I’d like to be able to find one this side of the Atlantic please. Took me a while to explain the concept to a bemused Bill. They either don’t exist over here, or they’re doing a damn fine job of hiding from me, and I want a soft boiled egg darn it.
Had to purchase some arse kicking knickers (knickers to arse kick in, as opposed to knickers to kick my arse) and collapsed at Target when confronted with US sizes again. Clothing sizes were mildly annoying in the UK when I could vary from a size 8 to a 14 from shop to shop, but at least I had some idea of sizing and grew accustomed to which shops sold the more flattering sizes and whatnot. Here I am clueless and you can’t exactly go around trying pants on for size. I hate that you have to buy some and if they fit..great, and if not…tough. I wish manufacturers everywhere would label clothing using proper measurements. Men get it easy when it comes to buying trousers. Grrrr.
Forgot to bring my espresso cups over here with me and finding those is proving troublesome too. I got a lovely espresso/cappucino machine as a wedding present and have no cups that fit underneath the nozzle easily because they are in the UK. *sigh*
On a plus side though..I made it to a package store and bought a giant 1.75 litre jug of Baileys! That’s impressive. Though the whole means of actually purchasing the alcohol which leaves you feeling like a naughty little girl isn’t so good. Package Stores are just so dodgy looking, and a bitch to get to around here. The brown paper bag thing cracks me up too. Still, I have copius amounts of yummy Baileys and shall have some in my coffee when I get hold of some decent cups.
And speaking of Baileys, Bill’s generous measures are rather amusing to me. I got home from Tang Soo Do last night and he offered me a beverage, mmmm creamy alcoholic ambrosia please! He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a pair of tall Baileys Coffee glasses brim full. I had two glasses and probably about 6 times as much as my normal serving would have been. Not complaining though!
Quince was worrying us last night. He just wasn’t himself and very strange noises kept emitting from him….
He was very so nervous and anxious and would not settle. Kept coming into the bedroom, pacing around, jumping into bed, then immediately racing off again. I checked his tummy for tightness, lumps or bulges, that kind of thing, and discovered I could almost play him like bagpipes! Poor dog. Thankfully whatever it was that was upsetting him seems to have cleared up this morning.
On Friday Bill took me to the bank and we created a joint account. I should soon be getting an ATM card in the post, though I’m not looking forward to the sight of it. I didn’t know that they have your photo printed on them and was certainly not prepared to be caught on film Friday afternoon. Bleargh.
After the trip to the bank we went over to the Social Security offices to get my name updated on their records. You’d think that would be easy…I mean, I have a SSN already and just needed to change my surname. But nope. No such luck. As I am an alien I have to prove that I am here legally before they will make the amendment. Of course, I’m in status, I’m here perfectly legitimately, but have nothing to prove it, so we got tunred away. I wish I could understand the logic to this. I can’t use the SSN to work until I get the accompanying EAD, and you’d think it would be in their best interests to keep track of name changes like this. Dammit. So what does this mean at the moment? …without the SSN in my married name I can’t get the correct ID and therefore can’t actually use my newly acquired ATM card anywhere they would check for ID. Also, I think it sets applying for my driving license back a few more weeks too as that is all reliant on being able to furnish legal status and SSN too. Getting very very very pissed off with all this crap now.
Oh and my TSD Instructor has declared that he wants all our uniforms to be screen printed with the club name he has just come up with: KO Karate. Oh dear. I thought it even worse when he told us what it stood for: Keepers of Order. How vigilante does that sound?!! Everyone else seems to be happy and like it though so I kept my opinion to myself. Thankfully at the moment he can’t print anything on the back of my dobok because it has Tae Kwon Do emblazoned across it in big letters.