someone grab the other end.  When you each pull, the cracker (with help from a bit of gunpowder) pops ('cracks') as it tears open.  Crackers usually contain a trinket of some kind, a joke, and a tissue paper hat. You put your hat on & wear it while eating your Christmas meal.  It's my favorite part of Christmas, and I love the irony that a country that is considered to be so 'stiff upper lip' sits around eating their Christmas Meal with paper hats on!
Another great part of Christmas in London is that everyone says 'Merry Christmas.'  Regardless of who they're saying it to (read: someone who isn't Christian).  I think I blogged about this once in 2008 about how surprised I was about this, and though I'm still surprised 3 Christmasses on, the child in me likes that PC-ness simply gets tossed out the window this time of year:  I was in my local grocery store on December 23rd, and overheard a store manager say to an employee who was leaving for the weekend, 'I know you aren't Christian, but Merry Christmas anyway!'  If we would have been in the US, a lawsuit would have ensued, but here, the employee just took it in stride and wished the manager a Merry Christmas in return.  Nice.
The Queens Speech...I can't quite figure this one out.  Tradition as long back as I know, every Christmas Day, the Queen/King of England gives a public speech that's broadcast throughout the UK & even the Commonwealth. No more than 10 minutes long-and the speech this year was barely 5 minutes long-it's usually just a simple 'yea, England' type message from the Queen.  Simon says he hasn't watched the speech since he was a child, and a chat with some of my British friends yielded the same commentary.  Nonetheless, I was glued to the BBC at 3pm when the speech came on.  In truth, I can't remember a thing she said.  Hee.

British Teeth Explained

*Now* I understand.  After resisting for the 2.5 years I've been here, I finally broke down & went to the dentist yesterday.  It's been a year since I saw my US dentist, and it's going to be a while before I see him again, so I decided to bite the bullet & go to the dentist here. I decided to book a checkup & cleaning appointment, and there's a dentist around the corner from the flat who is open on Saturdays.  What could be easier?

I was in and out of the office in 40 minutes-and 15 of that involved paperwork and reading a magazine while waiting.  The sum total of time I was with the dentist?  25 minutes.  In this 25 minutes, he checked my teeth, ran two x-rays-and reviewed them, and put a bit of composite seal on the back of a tooth that was looking a bit 'iffy.'  He said my teeth were clean enough with no tartar that warranted a cleaning (thank you Sonicare!), so off I went.  At first, while walking home, I was tickled that the appointment didn't take that long.  But, the more I thought about it, the more I realized just how indicative this appointment must be to the general attitude of the Brits to their teeth; case in point:  in September, Simon finally broke down & went to the dentist for the first time in 3 years!  I'm pretty sure the only reason he went was to get me off his back.  And, here I am worried that it's been a year.  hm.

I can't remember a time that I was in & out of a dentist's office in less than an hour-and I certainly can't remember a time while I was there for a checkup that a cleaning wasn't almost manditory.  But, with my dental professional's almost chill attitude about my teeth, now I understand why toothcare seems to be such a low priority for most Brits.  Yes, I realize I'm stereotyping a bit, and on some level, the flip-side of all of this is that perhaps we Americans are a bit *too* obsessed with our teeth, but as I personally plan to take my one and only set of adult teeth to the grave with me, I can't imagine being any other way.

Glad this mystery has finally been solved!

Catching Up

I have been absolutely horrible about blogging lately (barring the post I just put up entitled Bite Me RMT).  I've been working my fool arse off too much during the week, and the weekends have been jam packed-largely in trying to catch up from things I can't get around to during the week, wedding crap, and then we were gone to the US for a week to take care of aforementioned wedding crap, and then Simon's sister was in town this past weekend.  Whew.  Needless to say, the to-do list is long, and there's a lot to do, but I'm pretty stoked at the relative peace this weekend will bring.  Largely because as I look out over the next 8 weekends, we're gone or just plain busy for most of them.  Double whew.

On some level, due to how busy we've been, there isn't much interesting stuff to catch up on.  But, anyhoo, there are a few bits to catch up on.

