I feel dirty

I just got referred to as a sales engineer... I feel really really dirty. Must go wash my mouth out with soap.

Not made for this....

This past week, I spent the week in France. It was an amazing week filled with lots of laughter, wine, and good people. I felt at home again getting an opportunity to see the people I work with from the states. I had a great time but I have lingering doubts that I am not made for this. I am not made for sales. I don't think.

For example, I can't seem to get this one gentleman out of my head. In his suspenders and waist-high pants, he comes up to me during booth duty and thrusts one of our glossy data sheets in his hand. His eyes were alight with wonder and awe as he told me how he is a professor at a Polish university and was interested in our products. He seemed soo trusting. So humble. So sweet. He would amble forward in his little cardigan and fill the world with his own thoughts and ideas. It made me wish I were back in school. Instead I looked at him and smiled. We talked for a bit but unfortunately they can't afford to have our products. I had to turn him away although I pointed him to one of our resellers. It just broke my heart. I was torn. My heart was saddened and for the first time in a long time I felt ashamed for what I do. Materialism doesn't become me. I am fine without the money, the cars, the pretty clothes. I want to be back in my world of idealism. Where the world is still possible. Jerry McGuire has nothing on me I suppose :)

Perhaps my heart can take such brutal beatings as it has endured and keep beating. It still has hope. I still believe. But, I don't know if my soul will ever survive this occupation. Where do I go from here?

In other news, I washed a set of laundry today in my washer/dryer combo... It only took 2.5 hours and a lot of water... These little all in one combos are renowned for their leaking seals and inability to dry anything... And they were right... I have laid all of my intimate apparel out on the table and hung from the rafters to let it air dry. I am just glad I don't live with anyone... they'd be surrounded by lace and silk. More adventures to come... You have to hear my story about my night in an Irish pub in France!

The girl I aspire to be...

“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.”
Leo F. Buscaglia quotes

A touch of home...

No major updates or debacles today. Promise. I was a very good Brit. Serious.

However, I do have one major update. Today my shipment of imported goods arrived from the states. A touch of home was brought across the pond with me. I am so excited. My cowboy hat is now perched precariously on the coat hanger in the hallway. My HOWDY sign greets visitors in the entryway. Family pictures adorn the spartan walls. And my most prized possessions are my Texas A&M quilts that my mother handstitched for Christmas. One is lying on my lap keeping me warm (Where were these things when I was dying of frostbite i tell ya?). The other is wonderfully covering the reddish tint of my other couch. It's a gorgeous day here in England. I am finally home.

American Freezes to Death... Hilarity Ensues

With all moves there is a certain adjustment period. It takes some time to get used to your new surroundings. I acknowledge and embrace this. However, one should never take for granted certain elemental aspects like HEAT for example. Upon arriving back in the UK from the US, the temperatures plummeted to subhuman lows. (See previous post re: snow.. yeah.. Texas girls don't do snow well).

One would assume that the flat would be equipped with heat. It is in fact. I have radiators in each room with temperature nozzels on each one. Naturally I assumed that turning these little things to the left of the right would regulate temperature in said rooms. Hmm. After a few hours of still being frozen like a popcicle, I realized that something was drastically wrong. With little icicles dangling from my eyelashes, I started a frantic search all over the flat. Surely there has to be a main control. A thermostat. SOMETHING.

Hours later, I have scoured the flat, searching high and low for this master control. Standing on chairs to look up at the Electrical Fuse closet (having had to find that my first day here after blowing a fuse), I didn't spy anything that looked remotely like a thermostat. I even got on my knees and crawled the length of the flat searching for a gas nozzle only to end up with rug burn on my already tender knees. Starting to really feel like a hopeless Bridget Jones, I tucked the rogue strands of hair behind my ear and carried on. Chanting to myself, "I will not fail... I will not freeze. I will not fail", I started outside. Maybe there is something out there. Picture the headlines now, American gets trapped in garden entry attempting to find Gas thermostat. Hilarity Ensues".

After locating the water meter, the gas meter, and the electricity meter but no nozzle, I started having flashes of London CSI stepping over my frozen body 3 weeks after I died from frostbite. No one knows where I live. No one will ever find my body. "I am going to die a frozen blue popcicle in the dead of winter in a foreign country", I think to myself. Well not really, this is a little exaggerated. But I did consider that I might possibly fail at being a European on my first official day on the job. Seriously Metalchick, get a hold of yourself.

