As a result of my insane insecurity and constant craving for accolades, I've decided to write about our decision to move the whole family to Germany. I did this when I decided to move my family to England a few years ago too, and man was it a hit with my mother (and nauseating for my sister).
I guess I'm a little behind since we're already at the point where know we are moving, so I'll summarize how this went down.
I was having a very Bi-polar day at work and overheard somebody like three cubes down talking about Germany, so I eavesdropped on the conversation. Like most people who have been there, this guy had raving reviews and swore that if he ever had the opportunity to get a job there, he would jump at it. Later that day I mentioned it to another friend who said the same thing. Because I have the personality of an eight year old I thought to myself "all these people keep trying to get jobs in Germany, but can't, I have to see if I can land one, just to see if I can".
Stupid I know, but I decided to float my resume on some sites anyway just to see what's out there. Apparently, either my luck is uncanny or God has a reason he wants me in Germany, because I put my resume in on the first position I found online, went to lunch, and when I came back I had an email with the subject "Your resume submission, can we talk". I instantly got that feeling in my stomach, because I knew, just like with the England job I took, this just felt funny.
Long story short (shorter), the position sounds great, so I tell Jaime we're moving to Germany, pack your bags. Just like she did when I dropped the news about England on her, she paused the Ghost Whisperer, looked up and said "no we're not, you're too chicken", then un-paused the Ghost Whisperer and I turned around and left the room. Of course at this point, I wasn't really going to take the job. I mean, I've got a good job in Tampa, good friends, good Church, instant babysitters (parents) nearby, leaving would be moronic. BUT, she called me chicken, so I accepted the job, just for general principal.
At the point the only thing I know about Germany is that the word for bra is NOT stopemfromfloppin and the first thing that comes to my mind when somebody mentions a German word is this guy:
The good news is that I hate cold weather, cream sauce, sausage, dark beer, and men in shorts with suspenders, so this ought to work out well for me.
I don't know what Jaime told the kids to get them on board with this, but Reed thinks it rains chocolate there and Mason thinks there's gonna be a ski lift straight to our front door, but hey, who am I to shatter their dreams.
The hardest part is going to be for Jaime, because everytime I start to read off place names from the map, she just starts busting out laughing. I'm like "Jai, you can't just start laughing at these people when they say things like Boobliken and bahahahaha" yeah, I couldn't even finish the sentence, we need to work on the language difference.
To read them in order you have to read from the bottom up. I know you know this.
Monday, July 24, 2028
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Ahhh wee wee
Our second weekend in Europe and we still had the rental car, so we decided to actually act on what we've been spouting the last few months, strolling over to France for a lunch. I'm about as cultured as two day old cheese, so what I know of France is mostly what I've seen on Fox news (which isn't nice), what my mom has told me from her trips, and what I saw in my French text books in high school. Jaime on the other hand is an expert. She has seen every romantic comedy ever released and is fully convinced that as soon as we cross the border we will have to turn on the windshield wipers to fend off the falling rose pedals. I would say that all in all it was a good experience.
Most of what you hear is true; they aren't the cleanest people; The rest area we stopped at was nasty, I mean disgusting; they poop in the woods and just leave the toilet paper and crap on the ground. With that said the cities we drove through were absolutely beautiful. I see why every oil painting looks the same, because the towns actually look like that. We were going through one small town and I pulled over on the sidewalk (because you can do that in Europe) to get out and take some photos and when I get back to the car, I see Reed standing beside the car, taking a leak on the sidewalk. My first reaction was "J, are you crazy, they are going to kill us", then I thought about it for a second and realized that this was France and they are not capable of killing us and secondly, this was France and they are used to this type of stuff, so I said "Ahhh wee wee mon petite bambino, stick it to the Frenchmen (in my best Pepe' LaPue voice).
Following the GPS, I just put in some coordinates I pulled off google, so we didn't really have a destination in mind, so we just headed downtown and drove around. Driving in a metropolitan European city is very different than DC or NYC, both of which I've driven in a few times. There are people on bicycles everywhere and people walking everywhere, so you have to pay attention, which is tough with a dog in your lap, two kids yelling "we're hungry" and a wife saying "oh look at that". Eventually, we found a spot to park and got out to walk around. Contrary to what I've heard the people were very friendly and were very willing to speak with me in my broken French. Much more friendly than the Germans have been, that's for sure.