In mid-August, I finally got to go to my first cricket game.  Day 4 of a 5 day 'test match' between England and Pakistan.  The test match games start at 11am, there's a break in plat at 1am for lunch (seriously), and a break in play again at 4p for tea (SERIOUSLY).  I've tried for ages to get into it when watching it on TV, but haven't, and feared I'd be bored to tears for this game (up to 7 hours of play too-a long time to be bored...).  But instead, I LOVED IT!  The first hour was a bit boring, as my biggest problem all along is that I struggle to understand the game.  So, I went for a stroll around the Oval to see what there was to see, buy a beer and a T-shirt, and then went back to my seat.  Well, I don't know if it was the beer, or the play, but I suddenly started to figure out the game-and once I did-bam.  Loved it.  Like, have already asked Simon when we can go see another game loved it.  Go figure!

We were in Portland for the last week of August to take care of wedding crap, pick up the engagement ring (yay!), and several friends from Seattle came down for the weekend to hang out.  It was a busy, but great trip back-and as this will very likely be the last trip back to the Pac NW until the wedding in April, a bit bittersweet.  All good, though, and it really was fantastic to see friends.

Two friends are pregnant (and will have given birth by the wedding), and I finally got to meet the boy of one friend -he's 4 months now.  It dawned on me on this trip that Simon & I, are currently (and forever, for that matter...) just about the only childless couple of ALL of our friends. Wow.  Most of the kids are under the age of 4-and they're all under the age of 6.

Unfortunately, my camera battery died after just a few pictures there (stupid me for not charging before we left...), that I don't have anything to really show for the trip.

Other than that, the only other 'happening' was that I *finally* went to see my first BBC Prom this past week.  'Prom' here refers to a series of classical musical shows, though they have expanded into other musical genres the past few years.  The Proms are at the Royal Albert Hall-very convenient to us-and this past Wednesday, we went to see on of those 'other musical genres'-the Penguin Cafe Orchestra.  They were amazing.  Simon's bene a fan for years, and introduced me to their music, which as it turns out , I know-but didn't know I knew. :)   Simon's best friend Herbie was actually the one that organized the group, so Herbie, Simon, Noonie (another friend of theirs) & I went.  It was fantastic.  GREAT seats-box seats, my first time, and dirt cheap at 15 quid (as they're subsidized heavily by the BBC); GREAT music, and we were home in 20 minutes.  Which is good, as it was late-starting show, and we didn't get out until 11.30pm!

The Proms run thru the summer and the last concert is actually this weekend.  But, I'm already thinking that I'll be going back next year-it's just a matter of for what!

World Cup Fever

It would be border-line irresponsible of me if I didn't post at least once about the World Cup while living in London, wouldn't it?
For anyone who has been living under a rock or in a cave for the past week-or, outside of the UK from the looks of the US newspapers I've been reading online-England is in the throes of World Cup Fever. Has been for several weeks now, even though the official games just kicked off (no pun intended) a week ago.  I'll refrain from any game by game commentary-that's already been covered 7,000 ways to Sunday by everyone else, I'm sure.  Instead, just a few general observations about the differences between World Cup in England versus World Cup in the US.

• Life as we know it grinds to a halt on the days that England plays.  Yesterday evening (6pm), I was one of 15 people in my gym (only 2 men, both of which were trainers, and simply had to be there)-a time & day in which it's normally packed.  Why?  England played at 7.30pm. 
• Want to go to your local and have a pint?  Better not on game day.  Especially if said local has a TV.  You're better off to stay at home, as it will be too crowded, noisy, and drunk.
• A good England fan is delirious with excitement leading up to an England game.  And, then quickly starts to bash the team during a game, the minute something goes wrong.  By the end of the game, a good England fan will be downright despondent at having ever thought England could win anything-nevermind tie a team that truthfully they should have crushed-and are basically ready to dis-avow God and Country.
• The tube stations become fully staffed with British Police.  In the US, on a major sporting day, we'd see extra cops on the roads to stop drunk drivers.  In London at least, there are extra cops in the tube stations.
• In the US, as a female, I never thought that anyone (men) was surprised when a female had an intelligent observation to make about a sporting event.  Here, if a female makes an intelligent observation about a sporting event, men treat it as a sign of the second coming-the shocked look on thier faces says it all.  Loves it.
• I've had more people than I can count ask me if I was pulling for the US or England-particularly during the US/England match last week.  I never once entertained the thought of pulling for anyone other than the US, and can't help but wonder if an expat living in the US would have ever been asked that same question (regardless of their country of origin). 
• There's just no escaping World Cup Fever.  It's everywhere here:  tv, radio, print, references on tv shows, the Top 20 chart is populated with 'England Fooball' type songs, and even if you're a brand that would never before have associated yourselves with Football (food, beverage, cars, finances, you name it..), suddenly you're mentioning 'England World Cup' in your advertising.  Even as recent as 3 days before the US/England match last week, I struggled to even find one US newspaper (well, online...) in which World Cup was even the front-page story.

