The Christmas-Off

It's Christmas Eve and I am on my second drink of the day. It's 3.30pm. But it's Christmas Eve and if you can't have a Baileys at midday at Christmas, when can you?


I have spent Christmas in Orlando before, as a CP, watching the Christmas Day Parade on ABC in Vista Way by myself and opening the presents my mum had sent me in a stocking. It wasn't nearly as depressing as it sounds, and then I went to work which kept me busy and cheerful. This year though I feel like I'm coming at it brand new, because it is my first Christmas with my new husband.


One thing that is surprising me is how much I'm missing the wintry atmosphere of being home at Christmas. Not just snow (although I could easily have plenty of that given the state of the place at the moment), but just the cold air on my ears and the way the cold smells and how it gets dark at 4pm. And I am missing Christmas Eve in my hometown of Northallerton, going to all the over-priced pubs and almost falling on my arse on the ice.


When it is 20C outside and bright sunshine, it is hard to find that Christmas spirit, but me and Jason have been working hard at it, and everyone knows that starts with Christmas music.


It had never occurred to me that Christmas music might differ on either side of the pond, but this was driven home to me by one shocking discovery.


Jason had never heard the Fairytale of New York before this week.


I know, I know. If you need to have a lie down, I understand. (Americans: if you, too, have never heard the greatest Christmas song ever written, look it up. It's by the Pogues. Your life will change forever.)


This led to an immediate comparison of favourite Christmas songs, both our favourite good ones and our favourite really crap ones. I seem to favour all the post-70s ones - Elton John, Slade, Wizzard, et al - whereas Jason seems to be more about the golden oldies and a whole world of Johnny Mathis.


This Christmas song has led into a wider 'Christmas-off' of who's country does the better Christmas. And there is no doubt that America, or Florida specifically, since Florida is the only state where I've ever spent Christmas, has some cool stuff going on. My personal favourite is the Candlelight Processional at Epcot. This happens 3 times a night from the end of November until New Year and you have to be there 90 minutes prior minimum to even have a hope of getting a seat. In short, it is a recital of the nativity story by several different celebrities over the course of the month, accompanied by the WDW Orchestra and the Mass Cast Choir. Now I am not a religious person by any means, but I defy anyone not to be moved by Candlelight. It's like a grown-up's nativity play. Me and Jason went last night - our second attempt, after our first last week was thwarted by Disney's failure to label their food and I had to be treated by their in-house paramedics mid-show for an allergic reaction! - and it's the first time I've felt truly festive this year.


Talking of foodstuffs, our Christmas-off descended into who's country does the best Christmas desserts, which I think led to my favourite quote of the year. Apparently, the French are old too, but dammit they know how to make a good pastry.


I've managed to prove I can bake cookies, though. Happy Christmas everyone :)

Snow Chaos?

I've spent quite a lot of time over the last few days reading stories such as this, and this, and being simultaneously surprised and relieved. Surprised that I am not in the middle of the travel nightmare that is currently ensuing back home in the UK - for, as anyone who is friends with me on Facebook knows, I am usually suffering a variety of delays and cancellations when snow/ash/mutant slugs hit (and having slept on the floor in both Gatwick and Heathrow, though fortunately not for long periods, everyone who is stranded has my deepest sympathy) - and relieved that 1.  I am not having to go to work in that stuff, and 2. I am not being subjected to continuous Daily Mail headlines screaming, unimaginatively, "SNOW CHAOS" or variations thereof.

Here in Florida this week, the news has also been gripped by the weather, because the temperature was forecast to reach a perilous - wait for it - minus 2 celsius. Every evening on the TV, the major networks had a temperature monitor in the bottom of the screen so you could watch the temperature drop degree by degree to a temperature I am sure most of my fellow countrymen currently suffering -9c or below would consider toasty by comparison.

Meanwhile, the American midwest was experiencing snow storms that would make the gritters back home run away screaming. The roof of the Minnesota Vikings stadium collapsed under the weight of 17 inches of snow, and yet planes were still taking off. Ohio-born Jason's reaction when I showed him photos of the snow in London that has caused Heathrow to be closed for 2 days was "I wouldn't have even got a day off school for that."