All in all, it was a good day, nice weather and no problems to report.
Most of what you hear is true; they aren't the cleanest people; The rest area we stopped at was nasty, I mean disgusting; they poop in the woods and just leave the toilet paper and crap on the ground. With that said the cities we drove through were absolutely beautiful. I see why every oil painting looks the same, because the towns actually look like that. We were going through one small town and I pulled over on the sidewalk (because you can do that in Europe) to get out and take some photos and when I get back to the car, I see Reed standing beside the car, taking a leak on the sidewalk. My first reaction was "J, are you crazy, they are going to kill us", then I thought about it for a second and realized that this was France and they are not capable of killing us and secondly, this was France and they are used to this type of stuff, so I said "Ahhh wee wee mon petite bambino, stick it to the Frenchmen (in my best Pepe' LaPue voice).
Following the GPS, I just put in some coordinates I pulled off google, so we didn't really have a destination in mind, so we just headed downtown and drove around. Driving in a metropolitan European city is very different than DC or NYC, both of which I've driven in a few times. There are people on bicycles everywhere and people walking everywhere, so you have to pay attention, which is tough with a dog in your lap, two kids yelling "we're hungry" and a wife saying "oh look at that". Eventually, we found a spot to park and got out to walk around. Contrary to what I've heard the people were very friendly and were very willing to speak with me in my broken French. Much more friendly than the Germans have been, that's for sure.
All in all, it was a good day, nice weather and no problems to report.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Stuff Dreams Are Made Of
Well, our grandiose plan to jaunt off to some quaint little Austrian
village this weekend was pummeled like a peasant under the fall of a
trebuchet round. Instead of learning to widdle my own cuckoo clock, I
was standing in line with customer service for two hours trying to get
Jaime's cell phone squared away. Why Saturday at 11am you ask? Well,
that's the only time the manager could meet with me. What's great about
Germany, is also what really sucks about Germany, they are straight
forward, what they say is what they mean; no wiggle room. I'm on board
with this 99% of the time, but in this situation, I'm not. I signed a 2
year contract with an agreement to pay a discounted rate for the phone,
and pay the bills automatically out of my checking. Good to go, the
store approves me, activates the phone, then I leave. All is well in the
world. The next day the phone stops working. We call customer service
and I go back to the store and after another round of sign language and
charades I'm told that after further review, my bank account was too new
and that they needed some other means to guarantee my payments. They
want 150euros. I said, thanks but I'm not down with that new and
improved plan, so I'll just return the phone and move along. NIEN NIEN
NIEN, DAS IST FORBOTTEN. I'm told and I quote "You sign a contract to
us, you must oblige" to which I, still thinking this will easily be
resolved with a good translator, reply "No, I signed a contract for a
1euro phone and monthly service, not a 150euro phone. Your system
approved me yesterday, so I signed. After the fact you tell me I owe
150euro, that's not happening, here's your phone". They disagree, to
them a contract is a contract. PERIOD. I argue for a few more minutes
then leave and come back the next day. I get a great German girl, who
speaks excellent English and who agrees 100% with me. She calls the
company, argues my case, even calls the President of Media Markt (Like
BestBuy) where I bought the phone, but nobody can convince the T-Mobile
reseller to cancel the contract. That was my Saturday.
