Blogging again

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.