A taxing situation...

IN A FEW weeks I might well be flying over to San Diego.

No, not for a holiday – but to file my taxes.

‘Are you loco?’ I can hear you asking now.

Well, what else do you do to prevent yourself breaking the law?

My thinking is that it will hopefully prevent me from becoming an ‘enemy of the states (aka ‘United States’).

My attempts to resolve the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever known has resulted in this – me seriously contemplating spending £800+ just to receive a maximum of £400 back from the US Government.

 “You have a legal obligation to file your taxes,” one cock-sure-of-himself London-based ‘tax professional’ mentioned to me last week.

“Sure, and I’m pretty sure stealing from an individual is also a crime,” I replied.

That was after he suggested I pay HIM £750 for filing a State tax return – which cost me around £75 to complete last year in San Diego.

Yeh, you do the math buddy and tell me who’s the crook here…?

This whole situation has come about after I spent 12 months working in the great US of A between 2013 and 2014.

When I began working in San Diego, California, I decided to pay the maximum amount of tax possible.

The thinking – at the time – was that the more I paid, the more I’d get back at the end of the financial year in the tax return.

A sort of ‘well done me’ for saving money, I considered.

Yes, on reflection now, it’s not the advice I should have taken at the time.

In short the US Government owes me roughly $4,000 (£2,500).

And it seems it won’t give it back lightly.

If someone, or some organization, owes you money, you ask for it back.

And therein lies the problem.

I’m now in the UK trying to ask for the money back using the Inland Revenue Service or ‘IRS’ medium of a ‘tax return’.

The snag is that the US Government makes it so difficult to file said return, you end up fast losing your mind trying to do so.

Somehow I managed to use a piece of free software to file the ‘federal’ return.

Did I do it right? God knows.

I just have to wait until the IRS – (fingers crossed) writes me a letter or emails me otherwise.

Another annoyance right now is whether I file for an ‘extension of time’.

I’ve already filed the federal tax return, but what if it’s wrong? If I don’t get an extension do I lose out?! Will people get confused if I apply for an extension when I’ve already filed the return?

The hilarity in all this is the ridiculous use of the English language by the IRS.

The form is referred to as an ‘Application for Automatic Extension of Time to File U.S. Individual Income Tax Return’.

Surely if it was ‘automatic’ you wouldn’t need to apply for it in the first place…?!

Anyhow, I digress.

So yes, the ‘federal’ return is in the post ahead of the April 15^th deadline.

And that leaves me to file the ‘State’ tax return – the California state tax return.

Put simply, the State return is only a couple of pages to fill out. The problem is that I don’t actually know how to fill it in.

It’s in American-English, which to you and I in the UK is otherwise known as ‘gibberish’ or ‘gobble-dee-gook’.

‘Name and address…’ sure.

‘California adjustments – subtractions. Enter the amount from Schedule CA (540NR), line 37, column B…’ um, que?

Someone who knows what they’re doing would take the official tax documents sent to me from the State, enter a few figures, and bang three minutes later all done.

But of course, it’s not as easy as that is it? It never is.

The firm I used in the US last year to file, can’t file if I now live overseas.

And the State of California won’t let me even register on its website to file them online direct, again because I live overseas.

“Thank you for visiting the Franchise Tax Board (FTB) website.

“A nonresident is currently unable to use CalFile to file a California income tax return,” Alisha on Station 2115 handily emailed me.

Gracias.

In fact, the software which I used to file my federal return can’t file my State return because it requires me to have a US bank account, and a US bank card.

When I left the States I closed my account because I refused to pay a monthly fee for something which I’d use once in 12 months.

Oh wait, the best part…? Some ‘tax professional’ in London quoted me £750 to file the State return – even though I’ll only get back a maximum of £400.

“But you do realize you have a legal obligation…”

Oh do fuck off.

Trying to work out how to do all this incenses me so much I’ve been physically shaking with anger at times in the last six weeks.

How can people actually get away with this? How can this be right?

If it’s a criminal act to not pay your taxes surely it’s also a criminal act to harass and threaten a law-abiding taxpayer with legal consequences even when they’re trying to do the right thing.

A colleague asked me today why I’d even bother writing a blog post about all this.

“Does anyone really care?” they asked.

Well for a start, I care.

Writing this actually helps me to put this crazy situation into some perspective.

It also reassures me that the people I’m dealing with really are a bunch of numpties.

Also I’m pretty sure that somewhere down the line, this blog post will find some tired eyes looking for a distant light at the end of the black hole that is the US tax system.

If it helps them, even slightly, then this public outpouring of frustration will have all been worth it.

I’ve asked for help from supposed ‘friends’ in the US, but aside from offering up the ‘but your tax return is so easy to file…’ pearls of wisdom, they’re about as useful as a chocolate fireguard.

What do people say…? The question’s easy if you know the answer.

Well, I’m lost.

Anyone got any ideas/suggestions/ibuprofen?

Twitter: @tristan_nichols

Winter is coming...

I HAVE thick skin.

At least I do compared to my wife it seems.