It's just made me realise that 'severe weather' is definitely relative. Florida has an obsession with weather that I would argue exceeds the British - all the local news stations boast about who has the biggest 'severe weather centre' and who's technology gives the most accurate rate of lightning strikes per minute - but their idea of a severe weather warning during the winter is a 'hard freeze' or 'wind chill' warning. In other words, wear a coat. See, isn't that easier?


In fairness, there is an financial reason why Floridians fly into a blind panic at the first sign of frost, and that is the citrus crop which accounts for a significant proportion of the state economy. Oranges start to die just under the freezing point, so we had live continual broadcasts from the orange fields of Florida about what the farmers are doing to protect their produce.


And there is also a financial reason why planes continue to fly in Minnesota, yet Heathrow has so many passengers sleeping on the floor that the airport is at capacity - cost. Cost-benefit analysis dictates that this weather is such a freak event in Europe that it's not worth investing in the snow clearing technology.


But then, I've got stuck in it 3 years in a row - not so freak any more is it?


(By the way, I'm aware this isn't really about life in Florida - but unemployment means I have a lot of time to dwell on these things :))

Broom broom...my adventure in the American used car market

Ladies and gents, I would like to introduce you to my new friend, Vicky the Volkswagen. She is my new favourite thing, but as I am about to describe, our relationship has gotten off to a rather tempestuous start.

Yes, those are gold alloys, and she has an exhaust the size of my head and sounds like a monster coming round the corner. I officially own a chav car.


I always knew I was going to have to get a car eventually, but last week, as I sat at home with Jason gone for 12-14 hours every day (sigh, Disney at Christmas!), I was losing the will to live and rapidly realised that I was going to need one sooner rather than later - especially if I want to volunteer or go to classes to fill my jobless hours waiting for my work card.


So the search began.


Here in an important fact about the American used car market - it sucks. Especially if, like me, you are on a limited budget. It's not really fair to do a direct comparison between the US and UK markets, but even so the US market is excessively inflated, partly due to much higher annual miles and partly due to the recession. I was on a budget of around $5000 - which is about £3500. Back home, £3500 could have bought me a 4-year old Renault ClioSport 172 with 45,000 miles, or a 1.3L 2008 Ford Ka with a tiny 13,000 miles on the clock. Over here, for my budget, I wanted something under 10 years old with under 100,000 miles on the clock. And let me tell you, my options were limited, and when they do show up they are gone in 5 seconds flat. Most dealerships looked at me like I'd lost my mind.


So, limited availability was my first challenge. My second challenge was trying to find something that wasn't going to kill me. One thing I've noticed whilst trying not to get flattened by some of the crazy drivers on the interstate is that cars over here are driven literally until bits start falling off. In Florida at least, there is no such thing as an MOT (translation for Americans: an MOT is an annual check-up that is required by law on all cars over 3 years old that checks if your car is roadworthy. If you car fails its MOT, you either need to get whatever it fails on fixed, or it is not legal to drive.) - so that means that it can be extremely difficult to know whether the used car you are looking at has just had a lot of cosmetic work done, looks shiny, but is going to fall apart 5 minutes after you drive it away.


I ended up getting my new friend Vicky from what can only be described as a fairly sketchy dealership in a fairly sketchy area. I found her on Craigslist after a tip from a nice bloke in the Honda dealership me and Jason visited a few days ago. Craigslist easily had the most vehicle listings that hit my critera, but this was a serious case of sorting the wheat from the highly-illegal chaff. I probably enquired after about 10 or 11 cars, and about 40% of the responses I got were of the 'sob story/need to sell great car at too good to be true price/all I need you to do is send me money via Paypal and I'll ship you the car for a no-obligation trial!' - otherwise known as scammers. 


So when I rang up about the VW and an actual person answered, I decided it was worth checking out, even though I was nervous about parting with my money. The dealership looked rough but the gents were nice. The test drive was good, so I decided to get in there before someone else did...and drove off with my new car about an hour later :)


But then when I went to pick Jason up from work, she wouldn't start. Panic, panic, panic. Warranties on used cars here basically don't exist and it's sold-as-seen - had I just been totally screwed?