About this time, I step back into my apartment to notice that the heaters are on! Eureka! Something I did obviously had a positive affect. Well obviously it wasn't that simple. I seemed to notice that it was now exactly 7pm. (yes... hours later... hours of me crawling around trying to figure this shit out). But now I had a different objective. I needed to find a timer. I had recalled the fact that the boiler has a little clock looking thing on it. It was ticking away like a little bomb about to explode. This boiler also happens to turn on the gas when I turn on the hot water... Hmm... Yes. You got it. Only 10 hours after realizing I was freezing cold did I notice that there is a timer on the boiler for the heating element. And they call me an engineer. So sad.

Let it Snow!

Well hello everyone. I haven't posted much lately but I wanted to let you know that I have an apartment and INTERNET. Do you have any idea how happy I am to have internet? It's incredible. I love it. My stuff should arrive on Friday.

Yesterday was a peaceful day in Reading. I did some work and went to dinner with a coworker that was in from Switzerland. We went to the London Street Brasserie and a cocktail bar called Sahara. Both were exceptionally good. It was a great night!

This morning I awoke to find that it has snowed overnight. So I took a few shots of the rooftops outside of my flat. While it's not a novelty around here, I am impressed. Yes. I know I am easily impressed. But it's SNOW. This south texas girl doesn't see snow often. (Noted exception of last week in Austin). Perhaps the frigid air is following me? Hmm. I wonder.

So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu

It's come to this. My apartment in Austin has been gutted. My entire life in Austin is now in a 10x10 cell block storage area. My car ... history. I made 200 bux on selling my books back... Austin is my past. Europe is my present....

Goodbye Austin! I shall miss your beautiful hills. But mostly I will miss the amazing friends and family I have there. I have a feeling though, I shall be back again someday real soon. Europe better look out for here comes a holy terror that will be unleashed upon the unsuspecting Brits! Europe, lookout cause this Texas gal is coming to town. Weeee.

I'm sitting here at the airport on my final move to Reading. I bid my parents a tearful adieu. My bags are packed. I am off to Europe. FINALLY.


Here I go again on my own
Going down the only road I've ever known

Hell Freezes Over....

I often reply to all those Europeans that want to know what Texas is like with:
Texas, like most places has 4 seasons. They are just unique in those seasons. They are:
- Hot
- Hotter than Hell
- The Devil wouldn't fuckin live here (delete expletive if in professional environment).
- And sometimes... Just sometimes Hell freezes over...

Well today ladies and gentlemen, Hell froze over. And of course wouldn't you know it, I slipped and fell on my knee trying to get some garbage into the garbage bin... :) But it's ICE and SNOW and a veritable winter wonderland here in TX. Oh what joy is this!

Failure will never overtake me if my determination to succeed is strong enough. ~ Og Mandino

Mea Culpa. My sincerest apologies for not keeping you abreast of my fascinating adventure. I have been remiss in updating. I suppose I haven't been posting because my fascinating adventures have been mundane if not frustrating at best.

I moved into my flat. I even have pictures! Unfortunately I can't really furnish it with all these beautiful things like dishes, glasses, even a desk until I get a UK bank account. Oh if it were only that simple. But you see, here in the NOT SO UNITED KINGDOM, you can't get a bank account without confirmation of address. That requires a utility bill. But to turn on your utilities, you have to have a bank account because they require debit autopay. Now. So let's repeat this vicious circle just so I get this ingrained... Utility bills are sent out QUARTERLY. yes. every 3 months. So to actually turn on your utilities for your 3 month bill to come in, you have to have a bank account located in the UK... But to get said bank account, you have to have a utility bill verifying your address in the UK... Did you get that now because I assure you that is the summarized version of days negotiating with electricity, gas, water, internet, phone, and bank services in the UK.. Not to mention this is all either in queue after queue at each location or on the phone... my US based mobile phone since I can't get a UK number until the bank account is set up.

And so thus, I am the recipient of an unexpected challenge and I am persuing it with relish. I am determined that this move will not break me. It will not get me down and I will be successful. It will be fun, challenging, and I will grow incredibly as a woman and an individual. May no challenge get between me and my goals for I will overcome those obstacles.

GWTW had it the best... Scarlett is my hero!
"As God is my witness, as God is my witness, they're not going to lick me! I'm going to live through this, and when it's all over, I'll never be hungry again - no, nor any of my folks! If I have to lie, steal, cheat, or kill, as God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again."

