Tuesday 14 December 2004

weird to be an immigrant

I have had my head down and running into UK red tape. Is weird to set one's self up in a new country. They have zero records of you -- for things like getting a bank account and applying for a credit card. I have also had some fun getting the UK version of a social security card -- a national insurance number. I really will not try to entertain you with the story, it was irritating even to live through. Let's just say, I have paid a visit to my friendly neighboring town, Petersborough's Immigration Advisory Council. Is weird to be an immigrant. Enlightening and kind of a pain in the arse.

I started my part-time job and am thrilled that I am excellent without exerting any brain energy. Nothing like being grossly over qualified to make a girl feel like she is consistently exceeding expectations. (May I tell him who is calling? Can I offer you something to drink? Sure, I'll book that conference room for you. Post this in the mail? No problem!) All the while, I can work on my web content, write out my xmas cards and putter about on the internet. Ahhh, and for only 2 days a week. Dreamy.

Finished my 3rd round of courses. Amazing stuff. During the course, we coach each other to practice and learn the methods and man-oh-man, let's just say, stuff shows up. It is really powerful to experience what coaching can get to the bottom of and can peel back the onion layers of a person. My classmates & I are all becoming close and really learning to walk our talk. By having this first hand experience as clients, we can speak emphatically and witness and experience serious personal growth.

Also doing some socializing with the class people -- which is manna for a socially starving person. Is reassuring that I can make friends here, and it wasn't just a fluke back home.

Looking forward to a UK Christmas -- in London. What a festive city! Each street has its own theme of lights and colors and the sidewalks (called pavement here) are teeming with shoppers and humanity. Almost makes any scrooge take a hike. The store windows are fabulous -- with fashions and shiny objects that entice me to press my face close and dream of a time I'll make an income and can buy gifts again. We'll be having Christmas luncheon in our swanky hotel -- and I am to expect a traditional feast. Not sure if that means figgy pudding or the goose that was getting fat during that "Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat ..." song. I am sure it will be heavy, calorie-filled, and worth the elastic waist pants.

Happy pre Christmas -- hope people are not too manic and making themselves crazy. Being away makes me remember how nice it can be to want a Christmas tree and snow to mark the season.

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