Hats off the Republican Party’s crop of candidates for the presidential nomination. They are all completely batshit crazy insane to a man — and Michelle Bachmann.
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Yes folks, finally. After over six months wait I have received my driver license photocard. Bloody hell.
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Yes folks, I still have not received my California driver’s license photocard from the DMV. It’s been nearly six months since I passed my test at Fullerton DMV, and I’m still waiting patiently.
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This week I’ve been left with that warm fuzzy feeling one gets when one helps someone out. Normally the lucky recipient of kindness is a friend or family but you can also get those special moments if they appear to come out of the blue. Or more precisely in this case via the god of the modern age: Google.
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I have been settling in nicely to my new life and have just about got all the things I need to feel at home – SSN, bank accounts, credit card, store card and driver’s license.
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Big day, today. Teemu Selanne scored his 600th career NHL goal. Oh, and the US congress passed a healthcare reform bill.
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We’ve occasionally been catching a whiff of gas coming from “somewhere” in the street at the front of the house.

Being the proactive responsible types we’ve, er, ignored it until now. After all, it wasn’t that strong a smell. However, yesterday a neighbour passed by and commented that he noticed a fairly strong gas smell coming from our meter cover at the side of the roadway.

No longer in denial, Jenn grasped the nettle and called the imaginatively titled “The Gas Company” (no, really) this morning. They said someone would swing by sometime today.

Sure enough, a chap in a nice white truck called and it didn’t take him long to diagnose the problem – the pipe coming from our gas meter was corroded and leaking. Because it was our side of the meter, it was – you guessed it – our responsibility to get fixed. Bugger.

Ok, not the end of the world. These houses are fairly old and eventually things wear out and need replacing. No, the trouble was that now that the gas company knows that there’s a leak, they can’t just leave it. No, they had to turn it off. At 3pm on a Friday afternoon. Ooops.

As the gas man left he pointed out it wasn’t the best day to call them and that Monday mornings are a better time – you have the whole week to get it fixed at non-weekend rates.

So, no hot water and no heating or hob-cooking for a few days. It could have been worse – he said people call them out to check leaks on Christmas Eve and are then left with raw turkey the next day.

Update Apr 5, 2011: This is the most popular post on my blog. I know why you’re here. If you want to skip my rambling intro, just skip to the route!

If you find the info useful (or not), please share your experiences in the comments below. Good luck, test-takers!

Today has seen yet another milestone in my California adventure – namely my behind the wheel driving test.

As I have been fortunate enough to drive alone while I practice (due to my holding a UK licence), I have had plenty of opportunity to get out there on the mean streets of Fullerton. Also, a car and freedom allowed me to unashamedly stake out and stalk the DMV examiners over the past couple of weeks. I will do anything to get an edge and know no shame. In fact I became so familiar with the Fullerton DMV test route I actually knew it better than my examiner on the test day.

I’ll admit I was nervous about taking the test – I had the test mentality that one develops while learning to drive in the UK (i.e. it’s very thorough). However, due to my stalking and practice practice practice, I got through it in one piece and with only two minor errors (one of which I feel was NOT an error – clearly I was being more observant than my examiner).

Anyhoo, to reassure any Californians doing the Fullerton DMV test, let me tell you it is actually easy compared to the UK. I hear they’ve made it ‘tough’ recently and everyone’s whining about how hard it is. Well, sorry to upset you but it’s not. It was over in about 15 minutes and involved driving around mostly quiet residential streets. I had to reverse along the curb a bit, which was the extent of anything that could be remotely described as ‘difficult’.

In the UK your test would be at least twice as long and you have a number of maneuvers to undertake, which may include: parallel parking, reversing around a corner, change in direction (using forward and reverse gears), and emergency stop (no skidding). Also, each test centre has a variety of test routes, not just the one like I experienced at the DMV in Fullerton. You see, if you have only one test route, sly scamps like me easily work it out and ace the test. Duh.

So, here it is for all you wannabe drivers. Fullerton DMV test route:

• Leave DMV by turning right on to Valencia
• Cross over Euclid, continue on Valencia
• Left on to Basque
• Left on to Ash (this is where I had to pull-over and reverse along the curb. Alternatively it may be on Oak)
• Right on to Lee
• Right on to Oak
• Right on to Basque
• Left on to West
• Over Eadington
• Left on to Pacific
• Left on to Oak
• Over Eadington
• Right on to Basque
• Over Orangethorpe
• Right on to Woodcrest
• Right on to Eadington
• Right on to Orangethorpe (this is where I had to perform a lane change)
• Left on to Euclid
• Right on to Valencia
• Left into DMV

There you go, piece of cake. For those of you concerned that it is harder to pass at Fullerton DMV than other offices, I will say that if you can drive and have practiced until you are sick of driving around those streets, then you will pass. It may well be harder, but it’s still a lot easier than other countries.

Believe me, a lot of stupid people drive in the UK and they passed the ‘tough’ test. If they can do it, you can pass California’s. Anyway, if you can’t pass at Fullerton or another California DMV, you shouldn’t be driving, right?

Having been here for two months and still no sign of my social security number (SSN), action was needed.

When I originally applied for my visa, I had ticked a box requesting a number be automatically assigned to me and sent to my address. It was said to take around three weeks, but we figured as the SSN people would only have known about it after they had received the paperwork from the immigration people, it would be three weeks from then. The immigration service got my paperwork on July 23. So, three weeks from then took us to the middle of August.

Having heard nothing from them by then, I had tried calling the SS no-help line a few weeks back to find out how my application was coming along. It took me about 15 minutes to navigate the automated telephone system, during which time I was asked on a number of occasions to enter my social security number. Yes, quite.

Eventually I had spoken to a grumpy woman who told me she didn’t have any information and that I was to call the local office that would be handling my case. I was given a number to call. I was also advised that it was taking about six weeks for numbers to be allocated to new immigrants.

As we were still within that time frame, I decided more patience was in order. I put my faith in the system and sat back to wait….

… until I could wait no more. I tried calling the number I had been given only to find it not to be the SS office. So, last Monday we went down to the local social security office and took a ticket and waited. Mercifully it wasn’t a long wait, but those places are pretty grim. Everyone who works there seems a miserable bugger. Must be in the person spec for the jobs.

Anyway, when we finally spoke to someone and explained the situation, I soon was fuming. When I say fuming, in fact I was livid. Why? Because my application was not being processed. Oh, it had been started but the person doing it decided to not finish it. WTF?! Man, I was shaking with rage.

So, the lady asked me to fill out an application form and she did the necessary on the computer. I had waited over two months to get absolutely nowhere. I haven’t been able to get a driver’s license, start my business or get a store card or life insurance. All because some halfwit didn’t do their job properly.

I expect this sort of thing in the UK, but it seems I can’t escape it the other side of the Pond either.

So, still waiting for the ol’ social security number. Bored with the wait, we went to see if I could get a bank account.
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