Merry Christmas

I'm sorry I haven't posted more. I have a few updates which I have yet to put into a clear, concise thought. I will do that soon. However I did want to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. I hope Santa was very very good to you even if you were very very very naughty.

Anger Management

I very rarely get angry. Very rarely do I get so angry that I can hardly speak. The reason for this is when I get angry, I don't leave behind in Hurricane Metalchick's wake a couple of overturned chairs but my anger has far greater consequences. There is no physical mark left but a far greater consequence of leaving behind those words that will haunt a person for years to come. It is for this reason that I try to keep the tempest at bay. Unfortunately sometimes I fail. Yesterday it was a close call. A very very close call. You see, I have been trying to get in contact with my letting agent (aka person who manages the properties for rent) to finalize the letting agreement. I had phoned. I had emailed. I had already put down a 200 pound deposit. I just wanted to clarify one point. You see when I went to visit the flat (aka apartment) I had written down the address as 12 AddressStreet. But... BUT when I received the formal lease agreement it had 11 AddressStreet. An entirely different address all together! Deception really irks me. And ignoring my phone calls and emails on top of deception really really irks me to the point of no return. So yesterday, I bypassed a meeting and drove the 20 minutes into Reading to actually have a little chat with my letting agent. Eventually, after me sitting there demanding answers, I got what I wanted at the price that was promised to me and in writing. This whole move is really starting to get on my very very last nerve. I could scream. This morning I had to run for a full hour just to not yell at the next person I spoke to. And that's not me. Not me at all. I like people and I like being friendly and nice. But HOLY SHIT do I want to hurt someone right now. I can't wait for Dec 12. I can't wait can't wait. It's all i can think about!

A first...

I don't have much of a post today. But I did experience a first. (Other than my really good friend Vib) I received my first flower from a boy. Although I am not interested in dating him, it was really nice to get a flower from him. He bought me a rose at dinner the other night in Zoetermeer. It just made me feel really nice and good for a change. I've never had a boy buy me a flower or flowers. It was really nice. The end.


Apparently I have received more flowers than I remember. Vib sent them to me when I was sick and one of my other friends sent them as an apology. So this is occasion number 3 where I have received flowers from a boy. This is the first time it was intended as just a very nice thing to do for no apparent reason at all. Still very nice.

Old Country

Have you ever had one of those days? Yes. I suppose you could call it a case of the mondays if you prefer... where absolutely NOTHING... and I mean NOTHING goes your way. It's as if the gods looked down and in a callous twist of fate spite you with a simple wave of their oh soo blessed hand. Well Monday. Monday was one of those days. First let me preface this by saying that NOTHING in the UK is simple. Nothing. Even the most simple things that I take for granted are inconsistent in the UK. This is especially true for electricity. Electricity... Yes. I get power surges and have learned to protect my beloved laptop with dual power converters and a backup power supply to protect it from the ups and downs of the electricity surging through these buildings. It's no wonder Benjamin Franklin... An AMERICAN delivered after being ousted from this country. No wonder at all. I digress. Back to my spiteful day.

First things first. I am a at a bed and breakfast that also doubles as the local pub in this little tiny miniscule town called Aldermaston. (maps.google.co.uk ->aldermaston, berkshire... Then zoom out and find Reading. Yep. There I am... notice what's around me... NOTHING) There is all of 1 roundabout in this entire town and its singular claim to fame is that there is a wharf here full with a single draw bridge that congests traffic for 15 minutes! Landsakes alive it's a booming metropolis. This is where I am stuck. I am stuck at this bed and breakfast without a rental car for almost 2 days. I am told that breakfast will be served and it's free until half past 8. Great. Of course wouldn't you know it, after my 10 hour flight on Sunday, I collapsed exhausted into my bed. Of course I wake up after a very fitful and unrestful nights sleep at 8:31. GREAT. LOVELY. Thankfully there was still some prunes. yes. Prunes were still left out so that's what I had for breakfast.