On Sunday we went to our new Church, which was good. It was a little bit
of culture shock for us because the preacher, who had been in Asia for
the last 20 years prior to coming to Germany two years ago, didn't speak
in the politically correct manner in which American's are used to. I
came to the realization that American's, stereotypically, are too
sensitive. This is why I say this; The preacher, when talking about a
girl who was getting baptized said to her "you will fit in there (the
box of water), don't worry, you are a little Chinese girl" Jaime and I
looked at each other as if to say without words "whaaaa did he just
say". But we chalked it up to bad hearing. Then later he was asking
newcomers where they were from, which in and of itself was a shock to me
that he would ask newcomers to stand up in front of 300 people, because
I'm about as outgoing as an EMO turtle, these two black girls stood up
and answered Vaingengen (a nearby town), at which time the preacher said
"Vaingengen, I thought you were gonna say something like some
town in Africa or something". At hearing this, Jaime and I ducked,
expecting a 1-800-Ask-Gary begin_of_the_skype_highlighting 1-800-Ask-Gary end_of_the_skype_highlighting banner flying airplane to come flying through
the sanctuary at that very moment. But quite the contrary, the girls
said "yes, well we came from Kenya last year" and everybody reacted as
if it was normal. See, he meant no harm by what he said, he genuinely
meant that he thought that they might be from Africa, because this is an
International Church, and all nationalities attend from everywhere and
on top of that Germans say exactly what they mean, no hidden meanings,
no alterior motives, which is good. I guess I'm just used to the way
American's get their feelings hurt so easily. Imagine an American
hostess telling a patron that they were to fat to sit at that booth;
lawsuit city. Not in Germany, if you ask how the jeans make you look, be
prepared to hear "well they push your fat up over the top in a muffin
like fashion and your butt is too wide for this style".
After leaving church, we made a spur of the moment decision to make the
drive to Ramstien Air Force base. Of course I didn't google it or look
it up, I just started driving, and about 30 minutes into our drive I
turned on the GPS...ARRIVAL TIME TWO HOURS!! It wasn't so bad, the hum
of the car at 105mph put everyone to sleep, and we arrived in 1hr 30min.
Now, if you have any experience with the military, you know that the
Army has the crappiest bases and the Air Force has the best bases, and I
can attest to this as I spent 6 years on an Army post as an Air Force
guy. But I had no idea what was in store for me at Ramstien. Ramstien
is the EUROPEAN hub for the Air Force. All the guys coming to and from
the war stop here. All the Space "A" travel stops here, basically, any
flight in Europe comes through Ramstien. On the Stuttgart Army
barracks we have a little food court with Popeyes, Pizza Hut, and
Charley's. On the other base is a Burger King truck. At
Ramstien.....they do R&R right. They have a Chili's restaurant, and a
Macaroni Grill ON BASE. Then they don't have a BX, they have A MALL.
With a food court that rivals the Brandon Town Center food court,
complete with a Johnny Rocket's. Unfortunately though, even though the
infrastructure is there, the on base food is just not the same as it is
in the states, and I don't know why. It's close, but a little off.
Anyway, this week, we are going to try to get Jaime's phone issue
resolved and check out our first Fest downtown. Maybe we'll get out of
town this weekend, do something exciting? I'll lead my family into some
great adventure that they will undoubtedly write songs about later in
life.
village this weekend was pummeled like a peasant under the fall of a
trebuchet round. Instead of learning to widdle my own cuckoo clock, I
was standing in line with customer service for two hours trying to get
Jaime's cell phone squared away. Why Saturday at 11am you ask? Well,
that's the only time the manager could meet with me. What's great about
Germany, is also what really sucks about Germany, they are straight
forward, what they say is what they mean; no wiggle room. I'm on board
with this 99% of the time, but in this situation, I'm not. I signed a 2
year contract with an agreement to pay a discounted rate for the phone,
and pay the bills automatically out of my checking. Good to go, the
store approves me, activates the phone, then I leave. All is well in the
world. The next day the phone stops working. We call customer service
and I go back to the store and after another round of sign language and
charades I'm told that after further review, my bank account was too new
and that they needed some other means to guarantee my payments. They
want 150euros. I said, thanks but I'm not down with that new and
improved plan, so I'll just return the phone and move along. NIEN NIEN
NIEN, DAS IST FORBOTTEN. I'm told and I quote "You sign a contract to
us, you must oblige" to which I, still thinking this will easily be
resolved with a good translator, reply "No, I signed a contract for a
1euro phone and monthly service, not a 150euro phone. Your system
approved me yesterday, so I signed. After the fact you tell me I owe
150euro, that's not happening, here's your phone". They disagree, to
them a contract is a contract. PERIOD. I argue for a few more minutes
then leave and come back the next day. I get a great German girl, who
speaks excellent English and who agrees 100% with me. She calls the
company, argues my case, even calls the President of Media Markt (Like
BestBuy) where I bought the phone, but nobody can convince the T-Mobile
reseller to cancel the contract. That was my Saturday.
