Why Blog?

I initially started this blog on a slow day at work (did I say that out loud?)… I was bored and had been talking to a friend who blogged and thought “Why not?  I'm sure I can do that.”  Pretty much anyone I moaned to was fed up listening to my reminisces, memories and comparisons of England, so this was the ideal outlet for my “creative juices” or “moody cow whining” however you want to look at it. But some of the best things have happened because of this blog:

Reconnecting

I have been able to reconnect with people I haven’t seen for over 30 years (Good grief, has it been 30 years!) Although this isn’t technically true in all senses of the word as Facebook has played a part too, I was recently chatting with an old friend via Facebook and he mentioned his brother also lives in California and he would be visiting and would I like to meet up.  Well, of course I bloody would.  

The day came and he gave me a ring to arrange to meet.  I was totally taken aback when he said he would come to my house – I’m so used to the American culture of always meeting for dinner, lunch or the like and really never going to someone’s house.  Obviously right then the conversation went typically British.  “Oh” I said, “You’ll have to excuse the state of the house, we’ve just got a new puppy and it’s a bit of a mess.”   To which he replied “Don’t be silly, we’re coming to see you, not the house.”   How refreshingly polite.

Obviously, I rushed home and tidied up, as you do, and put the kettle on.  The visit was brilliant, even more so when he presented me with this little lot

So, thank you Mr. G.  Hope to see you again sometime soon.

New Friends

I saw a quote on Twitter the other day which said:

“Facebook makes you hate people you already know and

   Twitter makes you love people you’ll never meet.”

@SwedishCanary

That is exactly what this blog has done (well, not the Facebook hating thing).  I have met (virtually) so many people through this blog and Twitter [and if you are one of them, a big hello].  I have also realized how many expats out there are having the same issues, experiences and fun as I am.   

Goodies

This has only happened once (so far) [*hint, hint*] and it was bloody brilliant.

As the Hershey’s debacle was in full swing, a couple of start up companies contacted me to review their service.  I was asked by ChocolateMailBox.com to take a look at what they are offering and they sent me a lovely box full of Cadbury’s.  My post about that is HERE.

So if there’s anyone else out there who is just dying to send me stuff – go ahead [*smile*] – Yes, I am being cheeky.

British Telly

I was contacted by the BBC, yes the real Aunty Beeb, to participate in a telly programme pitting expats and their families at home against other expats and home families.  While this sounded like an absolutely fantastic idea that I would jump at, I missed the deadline (mainly due to the time difference of emails, etc) so I am a bit gutted.  

Hopefully, they will have a second season and I will definitely be there, with bells on!

I’m not in any way saying, though, that this blogging malarkey is easy.  Sometimes I just sit here and stare at my computer with vacant eyes and an empty head not knowing  what to say.  But apparently, my brain kicks into gear every now and again and here we are…

Things I do that Amuse and Bemuse Americans

Shaking the Milk

I grew up having the milkman deliver milk, in glass bottles, to the doorstep – sometimes before we even woke up.   And I remember sometimes getting home from work and finding the milk still on the doorstep and almost gone off because it had been sitting in the sun all day (well, kind of – it was England, after all).  But the best bit of the milk, was the thick glob of cream at the top of every bottle.  Which meant you had to shake the bottle to mix it up before you used it.  Even when it was already open, you had to take it out of the fridge and give it a shake before you topped up your tea because the cream always rises, as they say.

This is one of the things I cannot stop doing.  I’ve had many a strange look when I take the humongously massive plastic bottle out of the fridge and shake it up and down before making a cuppa.  Nobody does that here, and its probably due to the fact that the milk isn’t creamy at all.  There’s even a 2% - what does that even mean?  Having tried some of it, I think it’s 2% milk and 98% water.  Oh, and it lasts forever - you can keep in in the fridge for weeks, and it's still okay.  Try that in England and it will probably walk out the fridge on its own.

  

Not Leaving the Tea Bag in the Cup

Not sealed at all

Can anything be worse than trying to drink a cup of tea and having the teabag hitting you in the face with every sip? 

I see my American co-workers drinking tea and leaving the little tag hanging over the edge of the cup all the time and I've been asked why I don't leave my bag in there.  They say it should be left in the cup so your tea gets stronger as you drink it.  This is a bit of a misnomer as American tea never gets strong enough.  