To cut a long story short, my friends at the dodgy dealership aren't so hot on battery replacements, and a loose terminal was causing the battery to short out, all the electrics to die, and the engine to stop (including when I was in motion, which needless to say was terrifying). My very handy husband spent all day on Sunday just making her safe enough to get back to the dealership on Monday to be checked out. Fortunately, he succeeded, and now she is running like clockwork - but that doesn't mean I'm not taking her back today to give the dealer an earful. You never know, I might be able to guilt them into fixing the cigarette lighter.


So now I have a car again, after 3 years of being car-less. It feels weird to have that big an asset in my life, and a bit nerve-wracking as buying her took a significant chunk of my Unemployment Survival Fund. But she also means freedom, and that really is priceless.

A most unusual start to married life

Before I start this, can I just say how much I love how you post things here? You go to the mailbox outside your house, put the letter you want to send in it, then lift up the little flag on the side that says you have something to send (I always wondered what that was for!). Then when the postman delivers your post, he also picks up your outgoing post. Genius. Why don't we do that in England?


But anyway, back to topic. Me and Jason are finally married!!

We had an absolutely amazing day. From putting facepacks on and watching Hairspray with my bridesmaids to our first kiss, all the way to watching two of my closest friends, Ed and Gareth, educate the Americans on the Peter Kay dance for 'Is This the Way to Amarillo?', it was as close to perfect as we could have hoped for. The sun shone at just the right moment and, apparently, there were dolphins swimming in the bay as we said our vows. If that isn't a sign I don't know what is :)


Yes, in true bridezilla fashion, I did have a couple of tizzes (our sound system for the reception was a bit rubbish and after a couple of - ok, a few - strong gins I decided noone was enjoying themselves!) but that's not what I will remember - I will remember all my friends, from both sides of the pond, coming together, getting along and having an amazing time with me and my lovely new husband. I hope my rubbish memory works for me this time and I keep those memories always.


The day after the wedding, me and Jason sat on our balcony at the wedding hotel, overlooking Clearwater Bay, drank bucks fizz and read our guestbook. Everyone at our wedding got a guestbook page with places to draw pictures and random questions about us and the wedding. Reading the whole thing was a blast - some bits made us cry and some bits just made us laugh our asses off. It's amazing.


After we checked our we headed back to Orlando for our honeymoon with a twist. We were staying at a Disney resort - so we didn't exactly stray far from home - and more than that, we still had 14 Brits in town (plus me!), so our honeymoon was going to get a little crowded...


We did achieve something pretty impressive, with the help of 3 very lovely cast member friends. Each Disney cast member gets a 'main entrance pass', more commonly known as a maingate, which allows them to let 3 friends into the parks for free so many time a year. So with a monumental logistic effort, Jason and our friends got myself plus my 14 British friends into the parks gratis for a day. And we had an amazing, if exhausting time!

Anyone who has ever gone to Disney World knows how tiring doing a full day in the parks is - and we did 3 parks in one day. It is possible to do all 4 in a day, but not with 15 people, and definitely not when you finish up at a German bierhalle for dinner drinking one-litre steins. We did awesome, and had an amazing day.


Everyone has gone home now. For once, the horrendous British winter actually worked in my favour in the travel domain, allowing me a few extra hours with my mum and my closest friends while the gate jetties froze at Gatwick. 


Saying goodbye to everyone, in particular my mum and my best friend Nic, for the second time in 2 months, was very tough. But now I have to accept that I will see them a lot less than I used to. That is very difficult too. But I have to work with the magic of modern technology to keep in touch and, much like when me and Jason were apart, look forward to the next trip or visit!


And I don't mean to sound like I have it rough, because I don't. I married a man who understands how I feel about all of the above and instead of rolling his eyes when I get upset, just gives me a big cuddle. I worry that now I'm married I somehow have to act more mature and be a different person, but given Jason said that if I suddenly became more mature he'd divorce me on the spot (what a guy!!), I feel a bit more comfortable about just being myself. 'That's what she said' jokes and all.