On Sunday we went to our new Church, which was good. It was a little bit
of culture shock for us because the preacher, who had been in Asia for
the last 20 years prior to coming to Germany two years ago, didn't speak
in the politically correct manner in which American's are used to. I
came to the realization that American's, stereotypically, are too
sensitive. This is why I say this; The preacher, when talking about a
girl who was getting baptized said to her "you will fit in there (the
box of water), don't worry, you are a little Chinese girl" Jaime and I
looked at each other as if to say without words "whaaaa did he just
say". But we chalked it up to bad hearing. Then later he was asking
newcomers where they were from, which in and of itself was a shock to me
that he would ask newcomers to stand up in front of 300 people, because
I'm about as outgoing as an EMO turtle, these two black girls stood up
and answered Vaingengen (a nearby town), at which time the preacher said
"Vaingengen, I thought you were gonna say something like some
town in Africa or something". At hearing this, Jaime and I ducked,
expecting a 1-800-Ask-Gary begin_of_the_skype_highlighting 1-800-Ask-Gary end_of_the_skype_highlighting banner flying airplane to come flying through
the sanctuary at that very moment. But quite the contrary, the girls
said "yes, well we came from Kenya last year" and everybody reacted as
if it was normal. See, he meant no harm by what he said, he genuinely
meant that he thought that they might be from Africa, because this is an
International Church, and all nationalities attend from everywhere and
on top of that Germans say exactly what they mean, no hidden meanings,
no alterior motives, which is good. I guess I'm just used to the way
American's get their feelings hurt so easily. Imagine an American
hostess telling a patron that they were to fat to sit at that booth;
lawsuit city. Not in Germany, if you ask how the jeans make you look, be
prepared to hear "well they push your fat up over the top in a muffin
like fashion and your butt is too wide for this style".
After leaving church, we made a spur of the moment decision to make the
drive to Ramstien Air Force base. Of course I didn't google it or look
it up, I just started driving, and about 30 minutes into our drive I
turned on the GPS...ARRIVAL TIME TWO HOURS!! It wasn't so bad, the hum
of the car at 105mph put everyone to sleep, and we arrived in 1hr 30min.
Now, if you have any experience with the military, you know that the
Army has the crappiest bases and the Air Force has the best bases, and I
can attest to this as I spent 6 years on an Army post as an Air Force
guy. But I had no idea what was in store for me at Ramstien. Ramstien
is the EUROPEAN hub for the Air Force. All the guys coming to and from
the war stop here. All the Space "A" travel stops here, basically, any
flight in Europe comes through Ramstien. On the Stuttgart Army
barracks we have a little food court with Popeyes, Pizza Hut, and
Charley's. On the other base is a Burger King truck. At
Ramstien.....they do R&R right. They have a Chili's restaurant, and a
Macaroni Grill ON BASE. Then they don't have a BX, they have A MALL.
With a food court that rivals the Brandon Town Center food court,
complete with a Johnny Rocket's. Unfortunately though, even though the
infrastructure is there, the on base food is just not the same as it is
in the states, and I don't know why. It's close, but a little off.
Anyway, this week, we are going to try to get Jaime's phone issue
resolved and check out our first Fest downtown. Maybe we'll get out of
town this weekend, do something exciting? I'll lead my family into some
great adventure that they will undoubtedly write songs about later in
life.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Pray for outsourcing
On base they sell pretty much everything you need, they even have a cell phone kiosk that translates everything into English and walks you through all the necessary steps to get going, but they charge an arm and a leg for the phones, even with a 2 year contract. I was in one of my "live the German life" moods last night and decided to go to the mall downtown and see what was there. They have this place called Media Markt, which is like a Best Buy, and they had the same monthly plans as they do on base, but supplement their phones dramatically, like 1euro for an iPhone dramatically. It just so happens that Jaime thought she wanted to be cool like the "it" crowd and get an iPhone, so I meandered over to the cell phone area, tossed out the "speakin de dutch" line and waited for the salesman that remembered his English class from high school. After about 2 hours (no exaggeration) of hand signals, facial gestures, and Jaime cutting eyes at me to hurry up, I walk out of there with a 1euro iPhone for Jaime. When we get home, I figure I'll just turn it on and it will be good to go, like my ANDROID phones are. NEGATIVE. One of the things I didn't consider about buying off post is that everything is made for Germans, stupid I know, how dare they not cater to the Americans off base. Anyway, I cannot understand the manual or the onscreen commands and it took a lot of googling and help from a comrade to figure out that you have to have iTunes to activate your iPhone. That in itself makes me want to puke, but even after we finally got it activated, it still didn't work. So now, picture the situation in America, you buy a phone, it doesn't work, and you have to go back to the store to get help. How helpful do you think the sales guy is gonna be AFTER the sale. Now take that and multiply it by 12 and you can imagine the anxiety I had before taking the phone back and trying and trying to explain via broken germish and smoke signals that "the phone is activate, has a number, but cannot get a data signal". It could have been worse, maybe, but he ended up telling me to call customer service. For the first time, I prayed that customer service was in India. I haven't called yet.