After breakfast, I realize that my cell phone gets absolutely no reception here. Literally none. Not a single bar. No wonder I wasn't getting emails. GREAT. Now the rub... the wireless access that is supposed to work... doesn't work in my room. So I spend an hour walking around with my laptop trying to find a signal. Low and behold, I find the wireless access point in the BAR. yep. You got it right. In the pub that is already littered with a half dozen pub patrons.... It's 10 am PEOPLE on a MONDAY. Seriously. Get your ass to work instead of drinking into oblivion. I guess this town is even more depressing to them as it is to me. At least I have means to escape. So I sit. In the pub with my water and log in. I get on a conference call with Percy Sledge's - When a man loves a woman playing in the background and coughing up a lung as the tar from the cigarette smoke coats my ever so precious lungs. Every 15 minutes or so I am forced to take a break to breathe clean air outside in the damp English fall day.

Not to mention one of my coworkers encountered an issue and needed help with troubleshooting. So what did I have to do, stand in a single stop precariously balanced on one leg with my head out of the window to get cell reception. Yes. Picture it now. No wonder they think I'm weird. All I needed was an umbrella and a funky pair of yellow boots and I would have been ramona quiby age 8. Seriously people.

It's been a few days since that experience. It has taken me almost 3 to just get over the cell phone thing. The real kick in the pants was that I had to leave my hotel at noon to catch a flight that departed at 5:30 PM. To get to the airport, I had to take a car ride for an hour to a train station. Then wait for the train for 30 minutes (you must leave early because God forbid you don't allow for congestion on the M4). Then it was a 90 minute train ride to the airport (with one stop and wait). Of course I get to the airport about 2.5 hours before my scheduled flight because I really needed to check in and get to the airport lounge so that I could get work done... and they won't let me check in until 2 hours before the flight. @#*(^($#*^@#($*^*%#@_$*^#@_(%&^#@(^#$

Okay. Better now. Gotta love living in the OLD COUNTRY. There is a reason they call it that by the way and I am learning the hard way. Landsakes alive. I wanna go back to Texas with my sprawling lands and cows. And a puppy! If you haven't heard.... all I want for christmas is a small house and a PUPPY! I would do anything for that. Well... anything legal. so get your minds outta the gutter people. Sheesh!

Nerdy me...

I know I shouldn't find this hilarious but Foxtrot just makes me giggle. Kernel Panic!







And this reminds me of my bachelor friends! HAHAH you guys are so typical. Except for Sid Vicious... You are as always an exception to this rule.









Is it obvious that I am trying to overcompensate with funnies to avoid this huge diatribe that is building up inside of me? Hopefully everyone has a great week. I am off to Scotland for work and Brussels for fun!

YouTube rocks my socks

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3baQGb2zIY&eurl=

OMG... I can't get over this. HILARIOUS.

Now Accepting Visa!

I got my Visa today. I can now legally work in the the EU and UK. Now I have 2 days to finish up all the moving stuff and get on a plane. I am now accepting Visa!

Leaving on a jet plane....

Aarau.. AACCchhhooo!

You wouldn't believe the week I've had. I'll just give you the highlights:

Texas A&M LOST... to Texas Tech... Did I also mention that I had somehow conviniently forgotten my tickets in Austin and had to scalp some additional tickets to get into the fucking game to see us lose to TECH?

I arrived on Monday prepared to take off to Switzerland. All was good with the world with the fine exception of my laptop decided to have a hard drive failure at DFW causing me not to have any of the data or materials that I'll need for the next 2 weeks of work in Switzerland.

Tuesday I find out I have the flu, complete with sniffling, congestion, fever, and body ache. I will spare you the nitty gritty details as it's making me sick all over again.

They have mosquitos here. Lots of them. On top of everything I look like I am breaking out in hives and itching feveriously.
That's about it. But I do have a funny story for you...

Wednesday morning after yet another night of doing that sit up in bed and attempt to fitfully sleep thing, I had the brilliant idea to take a shower. a hot one. With lots of steam. So I crank up the heat. With visions of being able to breathe again dancing in my head, I tenderly step into the steaming hot shower. As I am attempting to get dressed, the most unpleasant screeching siren starts directly above my head as I realize that the steam from my shower has just set off the smoke alarm in the room. The piece de resistance of my week is having the hotel staff walk into my hotel room while I am precariously standing on the bed waving frantically at the smoke detector with one hand and attempting to keep my last shred of dignity together in this hand towel they call a towel with the other. It was not my most graceful moment to date. Of course they don't speak English. Did you know that verrückt is crazy in German? What a wonderful wealth of knowledge I am acquiring on this visit.

