Musings of an Englishman who literally quit his life in Devon in mid-2012 to move to Tijuana to love a girl.
They ended up in San Diego where he became a TV anchorman (yes really...), they got married, and now they're living in England together.
Simple as that really.
Follow your heart, who knows where it will lead.

Crazy. Beautiful. Madness.
Showing posts with label ibuprofen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ibuprofen. Show all posts

Monday, 13 April 2015

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 15th 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


Saturday, 29 June 2013

Don't wanna be an American idiot


IT’S stupid-o-clock. It’s some time between 2am and 2.30am and I can’t sleep.
I probably would have been able to sleep had I not incorrectly set the air conditioning/thermostat thing to ‘ludicrous’ heat before settling into bed.
My dreams began peaceful and placid and slowly progressed to being infinitely weird and hell-like.
You know those dreams where you’re parched and desperately trying to find something to drink? You got it, times infinity.
Air conditioning is admittedly something I’ve never been able to get my head around.
I mean, hailing from England how or why the hell would I know how to operate an air conditioning unit?
All I’ve ever done is light gas fires to combat the freezing winters.
Air conditioning? Pfah.
Where I come from ‘air conditioning’ is opening or closing a window. Or asking your flatulent friend to leave the room.
Holidays in Egypt… that’s what air conditioning is designed for for us Brits.
So yes, I can’t sleep. My bedroom, and in fact my entire apartment, is currently a blazing furnace.
I’m in a state of undress with sweat dripping from my brow onto the keyboard. Ewww…
It’s warmer in here than it is in the desert on a summer’s day.
I hear you… ‘open the windows’ and ‘stop whingeing’!
They’re open. And it’s really warm outside. Even at stupid-o-clock.
San Diego, it seems, doesn’t do ‘chilly’.
It’s actually so warm here throughout each and every day, that the city’s parks and recreational spaces boast an unbelievable amount of tramps – or ‘bums’ as they’re called here.
They’re largely harmless. They just sit around sleeping, acting weird occasionally if anyone offers them a glance.
It’s like a year-round bum summer camp. And we’re their entertainment.


Honesty deserves charity

Anyhow I digress.
As I write this I’m also Googling the bloody air-con unit instruction manual in the hope that I can rest easy tonight without the sleep/sauna detox.
I might talk the talk and walk the walk but there is no doubt, here in the U.S. I am a still a stranger in a foreign land – just as much as I was in next-door Tijuana.
I’m daily misunderstood, and often confused.
In the nine weeks that I’ve been here in San Diego I can tell you that Americans are a fascinating bunch.
Oh and in case you didn’t know, they are crazily open and honest about health and religion.
These are two things that people here love to talk about openly.
These are two things that we Brits never really talk about when we’re in the UK.
We have a funny way of avoiding discussions concerning our illnesses, ailments, and of course religious leanings.
Personally I’m not really comfortable talking about either – especially with someone I’ve just met.
“What do you take?” I was asked recently.
“When?”
“Now? Nothing, I feel fine”.
Again: “Seriously... what do you take?”
Me: “Uh… aspirin or ibuprofen for a headache… a ‘Lemsip’ if I’ve got a cold…?”
“Aha…”
*cue long lingering stare*
“And…?”
*stare continues*
“And… nothing… I don’t take anything. Nothing to get me through the day, nothing to help me sleep, nothing.”
“Isn’t that weird?” I was then asked.
“What REALITY?”
It’s only when you go to a supermarket (otherwise known here as a ‘grocery store’) that you begin to appreciate the national obsession with remedies.

Drugs - 'aisle' buy that for a dollar!

Shelves and aisles of pills and potions to cure everything from headaches and sports injuries, to sleep deprivation and toothaches. There are pills for things I’ve never heard of.
And natural remedies featuring seemingly unnatural-sounding ingredients.

'
'D3 5000 I.U.'....? Isn't that a brand of motor oil?

Sure, we have pharmacies in England but wow.
I’m sure there’s actually medication for medication here.
When you’re seen to be new to town religion is the other big talking point.
Within seconds of meeting some people they’ll ask you if you go to church and if you want to go to their church.
I always consider that I must have sinned during the conversation leading up to that point and that they’re trying to cleanse my soul as a result.
I immediately feel uncomfortable and I try to joke my way out of it.
Bad move.
So forgive me.
The actual process of greeting someone here in California (or indeed the U.S.) also confuses me on a daily occurrence.
Rather than simply offering a hardy handshake or a pat on the back, people here seem obsessed with a greeting known as ‘fist-bumping’ – or variations of it.

Bump day

How the pros do it

It’s basically the action of putting out your fist for someone else to ‘bump’ with their own fist.
I’ve observed plenty of Californians doing it here and I must admit, they look cool.
I however, do not.
There are simply too many variations for me to get my head around.
There’s the actual fist bump. Then there’s the high-five. And there’s some of other part-handshake part-grip thing.
And these are just three of the more popular types of greetings.
And for me, who is new to town and the whole fist-bump thing, I panic when someone puts out their fist or hand because I don’t know which greeting they’re planning on using.
It’s always an awkward moment and, despite the fact that the whole thing is supposed to look and feel ‘cool’, I don’t. I can almost feel my coolness dripping away as and when someone puts out their hand for the bump , or slap, or whatever.
I always hesitate.
Once or twice I admit, I’ve pretty much just thought ‘bollocks to it’ and shaken the outstretched bump fist.
Epic fail.
I actually freak out that one day I’m going to face-palm someone by accident.
So I’ve taken to YouTube to try and teach myself some basic rules…
Anyhow. People are strange when you’re a stranger right?

Hey, I noticed my last blog post was popular in Latvia.
Bizarre, but very cool. Welcome Latvians!
At the bottom of this blog is a ‘translate’ icon if anyone wants to read it in a different language.
I can’t promise my ramblings will make any more sense but hey.
Thanks for lending me your eyes.

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