And I have found out, much to my chagrin, that the more you dunk the bag, the more tea leaves fall out and you end up with a leafy mess.  It’s not surprising really, as the bags are only clipped and folded at one end and not sealed like they are in England.  It's just asking for trouble, if you ask me!

Milk in Tea

On the same note, people are often fascinated that I actually do put milk in my tea.  

In every restaurant I’ve ever been in you must ask for “hot” tea otherwise you will end up with iced tea.  You will get hot water, a (weak) teabag, a bottle of honey and some lemon slices.   If you don’t specifically ask for milk (which you have to remember to call “creamer”) that’s all you get.

There’s a small café/restaurant near my house that I’ve been to quite a few times and when I ask for tea there, the waitress says “Oh yes, English tea…. With creamer.”  Well, at least they’re learning! (But then again, have you ever tasted tea with fake creamer... bleh).

Not Liking Cinnamon

Now, I’m not saying I don’t like cinnamon at all, I mean, when I was at school we would make a fruit salad in home economics and put a cinnamon stick in the juice to give it a little flavour… but you would take it out before you poured it all over the fruit.  Subtlety was the key.

Ewww

Not so in America.  There seems to be cinnamon in absolutely bloody everything and it’s not just a pinch here and there, it’s a dessert spoonful, or more!   There are even fast food places that are dedicated to it for goodness sake.  Cinnabon sells only cinnamon rolls and when I walk past in the mall I have to hold my breath.  I don’t understand the fascination with one particular spice, but I’m told that I’m weird because I don’t like it.  I think I should just say I’m deathly allergic to it.

Mom/Mum

My "Mom" face!

I can’t say mom…. Yep, you read that right – I cannot say M.O.M.  (and I know you all just said it to yourselves, didn’t you?)  

It’s not  that I often use the word, I much prefer mum (obviously) but someone asked me the other day to pronounce it and I just couldn’t.  It actually hurts my mouth when you have to try to enunciate the ‘o’ rather than the ‘u’ and then I feel like I’m making a strange contorted kind of face and my tongue aches right at the back.  

Yes, I apparently am weird.

Birthday Celebrations

Today is my birthday (my 20th birthday celebrated in the good ole USofA) and it made me think about what I miss from working in England. 

Buying doughnuts for everyone in the office  

I don’t know if this still happens, but when I was working in England, if it was your birthday, YOU were the one who had to buy the cakes for the office.  I don’t know why this was or who decided it was a thing, but it definitely made sure you got a cake – usually lovely real cream doughnuts.  Could get a bit expensive though, depending on the size of the office.  (I don't miss having to buy the doughnuts, but I do miss the actual doughnuts).

Drooling.....I miss real cream

Alcohol related presents

To be honest, this does happen here too (to me anyway, I wonder if they are trying to tell me something). The only difference is it’s not acceptable to have a glass of wine/vodka/rum on your tea break in America.  This is merely a technicality though, because there is no such thing as a ‘tea break’ in the USA.  I think I just found a loophole

Drinking at lunchtime

If you worked in town, there was usually a pub or wine bar less than a stone’s throw from the office so if there was a birthday, it was guaranteed that the office would be there at lunchtime, possibly a little longer than a usual lunch though.  Food was not involved.

Drinking after work

Once you had stumbled your inebriated self through the afternoon, hopefully not making too many mistakes, it was back off to the pub for an after work drinkie, which invariably lasted into the late evening even though you were “only staying for one.”

You can get home

Even if you are six sheets to the wind, you can get home.  Public transport is there to take care of you. Once you’ve found the right bus stop, you’re all set.  You just have to make sure you get on the right bus and it will drop you off close enough to your house so you can crawl on your hands and knees to the front door.  I am not saying I’ve ever done this, of course, but you could if you needed to.  [*cough, cough*]

Not so in America.  The lack of public transportation puts a damper on any after work frivolity because you need to stay sober so you can drive home.  Party pooper…

So yes, it’s my birthday, I didn’t get a real cream doughnut, I won’t be having a liquid lunch and I won’t be going to the pub after work.  But then again, I’m not a teenager any more and I’m sure if I did,  I would need tomorrow off work …..

But be sure, I will be celebrating.  And as the Irish say:

“It is better to spend money like there's no tomorrow

than to spend tonight like there's no money.”