It's going to be a difficult ride - marriage is, and with an emigration involved, doubly so. But what can I say? I like a challenge :)

Butterflies

I haven't blogged for a week or so, and that is because the British contingent have arrived. 14 of my very closest friends and family are installed in some very nice villas just down the road.

There is also the small matter that I am getting married tomorrow.

I haven't really felt nerves at all, although I've had some peaks of stress this week trying to organise people.  But today is 24 hours til d-day, and the butterflies are definitely in residence.

My dress is ready and waiting...

...and we have a big pile of stuff ready to be transported to Clearwater Beach in preparation. I don't think I realised how much work a wedding actually is until about 5 days ago. 

My main obsession, however, is the weather. Current forecast is about 20c with a 20% chance of rain. I think 20c is better than today's 26 when you are wearing a big old dress, but I'm just hoping the showers hold off for the 90 minutes we will be outside at 4pm tomorrow...

Anyway, this is just a short entry, cos lots to do. And to say that, given that I will be on sort-of honeymoon next week ('sort-of' because we are staying at a Disney hotel and there will still be 14 Brits in town!), I'm going to be out of action for a week or so. But don't worry - I'll be back :)

Homesickness

I wanted to write a bit about homesickness, but I've waited until a day when I am not feeling particularly homesick, because I don't want to get into a "England is amazing/America sucks" type rant. I absolutely have times when I do feel that way, and that's part of being aware of where you are from, but in the grand scheme of things it's not really fair.


In the weeks running up to me moving over here, I warned Jason that I could spend my first three weeks just wanting to turn tail and get on the next flight back to Manchester. Because that is what happened when I came to Orlando for my Disney College Programs. I spent the first three weeks thinking 'what the hell have I done?' and many tearful phone calls to my long-suffering mother were made. Then I would do something that was awesome - I think on my second college program it was a backstage BBQ at the Magic Kingdom where I went to disco in the middle of the day and did the Cha Cha Slide with Lilo & Stitch - and suddenly I would be OK.


But those times were very different, because I knew that - eventually - I would be heading home. 


This is the fourth time I have moved abroad - I spent 9 months living in Paris and this is attempt number 3 in Florida - and the one thing I can tell you is that immersion in a completely different culture definitely makes you more aware of where you are from. It's a great privilege, in a way, because you get to teach people which stereotypes are right and which are wrong - yes we drink a lot of tea, no I am not on personal terms with the Queen. 


I think one thing that worries me the most is losing touch with British life. Stupid little things like who got voted off X Factor, who is presenting the Ten O' Clock News on BBC1, and how much a bar of Dairy Milk costs. But I am trying to be pragmatic, and find my own way to stay in touch. With technology today, it is really, really easy to keep in touch with what is going on back home. It's just a shame that the major TV channels in the UK have blocked their online streaming to international IP addresses - but I'm trying to find a way round it.


I have found my own ways to express my Britishness too, which largely involves occasionally exercising my right to slag off various American ways of doing things and act superior. Oh, I may not be right, of course, but it bloody well makes me feel better. A key example is happening right now with this whole Prince William engagement thing. Watching NBC Nightly News earlier, the presenter referred to William as the 'future King of England', to which my response (to noone in particular, given I'm sat here by myself) was, "it's future King of Great Britain actually, jackass!" Now I am watching the BBC coverage on BBC America and Jeremy Paxman, anchor of a nightly news debate show called Newsnight, is on, and I feel all is right with the world.


(Actually, Jeremy Paxman is a bit of an arrogant tosser, but I am choosing to forget that for a bit. It's all about the rose-tinted glasses, so long as you know when to take them off.)


Of course I miss my family and my friends terribly, and that comes and goes when you least expect it. Last night I was perfectly happy watching Jerry Maguire, and I used the expression 'square eyes' when chatting to Jason. It made me feel terribly homesick out of the blue, because my mum used to use that expression all the time when I was a kid.


Fortunately, I have a great man who loves me enough to realise that my homesickness and my love for him are not mutually exclusive, and is there with a big hug whenever I need it.


