First of all, I should say that the really extra good news about going home already on the 10th of December, is that the "Wienerland shopping program" will be severely curtailed, and I will no longer be pressed into service once we get back home to be the cheery co-shopper. That particular torch will be passed off to one of my sisters-in-law.
For this I am truly thankful.
On this side of the pond however, I'm the chosen one. That's all I'm willing to offer about my take on shopping. You may be able to read between the lines.
There was a plan afoot to head down to the centre of town to partake in the joy of this thing called "Christmas shopping", and at first I had this bright idea to take the car, since it's not one of those Saturdays just yet.
I realise that we're ever so slightly spoiled, but I just prefer to have my own little space, (my own recently vacuumed space, I might add) and have no real qualms about either sitting in traffic a bit, or paying a few Euros extra for parking. It's already over €7 for the two of us to go and return on the U-Bahn, so for a little bit more, or sometimes not, we can go by car.
I should point out that, when forced to take public transit I do not:
1) Care to hear what ever is blaring out of your ear buds that you seem to think is music. 2) Wish to smell you.
3) Wish to be part of some one sided conversation you just had to have at that precise moment on your cell phone.
Or best of all....4) I don't want to see any parts of your body that should be tucked neatly away in your underwear!
No dangling participles! Thank-you.
Should I go on? I think you get the idea. I like my (own) space.
This is a glimpse of the mob scene around Stephansplatz. I was actually more taken with the Christmas decorations, and I'm sure I could have taken gobs more photos of the crowds.
You'll just have to take my word for it.
So it's a good thing I had a moment of clarity there, and we ended up taking the U-Bahn, since we quite likely wouldn't have been able to get home anyway. At least not right away.
There was a lovely demonstration right at the one way street we need to go down to be able to put the car put away. Something to do with cruelty to animals. Don't know. Don't care.
I just sure as hell hope they have to get a permit, that's all.
Once again, getting home expeditiously has something to do with going to the bathroom, and if the internal bathroom timer has been set off, then there's really and truly only so much time before well, the time has run out.
Thankfully the elevator has been working faithfully for some time now...
Today's exciting although brief adventure had us once again going to the Immigration office to get our residence permits renewed. Really though, it wasn't very exciting, not much of an adventure, and not overly brief.
There's been a certain amount of, oh I don't know, frustration with the whole procedure, since the very smart relocation company whose office is somewhere in Texas (and I'm just going to let that speak for itself) were supposed to get the ball rolling on this a couple months ago.
Nothing happened. No surprise there.
Finally not too long ago, Travelling Companion sent out a note to the lawyers up in Belgium (and that's just as absurd, I know) asking just what the hell? and so, after a flurry of emails and a couple phone calls on my part (like I really want to get involved) we had our visit this morning.
Here's how it works: The lawyer is supposed to meet us there, with copies of all the "stuff" that we've provided for him. That would be: Copies of passports. Copies of some sort of statement saying we do in fact pay rent. Copies of proof that Travelling Companion is getting paid to work here. Copies of the insurance coverage saying we're basically not sucking on the Austrian health care teat.
And a couple new photos.
I think that's it.
Then they take this information and they put it on a couple forms. Good thing we checked the forms, since somebody doesn't know how to copy down information.
Fine.
Then we each sign our respective forms in about nine places.
I think the thing that I found just ever so slightly annoying was that the lawyer was LATE. You may recall my view on "late"? Not keen.
Unfortunately, this falls into the category of "active bullshit", as opposed to "passive bullshit". Nothing to be done. He was only about 10 minutes late, but in those ten minutes we had already made our way up to the counter to get our number.
Here's the thing, even though I very clearly said we were there to renew our Residence Permits, the turd behind the counter seemed to think we had to go to City Hall.
Huh?
At first he started babbling away in German to Travelling Companion, which of course meant that I was the one answering the questions, then pointing out that she spoke very little German, so what's he do?
He just speaks slower.
Like that helps.
So the big question is, in that instance, do you argue with an "official"?
Sadly.
Yes.
Turns out he also had the brains of a turd, and once he looked up something or other on his computer, he proceeded to give us our ticket.
That's all I wanted! Thank-you there Mr.Turd!
It's a similar idea to when you get your passport, you first line up to get a ticket, then you go to another area to watch and wait for your number. Our number was up by the time we made it to the fifth floor, so lawyer dude did have to eat a little crow there, and apologise to the young lady at the desk for our "lateness".
Hey, we were already lined up outside at 7:40, so I figured I sure as hell wasn't going to offer any apologies.
So the money has been paid. Everything submitted, and we can pick up our new cards on the second of December.
Wondering if I should start a pool on the exact time lawyer dude will show up. Hmmm?
Today's magic number is 18.
.
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Well, I've been getting too many spam comments showing up. Just a drag, so we'll go another route and hope that helps. So, we won't be hearing anything more from Mr. Nony Moose.
I guess I'll just have to do without that Gucci purse.