We also went to McDonalds for the first time since we've been here, it was not the same. But as a positive, they have HUGE ketchup packets, a far cry from England. All I can say is that one "number niner and pomme frites and die fish sandwhich cost me the equivelent of 22 dollars. Jaime says "you can't think of it that way" and I'm thinking to myself "that's easy for someone who gets paid in Crotmarks not for someone who gets paid in real money" (wow what a stretch).
Getting around is actually pretty easy with the GPS, but today it stopped working and I was totally lost. I took a 30km detour through some small towns to get home today, which was alright I guess. I find it ironic that the lady speaking the street names on my GPS in Florida cannot pronounce Bloomingdale correctly, but her twin sister who speaks the names on my German GPS can pronounce Hauptanskzlotskybonefstrasse perfectly.
I have to admit, my 5 speed Audi A3 rental car sure beats the Chevy malibu you get back in the states.
We also went to McDonalds for the first time since we've been here, it was not the same. But as a positive, they have HUGE ketchup packets, a far cry from England. All I can say is that one "number niner and pomme frites and die fish sandwhich cost me the equivelent of 22 dollars. Jaime says "you can't think of it that way" and I'm thinking to myself "that's easy for someone who gets paid in Crotmarks not for someone who gets paid in real money" (wow what a stretch).
Getting around is actually pretty easy with the GPS, but today it stopped working and I was totally lost. I took a 30km detour through some small towns to get home today, which was alright I guess. I find it ironic that the lady speaking the street names on my GPS in Florida cannot pronounce Bloomingdale correctly, but her twin sister who speaks the names on my German GPS can pronounce Hauptanskzlotskybonefstrasse perfectly.
I have to admit, my 5 speed Audi A3 rental car sure beats the Chevy malibu you get back in the states.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Feet on the ground
We are here. Day one in Germany and so far so good. As soon as we got on our flight, which was mostly Europeans, I was quickly reminded of the differences between "us" and "them". I love Europeans, I mean they are the tree hugging yin to our war mongering yang; The independent, carefree Jekyll to our materialistic, Jones chasing Dr. Hyde. Personal space is something of an American commodity if you've never been out of the states, and I was quickly reminded of this at the boarding gate as a very nice German family descended on my blocked off, marked, and claimed piece of floor real estate near the gate. They obviously didn't understand that my book bag was the east boundary point and the western demarcation line was the dog crate, because they invaded like the Blitzkrieg. Actually, I don't really mind this because they mind their business and it's like this everywhere in Europe, nobody pays attention to you, unlike that huge haired blond lady with spandex that gave Jaime the once over twice at the Golden Corral last week.
The dog park at the Atlanta airport is completely pointless. It's great and all, but pointless. In between flights I decided to take M&M there to stretch his legs, drop a load, and sniff a few butts. When I volunteered to take the dog to the park it was a more selfish decision, not that I really cared about the dogs' well-being, but I didn't want to have to occupy two boys for two hours at nap time; but as far as anyone else knows, it was me being kind. Anyway, the guy in the red jacket pointed me to the dog park "go down to baggage claim, out the doors, walk past the rental car office and hang a right". It took me 20 minutes to get to the dog park, which was outside security, outside the airport, and outside the Atlanta City Limits I think. Between the drugs and the fact that he had been in the bag the last 3 hours, when I took him out, he looked like a drunk guy trying to cross 301 at 2am to get to 7-eleven. He sort of staggered sideways, fell down, then got back up. Staggered some more, then finally after about 15 minutes he got his legs back just in time for me to shove him back in the bag. He did not pee, poop, run, or stretch. On the way back to the international terminal (furthest terminal from entrance), I got to experience the joys of security again, this time with the dog and my book bag and no help.