I guess I've realised that the key to surviving is realising that homesickness is allowed, and that it will pass. And picking up the phone to my mum, dad, or best friends, is the best medicine when I am feeling blue.


But this week I am extra lucky, because most of my friends and family are arriving this weekend for the wedding. So I will get a big piece of home for the next 2 weeks - and I can't wait!

The wonderful world of seating plans and the CIS

I realised that I have been writing this blog for a few weeks now and have studiously failed to mention the entire reason I'm even in America, which is that I'm getting married.


The following statement is not going to be a shock to anyone who knows me, but for the uninitiated - I am a terrible bride. I am getting married a few years earlier than I had in mind in my life plan (which just proves that forward planning is pointless), due to a small thing called the Atlantic combined with immigration law, and this also makes me the first person in my circle of friends to be doing so. End result - I have been to 2 weddings in the past ten years,  can barely remember either (and one of them was my dad's!) and therefore really have no idea what's going on most of the time.


We've been planning this wedding for over a year, and now it is less than 3 weeks away, which is a very scary (but exciting!) prospect. I am having to deal with things that the sensible side of my brain is rejecting out of hand, saying 'who gives a toss anyway?'. Key example - the seating plan. Wasn't going to bother, but then I realised that it could easily end up being a trans-Atlantic school disco situation - all the Brits on one side of the room, and all the Americans on the other. So I have lost 2-3 hours of my life to picking where people shall sit. Will this person get on with that person? Do these people have anything in common whatsoever? It's the sort of thing you hope you don't have to think about but in reality you do.


Fortunately I haven't turned into bridezilla yet and am taking the apparent total disappearance off the face of the planet of our ceremony musician relatively well. This is a good thing, because on top of all the standing wedding planning I am also having to prepare my green card application.


Up to this point, we have given the United States Citizenship and Immigration Service $1200 to get me into the country - but that does not allow me to stay here. My visa, called a K-1, allows me to enter the US for a maximum of 90 days to marry a US citizen (a specific one, by the way, not just anyone!). Once Jason and I are hitched, we then have to file what is called an Adjustment of Status application - in other words, apply for my green card. This is what allows me to live and work in the US on a (semi-)permanent basis.


Applying for the green card costs another $1000, and even then it is only 'conditional residency'. It's a temporary permanent resident card. I know, me neither. So then in 2 years time we will have to fork out another $500 to make it a standard 10-year green card.


All of this paperwork is also extremely complicated and requires a lot of supporting evidence. The good news is that we are pretty much becoming experts on visa paperwork, so each thing we have to do is taking a little less time every time. 


That's a very short explanation of a very long and tedious process. But one that will be very worth it in the end.


But for now it's back to seating plans, song lists and guestbooks. Assuming I need any of these - my husband to be is currently on his stag do, so we'll wait and see if he gets back in one piece!

Food Wars!

I have been inspired by Miss Nicola Warrington to talk about food (although, as I'm going to the gym straight after, I'm hoping it's not going to make me too hungry!). Nic posted a Lonely Planet article on her Facebook comparing American and British food, so I thought I'd add my tuppence worth.

One of the things I was sad to leave behind at home was the food. British food frequently gets a bad rap; when I was teaching in Paris, I asked some of my students what they already knew about the UK and the food in particular - the answer was almost universally 'pudding'. What does 'pudding' even mean by itself anyway? It either needs the word Yorkshire in front of or some kind of sweet treat, e.g. chocolate pudding.

This leads me nicely on to what I proudly consider, as an adopted Yorkshirewoman, to be one of the gems of the British culinary world - the aforementioned Yorkshire pudding.

Glorious gravy bowls made of batter - traditionally with roast beef and loads of veg, but just as good when you're paying music festival prices, but get a foot-wide Yorkshire filled with sausages, mash and gravy. And people say British cuisine sucks. Nom.

I will admit, however, that British food in the strictest sense - i.e. of British origin - isn't exactly varied. Roast dinners, sandwiches, meat and two veg, and, erm, that's about it. But what we do do, extremely well might I add, is embrace other countries' cuisine and make it our own. There is no better example of this than curry.