I'm sure there are dozens more differences between what's going on with World Cup here in England versus the US, but those are the ones that come to mind off the top of my head.

Anyone else have an observation they'd like to share?  Drop a comment!

NHS: Scarier than a 3rd World Clinic

I'm still trying to catch up on a few posts after being off the grid for several weeks, but as the trauma from my most recent experience with the NHS is so fresh, I wanted to get this down now.

Gents...you may want to *stop* reading here.  This is about to become TMI (too much information).  Ladies...well, if any of you have plans for your first 'smear test' in the UK any time soon.  I'm sorry for the fear I'm about to strike in you!

I've touted the good of the NHS on more than on occasion, but my 'smear test' (pap smear) with the local Well Woman's clinic yesterday has made me re-think this whole stance

The clinic I set my appointment up with isn't my regular GP.  If your GP isn't 'equipped' to do these tests, you can easily be referred to other clinics in the area that are. OK.  Nice.  I picked a clinic that was about 10 minutes away from the flat and booked my appointment.  It wasn't until yesterday however, that I looked at Google maps to realize that the Clinic is actually located on what is known as a Council Estate.  Think  "Section 8" housing.  High rise flats for low income/support income families.  I don't mean to bash the concept of low income/support income....merely painting the picture.

After my intake meeting with the nurse, to go over basic paperwork, I return to the lobby to wait for the Doctor (I use this term loosely.  I truly don't even know if the person that did my exam was a doctor!...) to call me.  While sitting there, I noticed another couple in chairs.  How can I say this delicately?...They looked and acted as if they were coming down off a week-long binge-and I don't mean of the booze kind...  OK.

Eventually I was called into the doctors office/exam room.  I have noticed it is common here for doctors to have their offices/exam rooms combined, so I didn't think anything of it.  Silly me.  After a quick 30 second chat, she said, 'Ok.  Take off your bottoms & hop up on the table.'  I presumed she'd step out for a moment, so I paused.  She didn't move.  OK...
So, my 'bottoms' come off, and I hop up on the table-first noticing that I'm too short to hop up directly on the middle paper strip over the table.  So, theoretically, my bare-ass is supposed to hit the table, and then I'm to scoot onto the paper.  I decided to pull the paper over to the side of the table, but I wonder how many bare asses have hit the table (literally!), without doing this.  OK...
While hoping up on said table, I also happened to notice that there are no stirrups at the end of the table.   Odd, I think.  She's going to pull these out after I'm already up here?  OK...
Silly me.  There are NO stirrups.  She tells me to simply lie back, bend my knees, and 'open your legs and scoot my ankles as close to me as I can.' OOOK...

I then proceed to have a pap exam with the examiner literally bending over my leg-my knee was in her armpit the entire time.  Never mind the awkardness of what is already a very unpleasant experience, I've now got her pit on me, and the angle of my pelvis from just lying on the table with my 'ankles as close to me...' as they are...it is not a comfortable position to be in for this type of thing.

Once the actual smear was done, that was it.  No manual exam.  No breast exam.  No nothing.  OK.

Oh, and the UK NHS will only allow the test once every years if you're normal.  That's it.  A slap-dash test, in a place that makes me believe I'm getting the exam in a 3rd world clinic, and I'm only supposed to have this done once every three years?!?  Part of me is thankful-I don't look forward to repeating this trauma any time soon, but this entire test just screams "ineffective."

Ladies, I don't know if this is a typical experience here in the UK, but it was such a shocking experience, I had to make note of it.  Never in my life did I think I'd look forward to a Pap smear in the US, but after yesterday, I can say with certainty that I will most definitely-and happily-have my next Pap in the US. Yikes.