We get on the plane and get ready to take off, and again the European mentality catches me off guard. Once you get past all the four foot tall backpacks (apparently they don't sell suitcases in Europe) and to your seat you start to see shoes coming off faster than a bus full of kids at a McDonald's play area. Immediately they lay the seats back as far as they go, which works out well for a guy like me because with an armrest that doesn't move and the seat in front laid back all the way, I have about 6 inches to shimmy into my seat. Add to that one pocket full of passports, the other with a wallet, and the other with Jaime's lip gloss and you see I was about as comfortable as a Muslim in Kentucky. The good news was that it was only 10 more hours to go.
The food wasn't bad, no gay stewards slid down the emergency slide, so I guess it was a good trip.
When we were landing the boys were looking out the window and we saw the Alps, and all these little villages and the boys looked disappointed. I think they were really expecting houses made out of chocolate.
On a side note, I made an interesting observation. People at the baggage claim have superhuman strength. Seriously, I see women who probably weigh 100 pounds grab their suitcases, which I know probably weigh close to 175 pounds, with one hand, do a spin move and get out of the way. I don't know how they do that when I have to grab the handle with both hands, fall to the ground on my back, use my feet to push of the side of the baggage thing, to get Jaime's bag off the belt. I'm sure the locals were impressed with my ingenuity and willpower.
We did all the in-processing on base as soon as we got here and I'm sure the hardened military wives LOVED my family when we showed up. I get up from getting my ID card photo taken and see Jaime and the boys layed out, sleeping in the chairs at the Pass and ID office. So I say "J, come get your picture taken" and she wakes up walks over looking like M&M did at the dog park...sideways walk, stumble, fall in the chair. Her ID photo will have to end up on the smokinggun.com mugshot roundup, I'm sure. Nick Nolte watch out.
On the road we saw this sign, which is the word for car exit and is everywhere. I have to work on my pronunciation though, because when I say Ausfahrt, Jaime said I sound like a snobby British butler speaking of a gaseous bodily function.
The dog park at the Atlanta airport is completely pointless. It's great and all, but pointless. In between flights I decided to take M&M there to stretch his legs, drop a load, and sniff a few butts. When I volunteered to take the dog to the park it was a more selfish decision, not that I really cared about the dogs' well-being, but I didn't want to have to occupy two boys for two hours at nap time; but as far as anyone else knows, it was me being kind. Anyway, the guy in the red jacket pointed me to the dog park "go down to baggage claim, out the doors, walk past the rental car office and hang a right". It took me 20 minutes to get to the dog park, which was outside security, outside the airport, and outside the Atlanta City Limits I think. Between the drugs and the fact that he had been in the bag the last 3 hours, when I took him out, he looked like a drunk guy trying to cross 301 at 2am to get to 7-eleven. He sort of staggered sideways, fell down, then got back up. Staggered some more, then finally after about 15 minutes he got his legs back just in time for me to shove him back in the bag. He did not pee, poop, run, or stretch. On the way back to the international terminal (furthest terminal from entrance), I got to experience the joys of security again, this time with the dog and my book bag and no help.
We get on the plane and get ready to take off, and again the European mentality catches me off guard. Once you get past all the four foot tall backpacks (apparently they don't sell suitcases in Europe) and to your seat you start to see shoes coming off faster than a bus full of kids at a McDonald's play area. Immediately they lay the seats back as far as they go, which works out well for a guy like me because with an armrest that doesn't move and the seat in front laid back all the way, I have about 6 inches to shimmy into my seat. Add to that one pocket full of passports, the other with a wallet, and the other with Jaime's lip gloss and you see I was about as comfortable as a Muslim in Kentucky. The good news was that it was only 10 more hours to go.