I must have.

Do I need to sleep underneath TWO thick winter duvets in the middle of the British summer to fend off the cold??

I do not.

My wife it seems, does.

Over the centuries our British bodies have adjusted to living in the northern part of the world.

So our idea of a 'nice' summer, is not the same as a North American's idea of a 'nice' summer.

For about five minutes in August, when the old Victorian house was so warm that no amount of open windows or doors would shift the heat, Jacks was happy and content.

Even our chili plants were happy (who knew you could REALLY grow chilis here? In Devon??)

This WAS summer.

But this was not actually summer.

This was in fact an anomaly. A climatical mirage if you like.

For the two months gearing up to us moving to the UK I pre-warned her of the "cold, damp, fairly miserable conditions" which she should be prepared for on a "daily" basis - basically "year round".

It became a running joke when we were watching the HBO series 'Game of Thrones'.

When we heard the slogan "winter is coming" I said: "It is... when we move to England".

When we found out we were actually moving back to the 'shire (that's Devonshire – not Hobbit-land) we set about preparing Jacks for nothing she had ever experienced before.

We visited store after store in San Diego trying to find something called a 'coat'.

No luck.

"You need to visit a different state for that... maybe Alaska, or the East coast maybe?" store staff would suggest with a wry smile.

"Why would WE need coats here?!"

Fair one. With a year-round average of 21.5 degrees Celsius in Southern California why would you need a winter coat?

So I prepared my wife for the worst, we jumped on a plane at the tail end of April and what happens…? We experience one of the best summers in years with 'above average' temperatures month after month.

It was so nice and warm and lovely that day after day we were blessed with glorious sunshine.

It got to the stage where we didn't actually need a forecast because everyday seemed to be the same day after day.

Our chili plants re-flowered, every day seemed to be a 'beach day' and people began to smile more (as they only do when its sunny).

Let it grow, let it grow, let it grow

Feeling the heat - another of our very happy chili plants

Chili farmer

But then in the space of what seemed to be just a few hours, it appeared to get darker with the nights drawing in; our chili plants half died; I grabbed my brolly (that’s umbrella for you guys outside the UK); and Christmas decorations, treats and adverts began appearing in local stores and on the TV.

The view at Tesco - never one to miss a trick (Sept 9th)

So now the true shock is about to settle in for my Mexican wife.

As the storm clouds gathered over our Plymouth home, I declared: "This IS England".

Incoming... the view over Plymouth Sound

The view a few minutes later...

"When's it going to be warm and sunny again," I can hear her asking in a few days, if not minutes.

Um... 2015... maybe in May...2015?

Yes, you try telling a Latin girl that that's it for a while. Show's over.

The sun is on holiday for a bit.

In San Diego there's a saying that goes: "May grey, June gloom".

That saying doesn't actually mean it's going to rain.

Californians are just weird.

It means it'll be 23 instead of 25. Oh, and it'll be a tad cloudy.

I'm not sure what the saying is here... "summer (usually) shit, autumn (generally) bleak, winter downright evil?"

For the seasoned Brits these seasons are a piece of cake.

Step one: Pack up the board shorts, 90 per cent of t-shirts, flip flops and sunglasses. Oh, and the factor 30 sun block you didn't use.

Step two: Unpack the hoodies, jeans, down jackets and gloves and scarves.

Simple: Change summer wardrobe for winter wardrobe.
As Oscar Wilde wrote: "Wisdom comes with winters".
It goes with the territory.

If there's one way to test the resilience of a wife and all that "for better or for worse" jazz then it's this.

Batten down the hatches sweetheart, I'll introduce you to a seasonal friend we call 'central heating'.

Update - Oct 13th - 7.15pm.
Jacks' first ever experience of central heating. Remarkable.
I think she'll be sleeping here in the hallway tonight.

That warm fuzzy feeling

Follow me on Twitter: @tristan_nichols

The great chili hunt

IT took all of five minutes after landing on British soil for Jacky to ask the question: “So… where can we buy chilis?”

Shit got serious minutes after.

Now, readers of this blog may well comment on the fact that I/we talk about ‘chili’ a lot. However nothing is more apparent now in our everyday lives than the apparent lack of heat/spice.

I think I felt the same way when I had my Star Wars toys taken away from me as a child after bullying my brother.

Somehow the Tesco ‘mixed chilis’ pack just doesn’t cut it.

Sure you can get jalapenos in a tin, but apparently it’s just not good enough.

And so begins the great chili hunt.

Just days after arriving back in the UK we began trawling the aisles of high-street supermarkets, corner shops, delicatessens, and even farmers markets.

While Jacks let out a yelp of glee at finding chilis, tortillas and other Mexican-related foods at the supermarket, nothing really completely ticks the box.

Joy

Further joy

The look of happiness says it all...

'Very hot' chilis

Chili powder - check

'Sweet' tortillas

The ‘guajillo’ chili – to this day, just over a week after arriving back in England – still eludes us.

Any ideas anyone?!

On one instance this past week I caught Jacky watching a YouTube video on how to make a toffee apple… only with tamarindo and chili rather than toffee.