Basically, if you haven't had a good curry before, you haven't lived. Curry is actually considered a high-risk food for nut allergy sufferers, so the fact I still go to balti houses back home on a regular basis should tell you something about how good it is. Standard side dish requirements are pilau rice and naan bread.

I am going to get on to American food in a second, but let me just say one more word in support of British cuisine: Cadbury's. Enough said.

Now American food also gets a bad rap from us Brits and I'm going to be honest and say I agree with a lot of it. Fresh fruit and veg is very expensive in supermarkets - when a red pepper is $1.20 for one or you can get a burger, fries and a drink from Maccy D's for around $2.50, you can see why there is a weight problem in America. A lot of the food is very processed and frequently fried. When I lived here in 2008 I put on a stone over 6 months, because it was easier (and cheaper) to just eat fast food the whole time.

But (and this is a big but) - if you know where to go for what you want, you can get some truly awesome food over here. In the midst of all the fried crap, American salads are unbeatable anywhere. I had a chinese chicken salad from Earl of Sandwich today that was out of this world. All the ingredients are always really fresh and the dressings are delicious - just ask for them on the side, otherwise those nice ingredients might get drowned.

In addition, I must make room for the humble steak. It is blasphemy for a carnivore to visit the United States and not have a steak. As it happens, I had a steak last week that made it into the Top 2 of my 'best steaks ever' list. It was at California Grill, which is the restaurant on the 15th floor of Disney's Contemporary resort and overlooks the Magic Kingdom. I had the filet steak with loaded mash potato and broccolini and it. was. DIVINE. (image  below is similar but not exactly what we had)

Lastly, there's the variety. British food also has great variety and is certainly healthier in terms of what you can get on the go, but the sheer availability in the States is mind-boggling. Many places are open past midnight, up to 4 or 5 in the morning, or even 24 hours (post-dancing pancakes at IHOP at 4am anyone?). Steak, chili, Mexican, Chinese, roast beef sandwiches, and yes, McDonalds et al.

However, for me, UK still wins on this one, and it's not just because I'm biased. There is one irrefutable reason why British food is better than American food.

Only one city in the entire United States has a Nandos.

My first encounter with American healthcare (kind of)

Today I had to go to the doctors. It's only been 12 days since I got here, and already my body is falling apart.

Fortunately, I, as with many other people, am well aware of my medical inadequacies (and propensity to end up in casualty/the ER). I am not covered on Jason's work health insurance from work until we get married, so I bought special 'non-immigrant visa' health insurance (it's surprising how easy it was to find!) that will cover me until the big day.

I will not spend much time on the American healthcare system, as I tend to get my knickers in a twist in absolute frustration, and I don't want to go on a big rant here. All I will say is that back home, socialised healthcare is king. The NHS is free at the point of use (although we effectively pre-pay through fairly hefty taxes) and prescriptions are a fixed price. It's not perfect - it's billions of pounds in debt and waiting lists for non-urgent procedures are long - but in my opinion, as someone who's life the NHS has saved on numerous occasions, it is a precious thing. So that means life here in the USA is going to take some getting used to.

I do know the value of having good insurance here. When I first worked at Disney, I skimped on my insurance premium and regretted it when I ended up in the Florida Hospital ER with an allergic reaction. $3000 later, I vowed to always be covered and to check the details!

Anyway, back to the present. I went to an urgent care walk-in facility that I had checked with my insurers was covered (after about an hour of poring over the details of coverage and deciding that nothing made any sense at all). The first thing the receptionist did was say my insurance wasn't accepted. She got very snotty when I begged to differ. Fortunately (after I had been proved right), the nurse and doctor I saw were much nicer. The visit cost me $50, which as a Brit I found quite painful, but was much less than I expected.

The effects of a private healthcare system were evident and quite amusing to me. There was a TV in the exam room and the doctor took all his notes on a touchscreen laptop. Weird...