The food wasn't bad, no gay stewards slid down the emergency slide, so I guess it was a good trip.
When we were landing the boys were looking out the window and we saw the Alps, and all these little villages and the boys looked disappointed. I think they were really expecting houses made out of chocolate.
On a side note, I made an interesting observation. People at the baggage claim have superhuman strength. Seriously, I see women who probably weigh 100 pounds grab their suitcases, which I know probably weigh close to 175 pounds, with one hand, do a spin move and get out of the way. I don't know how they do that when I have to grab the handle with both hands, fall to the ground on my back, use my feet to push of the side of the baggage thing, to get Jaime's bag off the belt. I'm sure the locals were impressed with my ingenuity and willpower.
We did all the in-processing on base as soon as we got here and I'm sure the hardened military wives LOVED my family when we showed up. I get up from getting my ID card photo taken and see Jaime and the boys layed out, sleeping in the chairs at the Pass and ID office. So I say "J, come get your picture taken" and she wakes up walks over looking like M&M did at the dog park...sideways walk, stumble, fall in the chair. Her ID photo will have to end up on the smokinggun.com mugshot roundup, I'm sure. Nick Nolte watch out.
On the road we saw this sign, which is the word for car exit and is everywhere. I have to work on my pronunciation though, because when I say Ausfahrt, Jaime said I sound like a snobby British butler speaking of a gaseous bodily function.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Delta's delta
We got our plane tickets today. $9,000 dollars later, we are flying Delta, not by choice, but because they bought our tickets. One thing I've learned is that Delta's delta is comfort. Ten hours on a plane with no TVs in the headrest...oh the humanity. The best part is that because the tickets were booked last minute, we got four seats on the plane, all separate. I figure we'll put Reed in the middle seat in back by the European pervert, Mason up front by the business guy and we'll give Mason the dog for good measure. Jaime will sit by the bathroom and I'll get the seat that doesn't recline. Should be a wonderful trip. I'm sure that someone will give up their seat once we get on the plane, but I'm pretty sure I'll end up in the middle seat next to this guy . Since Delta does not have power outlets on their international flights for coach class, we'll be able to drain the laptop battery before we leave Tampa.
The good news is that we arrive in Germany at 9am their time which will put us at 3am our time, and the best part is that we can't check in until 3pm. So if the Germans don't believe in early check in, das dog vill bepoopin on der lobby.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Culture Research
So Jaime and I decided we should do a little research on the culture of Germany in preparation for our trip (because apparently reading a book on German history will pack your house for you), so she ordered a couple books from Amazon.com. I personally didn't think that a book full of stock images of castles and rosy reviews would be a true representation of Germany, so I took a much more realistic approach, I rented Valkyrie, with Tom Cruise. CRAP was that a mistake, I mean what kind of garbage was that, I saw 2 minutes of Germany and 77 minutes of closeups of Tom Cruises fake missing eye. And talk about depressing, Jaime and I felt like cutting each other with spoons after watching that thing.
Yes, I do realize that we are at the point where we are annoying, Jaime much more than me, but still both of us. The pain of packing and moving hasn't set in yet, so it's still exciting and fun and everything gets turned into something about Germany. It's like when people with kids talk to people without kids about their kids, nobody gives a flying flip that the German word for car exit is Ausfahrt except us....Ok, maybe not that one, that's some funny stuff right there, Ausfahrt.....
We'll see how exciting it is six months from now and I'm still getting water bills and paying someone to kick out my nonpaying tenants right....pure joy.
Yes, I do realize that we are at the point where we are annoying, Jaime much more than me, but still both of us. The pain of packing and moving hasn't set in yet, so it's still exciting and fun and everything gets turned into something about Germany. It's like when people with kids talk to people without kids about their kids, nobody gives a flying flip that the German word for car exit is Ausfahrt except us....Ok, maybe not that one, that's some funny stuff right there, Ausfahrt.....
We'll see how exciting it is six months from now and I'm still getting water bills and paying someone to kick out my nonpaying tenants right....pure joy.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Proposed German Law May Stop My Move
Fresh off the wire, this new German law, if implemented, may hinder our move to Germany.
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