English Stadium Etiquette (It's Not the same in the USA)

Last Thursday night, the mister and myself went to the Hollywood Bowl to see the brilliant Ed Sheeran. You have to, after all, support all British people/bands/acts/teams/companies that pass through Hollywood, don't you? [Okay, that's probably going a bit far]. Nevertheless, we crawled out to Los Angeles in rush hour traffic (2.5 hours, thank you very much) and it was really worth it. See....

The Hollywood Bowl is an outdoor venue with tiered seating.  A little bit like a football stadium, if you will.  Which is where it got a bit tricky.

If you've read a lot of this blog, you will know I spent much of my (mis-spent) youth at football games.  You pay a lot of money to get into those games and when you can't see the pitch because someone's standing up in front, a collective shout of "Sit Down" goes up.  Only it's not a polite Sit Down, it's more of a "SIIIIDDDDDDDAAARRRNN" sometimes followed by "You make a better door than a window mate."  Oh those days..

There I was, having stood in line for about 35 minutes for popcorn, of all things, when Mr. Sheeran came onto the stage.  Up went the cheers as I raced back to my seat.  Everyone around was sitting waiting for the first song - except for two bloody girls about three seats in front of us.  Well, of course I automatically shouted "SIIIIDDDDDDDAAARRRNN" and when they didn't, I shouted it again.  The Mister looked at me and mouthed "sit down?" with an incredulous look on his face and the lady next to me tried to hide under her seat and get as far away from me as possible (sorry stranger lady, if you're reading this).

It was so automatic I didn't realize what I'd done for a moment and then it dawned on me.  Oopsie, one is not at a football game, one better sit down and shut up.  [*sheepish grin*]  I didn't think those girls had heard me, but you know what, they didn't stand up again for the rest of the evening. (Score!)

I thought it was the English who were reluctant to show their disapproval and I couldn't believe all these people were sitting looking at other people's bums without saying anything or asking them to move.  Rude!

Here's a bit more of the show

The Sad Story of American Healthcare

About a month ago I had a little motorbike accident (ok, it felt like a pretty big motorbike accident when I hit gravel and went down at 65 mph).  Anyway, I ended up in the Emergency Room with a massive (I thought so) cut on my leg and I had x-rays of my legs and wrist done.  I wasn’t taken by ambulance as it wasn’t really that bad, although it felt so at the time.

Waaa... I broke my bike

And my helmet... [*sad face*]

A couple of days ago I received a bill in the post from the “Emergency Physicians” asking me to pay $800+.  I was a bit surprised at this because I have health insurance and I had given them my information when I was at the hospital.  They weren’t very polite on this bill either, I was told that I must pay the balance by June 18th or the bill “would be deemed delinquent and assigned to a collection agency.”  Bloody hell, I though, I better give them a ring and find out what’s going on.

So today, I rang them and after having being on hold for about 20 minutes, this conversation ensued after I had given them my date of birth, my account number, my home address, my first born….:

     Me:        I don’t understand why I got this bill, I have insurance and I gave the information to the hospital

     Them:   We show this was as a result of a motor vee-hick-al accident

     Me:    Yes, it was

     Them:    We need the information for the other driver’s insurance

     Me:    There wasn’t one, I was on a bike.  

     Them:    So there is no health coverage from a third party?

     Me:     No, but I gave my health insurance card at the hospital

     Them:    Oh yes, we have the information on file, I will process it now.  You can disregard this statement and if you get anything else in the mail, please call us back.

     Me:    Ummm… okay  [actually thinking what the heck?]

My question is, why did they not use my health insurance first?  This is the whole problem with the American healthcare system.  People are so quick to sue each other your insurance company would rather get the money directly from someone else, instead of using your own insurance (which you pay a mighty amount for every month, by the way) and then threaten to send you to collections if you don’t pay the bill, which you shouldn’t have got in the first place because you have health insurance…. It’s an endless bloody circle.  

Shouldn’t they have used my insurance first and, assuming someone else was actually to blame, then attempted to get a refund from them?  Why should I be threatened with collections when I pay a bloody fortune every month in case I need a doctor?

Yes, this makes me mad…

Okay, rant over.

Update:

I have been told they try and get paid by other insurance first because if they use your health insurance, they will have to give a discount, but if someone else pays, they can get their whole extortionate amount.  I'm still mad.

Persil has Arrived in America (and it's driving me nuts)

It always excites me when something from home arrives in American shops.  (Apparently it doesn't take much to get me excited)

Just recently there's been a new advert on the telly for Persil ProClean and it's driving me bloody mad.  Every time I hear it, I cringe and get a little bit mad.  Why, you ask?  Well just take a look at this ....