Next stop was Wal-Mart to pick up my prescriptions. I do not have prescription insurance at the moment so I was dreading this moment, but as it happened both the drugs I needed were only $4 each - and that is cheaper than they would have been on the NHS where all prescriptions are a flat rate of about 7.50. Wal-Mart and other large companies running pharmacies have the buying power these days to buy generic versions of major branded drugs, so the bills for common drugs isn't (always, at least) as astronomical as the stereotype would suggest. The lady who gave me my drugs was also a pillock, but I'm just going to put that down to her working at Wal-Mart.

So a mixed bag of experiences today. Hopefully as I start to learn how it all works they will get better.

And by the way, still being tormented by the bug bites. The only way I could sleep last night was when my long-suffering boy put baking soda paste and a bag of ice on my feet. I am, most definitely, a sexy lady.

A mid-term survival guide

I'm sitting at the breakfast bar writing this as a desperate attempt to distract myself from scratching my feet.


I don't know what I did to upset the insects of Florida, but they seem to find me very tasty. Sat on my friend SB's porch last night waiting for trick-or-treaters to come round, some of the state's tinier and more irritating residents decided to have a feast on the one bit of me I missed with bug spray - my tootsies. I have bites in-between my toes, for God's sake, while everyone else is bite free!! If you ask me there's some serious injustice happening here.


I am also trying to ignore the TV because I am being bombarded with advertising that might as well have been written in Greek for all the sense it makes to me. For those of you that don't know, tomorrow is the mid-term elections here in the USA, so all the different candidates for Florida are advertising like mad on TV, radio, and billboards.


I am not going to go into any ideological detail here, because one of my main rules in life is 'never discuss politics or religion - it just gets messy'. But to position a bit, I'm a bit of an ideological liberal - not in a deeply political, I-know-every-last-detail-of-policy kind of way, but in a 'can't we all just get along?' kind of way. So in the cut-throat and (I don't think it's unreasonable to say) fairly right-leaning world of American politics, I often feel a bit at sea.


Plus, I'm British, so I am used to all our political advertising being heavily controlled - political broadcasts have to be clearly announced as such before and after the broadcast; they tend to come immediately after the news and that's about the only time; and there has to be a balance of representation across all the terrestrial channels (so for instance, the BBC can't only show Labour party political broadcasts, ITV can't only show Conservative broadcasts, etc.).


Over here, with the elections happening tomorrow, virtually every ad I have seen has been for one candidate or another (as I understand it, if you can pay for it, you get the airtime, although they have to be clearly marked as political too). Now I've got to be honest, I have absolutely no bloody idea what anyone is talking about. What is Amendment 4? Amendment 5? What did so-and-so do that was so awful?


You don't need to understand American politics to get the gist of all these adverts though. It just all seems a bit - well - like mud-slinging. Every commercial I have seen and heard has focused on slagging off one of the other candidates, portraying them as evil people, without ever really getting into the detail of why you should vote for that person and what they would actually do in office. It isn't just one side doing this either - Republicans, Democrats, and independents are all as bad as each other.


I'm not saying that British politics is above all this - they all go in for a bit of mud-slinging every once in a while. It's just not so...how to put it...vicious. Not that I have a vote in this country, but if I did I'm not sure I'd use it - just because they all seem as bad as each other.


I said this was a mid-term survival guide, and so it is. And the one way to survive is - ignore it. That's my plan, anyway!!


As this has all been a bit serious I'm going to sign off this post with something more light-hearted. Saturday was my very bestest friend's birthday party back in London and I was a bit down in the dumps that I couldn't be there. But my best man, Andy, (yes I have a best man, deal with it) set up a Skype web conference and I attended as a 'virtual' guest - including playing virtual ring of fire! 

It was the best virtual birthday party I've ever attended :)

Welcome to Floor-dah, or adventures in pronunciation.

Well, I made it 4 days without crying. Admittedly, I had had a few beers this time, which didn't help in the slightest, but I think tears are probably likely to surface occasionally. I did, after all, just move continents.