We're In! Hello Fat Duck.

This somewhat takes the sting of T'giving away... ;)

After talking about it for over a year, and actively trying to get a reservation for weeks now, we're booked for a meal at Fat Duck!

This is no easy feat: they only accept reservations 2 months in advance-to the date. And, as they book up usually the first 20 minutes of the day their phones are open at 10am, if you're not on the line at 9.59.59 am, you're usually out of luck.

I've tried for some time to no avail-and finally today, at 10.00.05 am, I got thru-and got a table! Oh, happy day. I wonder if it will be crass to take my camera and take pictures of everything?...

Simon's Birthday is Feb 2, so I've booked a Sunday lunch for January 31. I've decided to make an entire weekend out of the meal, but Simon only knows about Fat Duck (though, as I know he reads my blog from time to time, the secret probably won't last for long...). They're located in this adorable 'village' called Bray-about a 40 minute train ride out of London. I've booked a cute B&B for Saturday and dinner at The Hinds Head (the gastropub owned by the same chef as Fat Duck) for Saturday nite.

The tasting menu at Fat Duck is around £150/person, so it goes without saying that the cost of this weekend will basically be our entire entertainment budget for a good chunk of January! But, I'm so darned excited (chuffed as the Brits would say), I can't wait!

Turkey, schmurkey.

A Week of Firsts!

Oh happy day.

Yesterday, Sunday, March 15 marked the first day in over 5 months in which I got to putter around London without being swathed in a coat and scarf. Yea mobility! What a glorious day it was.

Oh (I say casually, like it isn't important...), and yesterday also commerates my first anniversary with Simon. One year-hopefully of many to come.

Also, T-minus 4 days and counting to Simon & I moving in together. Another first!

The NHS: Ultra Progressive or Third World Country-Like?

Finally, after almost a year here, I had my first 'real' interaction with the NHS today. The NHS is the UK's privatized health care system (National Health Service to be exact), and up until now, I had only been to my doctor's office twice: once to 'register' with them, and once to get travel meds for my trip to the Dominican in October. Now, I know many people could write reams on what is broken about the US system. I don't disagree with that-and that's not the point of my post. But, what happened today was certainly worth mentioning-at least in my book...

Long story short, I had to pop up to the local hospital today for an X-Ray, and then go have some blood drawn (Settle down-it's nothing major. Just some hip-joint pain, and my GP wants to rule out any type of bone problems...). Anyhoo...how this all worked today is both pretty cool-and alarmingly dated.

With my X-Ray referral in hand from my GP, all I had to do was go to the hospital (no x-ray capability in the doc's office..), with my form and they worked me in for the day. No appointment, no nothing. First come, first served. And, as I arrived there right when they opened up this morning, there was also no queue. I was in and out in 15 minutes; it took me longer to walk there and back then the actual appointment itself. Yea. That's the progressive part.

Here comes the scary part...

A few hours later, I went to my GPs office to have some blood drawn. How do I put this delicately?...I don't want to imply that the 'US IS BEST' by what I'm about to say, but it certainly can't be too far from the truth: My arm didn't get swabbed with anti-bacterial anything, and the lady who took the blood?...DIDN'T EVEN WEAR GLOVES!!!!

I was so taken aback, that I actually stopped her and asked: why aren't you cleaning my arm? In the US, I would get swabbed before getting stuck. Hint. Hint. Her reply was that, since she pokes my arm after swabbing (with her finger to find a vein), she continues to transfer germs (um. well, the gloves would certainly take care of that problem!!!), and she would also have to wait until the wetness dries to be effective-otherwise, it's just useless (and can actually sting a bit when putting the needle in you). Her words, not mine. I couldn't help but think: well then, WAIT. An extra minute won't kill *you*, and newsflash: I've got a needle going in my arm. I'll never be able to tell if the pain is from then needle or the antiseptic.

Wow. Now, I certainly can't comment as to whether or not my experience today with the phlebotomist is the NHS standard, or if it's simply her way of doing things. So, I'm trying not to indict the entire NHS for this one experience. But, after coming from a health system where, I wouldn't be surprised to see receptionists wearing surgical gloves at some point in the near future, it did at least make me take note of the experience.