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

Traditions, and the war against the cold

Meet 'Teddy'.

This 8-inch-tall furry fellow is my Mexican wife's latest weapon in the war against the British winter.

If having three duvets on the bed at night isn't enough (with Jacks more often than not wearing her down coat to sleep), we now share our space with a cute Teddy covered hot water bottle.

Naked Teddy

And winter has only just begun.

Since arriving from San Diego/Tijuana seven months ago it's fair to say we've invested heavily in combating the onslaught of a traditional British winter.

Jacks has never experienced one before.

This time last year we were preparing our Thanksgiving meal in board shorts and t-shirts whilst contemplating heading to the beach at the weekend.

This time last year Jacks had never heard of 'central heating' or 'hot water bottles'.

This year, right now, we're donning hats and scarves in the house, and seriously contemplating hibernating until the spring.

In the last month my wife has well and truly discovered the joys of shopping – notably in charity shops.

So much so that I'm also contemplating buying a bigger house just to accommodate her new 'wardrobe'.

Jacks arrived here in the UK in May with one thin San Diego-style jacket/coat (i.e. a cardigan).

By my count she now has eight 'proper' coats. Oh, and enough scarves to shake a stick at.

In the last few weeks we've properly experienced some very English traditions as a couple – Bonfire Night being one.

Our friends in Mexico and San Diego have been asking us: "What the hell is going on in those pictures?! "

Bonfire Night on Plymouth Hoe

Simple, that is to someone from these shores.

Guy Fawkes night.

Traditions are weird right? I mean, when you're from a different area of the world experiencing something for the first time.

What one culture thinks is perfectly normal, another finds completely weird – bordering on bonkers.

In Mexico they have the ’Dia De La Muerta’ (’Day of the Dead’) during which dead people’s lives are celebrated.

At first I thought that fairly weird – not least wandering into a Mexican supermarket in downtown Tijuana to be greeted by a full-sized altar complete with skulls and cobwebs.

But after being told what it’s all about (celebrating the lives of those who've passed) it didn’t seem so sinister.

However, you try explaining the tradition of Guy Fawkes night…

"Well, you throw an effigy of a ’man’ (or 'guy') onto a fire, and everyone stands around watching it slowly burn generally while having a good time. "

Cue confused, (almost frightened) look.

"It's a real family occasion," I said now desperately trying to convince Jacks that it's not really that weird.

"People come from all around... thousands in fact. They have fireworks and everything!"

Plenty of 'oohs and ahhhs' going on here...

They even have sparklers!

"Remind me of the story of Bonfire Night," Jacks asked me by now looking more perplexed.

"Well… some guy called Guy Fawkes (who apparently was a bit of bastard), tried to blow up the Houses of Parliament in ffuuuussssbvvvvv um… – anyway, the date doesn’t matter.

"They caught him, and they burned him alive, thus creating the reference throwing a 'guy' on the fire."

When you consider it, our tradition is much more sinister-sounding than the 'Dia de la Muerta' right?

So anyway, it's cold here and it's only going to get colder.

I keep asking Jacks if she's still 'happy' here.

She hasn't said 'no' yet so I think I've found a keeper.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

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