“Mmmmmm… tacos…” Jacks soon after remarked on seeing a friend’s Facebook post and them devouring the dish.

Our circumstances may have changed dramatically, however mi esposa’s love of chili has not.

It’s only when you’ve been away from the UK for a while that you realize just how different our palates are.

Everything in the UK somehow just tastes sweeter.

Food in the US is incredibly unhealthy, notably for its salt/sugar content.

Eating a bag of chips (crisps) you need a glass of water to make it to the bottom.

But here, everything does appear to taste sweeter (which may well be the reason why Americans think that every Brit has ‘bad teeth’).

The look of pure disgust on Jacky’s face when she bit into an El Paso tortilla a couple of days ago said it all really.

She even remarked on how sweet Doritos taste. And she’s right.

Of course some things are always going to be sweet – and they’re admittedly all the better for it.

You can’t go wrong with a large dollop of jam and clotted cream on a scone. Right?

The controversial cream tea

However, in the process of preparing a scone and uploading a picture of the joyous occasion on Facebook, we started somewhat of an age-old debate about the whole ‘cream or jam first’.

Cornish = jam first.

Devonshire = cream first.

I have to say, controversially, I’m firmly in the ‘cream first’ camp.

Jacks is still undecided.

Further joy has been evident in re-discovering our love of crumpets.

Wowzers. If the rest of the world hasn’t cottoned on yet they’re clearly missing a trick.

Seeing your wife’s face light up at the sight of a freshly toasted crumpet is something to behold.

And a traditional roast dinner…? I.n.c.r.e.d.i.b.l.e.

It’s the simple things which make life better. And food makes EVERYTHING better.

Like eating a good Chinese takeaway for instance.

We take it for granted here in the UK but overseas… well, it’s a different story.

Last year, shortly after first arriving in San Diego, I Googled the words ‘good Chinese takeaway San Diego’.

Seconds later a few gazillion results were found. The first on the list… “there are NO good Chinese takeaways in San Diego”.

Fact.

And boy, Google was right.

With such a high density of Asians in San Diego, it’s bizarre that Chinese food can be SO bad over there.

So yes, food (and the lack of traditional Mexican chili) has been one of the main talking points and features of our return.

The last few days of our time in California has also been the topic of much discussion.

The visa application/notice at work etc seemed to be going so slowly and then – as fate would have it – everything sped up like a runaway train.

Jacks’ visa arrived in the post, and so began the fervent last minute ‘goodbyes’ and subsequent packing.

I have to admit that we actually started packing months ago. At least I did.

When we knew our time was coming to an end in San Diego I set the wheels in motion for our exit.

And, in the process of doing so, I realized a few further differences between here and there.

You see if you want to sell something second-hand in the UK you list it in the back of a newspaper or on a website.

Things generally take a while to sell, and you may never get a phone call - hence my decision to advertise the things we were selling early.

But I have to tell you, that process in the US is COMPLETELY different.

Within seconds of advertising bits on the website, ‘Craigslist’, people begin phoning.

They come round and they begin asking about other bits you have in the apartment – including things that aren’t actually for sale.

And of course, they also generally offer a 100^th of the advertised price.

Still, my naivity of this process caught us out.

Try explaining to your wife where the TV/sofa/stools/TV cabinet/desk/and kitchen utensils and appliances have gone… two months before you’re due to move out!

It’s fair to say I wasn’t in the best books for a while…

Still, I stand by my thinking: Clear the apartment so we know what we have left to take to the UK.

As anyone who’s been in the situation will know, condensing and collecting an ENTIRE apartment into a few suitcases is not easy – especially when your wife is Mexican, and she doesn’t know what the climate at the end destination will actually be like.

Girls really don’t get the concept of packing. Clearly.

At one point I had to remind her: “Um, they do have shops in the UK…”

Yes, this comment didn’t get my out of the bad books.

Knowing that we were facing a fairly hefty excess baggage charge, I attempted to ship a few bits back.

Bad idea. Airline excess baggage fees for up to 23kgs = $100.

One small box containing a couple of books and a picture frame = $180+.

Shipping news

Go figure.

Someone’s clearly making a lot of money.

So in the end we managed to bag everything up ready for our departure.

To this day I’m still not sure how we a). acquired so much stuff in so little time; and b). actually fit all that stuff into our suitcases.

Two years ago I arrived with a guitar and a bag of T-shirts and board shorts.

The day we left… five suitcases, a guitar, an iMac, two additional bags and other bits.

Some of our luggage...

The woman at the check-in desk looked ready to have a fit.

I just gave her my credit card, and then very nearly cried.

And fitting everything in my father’s Volkswagen Golf at the other end…? I personally think we broke some sort of record with that feat.

So yes, we’re back. And it’s beautiful. And Jacks is clearly very happy which makes me happy.

Say what you want about the rainfall in the UK but without it, it wouldn’t look so lovely and green.

Now… where did I leave the brolly ('umbrella' to those outside the UK)?

Twitter: @tristan_nichols