Did you hear it?  Do you see what I mean?  No, then take another listen.  The way they pronounce Persil as Pu-SEEL drives me nuts.  I know, its only a little thing, but even so.  PER-SIL, it's Per-sil. Arghhh.  (and don't even get me started on the pronunciation of Adidas).

I wish someone at Persil would tell them how to say it, after all they've been making washing powder for over 100 years, so someone there should know, shouldn't they?

I was going to try and find the English version of the advert, but I found this instead and it's just so lovely - 100 Years of Persil, What is a Mum?

Is that little Ron Weasley in the go kart?  I think the skinhead one was one of my favourite adverts growing up.

I honestly don't think the American pronunciation is going to change so I will have to make do muting the telly or just shouting "IT'S PER-SIL!!" at the screen every time I see the advert.

Is there any American pronunciation that get's your blood boiling?  Do tell...

Bank Holiday USA

This last weekend was a Bank Holiday in America, although it’s not actually called a ‘Bank” holiday, just a holiday.  It’s important to know that a holiday weekend is just one day off, it’s not a holiday as we know it because there’s no such thing as a holiday in America, that would be a vacation.  Also, Christmas is called “the Holidays.” Confused yet? [*frown*].  Oh and if the ‘holiday’ falls on a Saturday or Sunday, then you don’t get a day off in lieu like we do in England.  Unfortunately, this year July 4th is on a Saturday, so we won’t get an extra day off.

Anyway, back to last weekend.  It was Memorial Day which is a Federal holiday to remember the people who died while serving in the country's armed forces – a bit like poppy day, if you will, only there are no poppy sellers on each corner (which I miss actually).

Memorial Day is also the official start of summer so the roads are typically packed with people trying to leave for a short getaway.  (A bit like trying to get to Margate on a bank holiday weekend).

This year, the weather was a bit crap and overcast (just like England) so we didn’t really do much until Monday, when the sun came out a bit. [Yes, I really do live in California, honestly]  First off a little car trip up the coast to a famous restaurant, Neptune’s Net.  Well, I think it’s famous, the amount of people there certainly led me to believe that it is.  Packed, it was.  We did manage to get a table eventually and sat down to this wonderful plate of spicy, peel your own shrimp.  

Yummy

Very yummy.   A lady sitting near us decided she couldn’t manage to drink her whole bottle of wine and offered me a glass, (a plastic cup actually) and who was I to say no?  Topped of the meal nicely, thank you very much!

A bit nippy

Party Poopers

We spent a little while watching the surfers freeze their bums off and soaking up a tiny bit of sun, which had decided to come out for a little while, then it was off down the coast to Venice Beach.

I’m not really sure what I can say about Venice Beach!  Some people call Los Angeles LaLaLand and I think Venice Beach is the reason why.  In fact, there’s even a sign to say so.

Definately LaLa Land

The very best of everything crazy can be found at Venice Beach.  The boardwalk (although there are no boards, but you do have to walk) is chocablock with “artists” selling their crazy inventions, artwork and knicknacks.  There are bands playing (sometimes out of tune), drum solos can be heard, an old Indian man on Rollerblades playing the electric guitar is always there.  [No pictures please, without paying, of course].  The sights, sounds and smells (burgers, pizza, patchouli and/or possibly marijuana) make it all a bit surreal.

Busy Boardwalk

Welcome to Venice

No trip is complete without stopping at the Freakshow – yes, they have a real freakshow (obviously). I’ve never been inside, but you get the gist of what you would be seeing as most of the time one or two of the “freaks” are hanging around outside tempting you in.  There’s the bearded lady and the wolf boy (very hairy he is). There’s a two headed terrapin and then there’s this man….

I have no words

You think you’ve seen it all, until you walk to the end and reach the famous “muscle beach” where men and women alike strut and puff their muscles. This day there was some sort of competition going on.  Competitors young and (very) old were strutting, preening and displaying their muscles in bodies that had so much fake tan, I was worried California was going to run out of the stuff.  This one even looked like he had used wood stain he was so dark...

That's a LOT of fake tan

   

  

You can only watch these shenanigans for so long, so we had an ice cream and went home.   All this, and not a bloody stick of rock in sight!  

Oh Brighton, how I miss you (okay, not really).