When it rains.... it pours

I suppose an update is way overdue with yet another debaucle of epic proportions. This story may in fact leave you exasperated, exhausted, frustrated, and disappointed. But never fear, I eventually crashed in my apartment and forgot all about my misadventures in the Netherlands.
I am a good driver. Although I drive too fast, disregard other cars in my path, and weave my way to an imaginary victory lane, I am a good driver. Really. So why is it that when I arrive in the Netherlands, suddenly I find my confidence in my ability to drive in any environment shaken like San Francisco when that quake hit during the world series? Well I'll tell you. The Dutch can't fucking drive. Well that's not really true. But they don't have the necessary requirements to actually drive a vehicle... namely... ROADS. Yes that's right, I am driving along these hallways the Dutch call roads attempting to follow the instructions spouted out to me in this condescending nasal English accent. You can imagine my frustration level in attempting to navigate my way through Dutch highways and roads succeeding only in annoying myself and causing my blood pressure to rise. I eventually make my way to the hotel only to wake up the following morning to try to drive outside of the city and into the countryside.
After driving for nearly 2 hours, I arrive at the site, do my job, and have an absolutely amazing day. (I would tell you but it's top secret. Therfore I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you.)

Approximately 7PM I start heading back after deciding that I should probably wait to have dinner in Amsterdam. Again with the twists, the turns, the U turns and the miscues. I finally make it back to my hotel only to discover that the hotel is OUT... yes that's right OUT of hotel parking. An angry, foreign, Platinum Marriott member walks up to the desk to ascertain where she is supposed to park her rental car. (in case you didn't know that's me) Livid, I am tired, frustrated, and hungry, I find out that my only option is literaly to return my rental car to the airport 30 minutes away. There isn't enough room anywhere nearby that would allow me to park the car on the side of the street. Not to mention that theft is rampant here and they don't recommend me parking a car on the street unless I wanted to discover it gone in the morning. GREAT. Just fucking GREAT.

So I drive. I drive the 30 minutes to the airport, an additional 30 minutes in a futile attempt to find a gas station, and pull into the parking lot. Defeated, tired, hungry, and nearly in tears (for those of you who know me... know I don't DO NOT cry) I ask the Hertz attendant where I can find a gas station. Recognizing how exhausted I am, he takes pity on the poor American girl and gives me directions to the nearest gas station. After filling up, returning the car, returning the neverlost, and getting on the train back into Amsterdam Central, the hunger pains make me light headed. I am starving and arrive in Amsterdam central only to discover that it's now past 11pm and all diners are CLOSED. Yes. even the hotel doesn't serve after 11pm. This is just not my day. I had a bag of M&M's from the minbar and a glass of water for dinner before heading off to bed to get up at 5am. Yes. I had to be up in 6 hours to head back to the airport via the train so that I could get delayed, fly back to Austin, have my bags lose all of their clasps, and have someone else's poorly packed perfume spilled all over my bags. Don't you love travelling?

It's my blog and I'll blog if i want to

It's my blog and I'll blog if I want to... Blog if I want to... Blog if I want to... You would blog too if it happened to you!
Okay I digress from my silliness, but really. I have very little to actually blog about so I am going to tell yet another embarrassing crazy clumsy story. On my way to RTP this week from AUS through NAS, I was on the phone. My Cell phone. Casually I am walking down the hallway at the airport in NAS when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, as if I were playing a video game and a trap was sprung before my very eyes, one of those sets of chairs pops up. And I fall. I don't just casually hit it. Oh no. Not me. I fall over it, hitting my thigh in the process and doing a summersault over the top of it. Backpack, cell phone, and legs go sprawling on the ground like a passed out drunk frat daddy at his first keg party. And of course I make such a ruckus that everyone within a 2 mile radius hears it. The air traffic control tower was even alerted to the incident! "Attention tower.. metalchick has just fallen in terminal C. She fell over a stationary object bruising her right thigh and making a huge embarrassment of herself."
On other related notes, I am heading back to my hotel to go running after a long day's afternoon here in North Carolina! I have more stories to impart about dreams soon.

Uhmm...

I have the hiccups. HICCUP! That's about it. I can't stop. It's 2 am. I am sleepy. I have been drinking for hours to drown out the fact that I AM NOT MOVING TO EUROPE YET and now I can't sleep cause I keep hiccupping. Someone stop the savagery. Peace out!


PS. I sent really bad stupid drunk text messages. I will check this post tomorrow and feel stupid. YIPPEE for Me!