The whole moving continents thing makes you look at the world around you in a totally different way. By that I mean, instead of when you're on holiday (I so nearly said vacation there, which is horrendous and is exactly the sort of thing I'm going to talk about!) you notice the big things that are different - like driving on the right (and not necessarily correct!) side of the road, currency, accents, etc. It's only when you spend a lot of time in one place - or know you are going to - that you notice all the smaller things that are different.


Here is an example. I went to the bank this afternoon to cash a check I'd got in the post. I went to the counter and asked to cash the check. I was presented 5 minutes later with several hundred dollars in notes. It turns out I had to specify that I wanted to deposit the check - if you ask to cash a check in this country, you will get exactly that back - cash.


Part of the reason for this is that the old cliche is true - the British and the Americans really are two nationalities separated by a common language. There are occasions where different words are used to mean the same thing - bathroom and toilet as an example. The really confusing bit is, like my fun times at Wachovia earlier, where the same word means different things. This is particularly true when it comes to slang and I've got myself in a lot of trouble in the past thanks to misadventures in slang - don't even ask what 'pulling' means in the US. (For any American readers, 'pulling' in the UK is a slang term for making out)


Then there's accents.


 A clear example - Florida. I say it with 3 syllables (flo-REE-dah). When my friends on this side of the pond say it, I hear 'FLOOR-dah'. Where we Brits have a short vowel sound, the Americans have a long one (repeat: ruh-PEET / REE-peet). Generally this is easy to decipher, but occasionally it can get messy - I had a complete misunderstanding with a friend of mine a couple of years ago due to the way each of us says the word garage.


I'm very predisposed to pick up accents of the people I'm with, and did return home from my six months working in the USA with a bit of an American twang and a lot of American terms (don't even ask about the 'stick shift' incident, I'm still paying for it 3 years late). But now I am here, and here for good, I can already feel myself fighting in my head for the survival of British English, which feels like one of the cornerstones of my 'Britishness' and which, now I'm ex-patriated, feels much more important than before. I've often read about how language becomes a huge part of a person's identity when they move abroad - I just didn't realise the same issues applied between two English-speaking countries.


I'll sign off for now with an apology for geeking out on this - but as a linguist, I think about this stuff all the time :)

First Post....

Hi folks...

This is my first post from my new blog, which I am hoping will keep me sane during what is a very turbulent but exciting point in my life.


I can't imagine anyone would possibly be reading this who didn't already know what I am doing in a town just outside Orlando with no job and my entire life in 4 suitcases, but just in case, I will give you the short version. On October 21st I got on a plane to the United States, one way, ending two and a half years of long-distance relationship with my fiance Jason. I have a visa that took 8 months and a four-figure sum to obtain, and next month we will be getting married. After that we will start the long and painful journey to getting my green card and starting our lives together.


I should mention at this point that I have prior experience working and living in Florida - that is how me and the Boy met - but it turns out leaving for six months and leaving, for all intents and purposes, for good, are very different. Leaving my family - and my best friends - at the airport was probably one of the hardest things I will ever do. I handled it quite well until approximately 20 hours later when I finally arrived in Orlando and proceeded to cry uncontrollably for another 2! The poor Boy didn't really know what to make of that, but I think I was just totally overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of what I was doing.


Fortunately there haven't been many more tears since then - although I am sure there will be along the way - and I have been trying to get into a position where I feel that I am living here and part of life here and less like I'm just on holiday. For me, that meant getting my driving license sorted as soon as possible. Fortunately, I only needed to renew it, so no test for me!! But I did have to talk my way out of a note on my record that said I had been driving my car in 2008 without insurance. Actually, I'd sold the car and let the insurance lapse, but the person who bought it never transferred the documents. Could have been big trouble, as I had no way of proving that was what happened. But fortunately I can, apparently, pull off 'bemused foreigner' quite well, and my license was renewed - until my visa expires at least. So now I can drive Jason's car, which gives me a bit of freedom coupled with a rather interesting convertible driver's sunburn. Sexy.


Anyway, that's enough for now. I'll get into the nitty-gritty later on, but for now I'm doing good. Got my first Halloween party tomorrow night - well, technically second, but the one I'm doing fancy dress for at least!! We'll see how it goes.....