Asti's birthday was yesterday and she had a get together for drinks at the George. Alan and I went and had a surprisingly good time. (Surprising because Alan was concerned that we'd be out of place with everyone so much younger than us. It turned out fine, programers are programers regardless.)

The George was an interesting pub to visit in any case.

You can read about The George here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_George_Inn,_Southwark

Anyway, we had a nice time chatting with Asti and her friends, a few of whom we knew from ACCU. Tati, Asti's neighbor from Basel flew over for the weekend so it was very nice to see her again.

We lucked out going home. Our leisurely stroll to the London Bridge tube station (only about 1 block really) was perfect timing. The Jubilee line train arrived almost immediately and got us to Waterloo station in a few minutes. Thinking we had a really long wait at Waterloo for the Isleworth train, we took our time making our way to the platform and voila! There was a train waiting there just about to depart. Kismet! We hopped on and 35 pleasant minutes later were getting off for the brief walk home.

Friday night was the start of August Bank Holiday weekend and several of our neighbours were still holding parties in their back gardens. The music wasn't loud enough to prevent our falling asleep so all in all a really pleasant evening.

The job search goes on. Nightmare.
Alan comes home from work and asks why am I sitting in the dark. It's not really dark, I just haven't turned on the lights. I'm still at my computer searching for and applying for jobs and there's enough light for that. I'm at the point where everything is now superfluous except hunting for a job. It's a race against time and money - both are running out. Perhaps have run out.
I have an interview on Wednesday, still applying for jobs, tho.

Job hunting is possibly the loneliest, most depressing thing there is to do. Soul destroying. You are putting yourself on the slave block and doing your best to sell yourself. Hoping someone will pick you. And each time you fail, you have no recourse but to smile, smile, smile, and do it all again.

One of the worst aspects of the ugly process is the sheer insanity of the reasons given for some rejections. I've been told I was too interesting, too bright, too work focused! Because the workplace culture here is more good enough and jobsworth, my Amercian values of hard work and can do, get it done might make co-workers uncomfortable.

Arrrgh! How do you make yourself seem stupider and lazier?

This week's winner of the most frustrating job interview is actually reasonably good but just frustrating. I've made it through the first interview and was called back for the short list, so to speak. Met with them again, including an additional higher up. That seemed to go ok, but there's no real way to know. It's all a guessing game. I'll know how well I impressed them if they call me back to come in for the final meeting they plan for this Friday. It's go-no go at this point. If I get that call back, I'll probably get this job. If not, not. So it's a get through each frustrating day wait now to see. Very, very stressful. This job is really a good match for me, the company is a great match for me. I like the people I've met, like their style and I think we'd work well together.

We'll see if they think so soon.

Stay tuned for more news as it happens. Same bat time, same bat channel.

Why Stereotypes are

So there were the French, you remember the French don't you? Those brave, honest people who condemned Dryfus because he was a Jew, and who volunteered to round up even the babies for the Nazis. Those people who -all- claim to have been in the resistance in WWII. Yes, those French, yes, the ones who actually invented the Inquisition (the Spanish only copied the French invention).

And now those lovely people, the French, led the call for a UN body of international troops to occupy Southern Lebanon and guarantee a ceasefire. The French have always insisted that they were the masters of diplomacy, the diplomats par excellence. They haven't been for over a century but why let facts intrude in nationailistic bombast. So there they were, charging to the fore, trying to regain their position as a real player, one of the big boys - declaring that they, the French, would lead the effort, their glorious French troops would show the way for all of us.

Big Talk. Big, big talk. The number 15,000 troups was mentioned. The number 4000 French troops immediately as the cornerstone was mentoioned, and more to follow.

And what do they do in the end? They send a team of 200 engineers. Huh? Engineers? What happened to the soldiers, mon ami?

From Reuters-
NEW YORK, 19 August (IRIN) - After the disappointing commitment by France of only 200 engineers to the newly tasked United Nations peacekeeping force in Lebanon, UN Deputy Secretary-General Mark Malloch Brown appealed to the rest of Europe to provide troops for a "robust" force.

And -
German Chancellor Angela Merkel announced in a statement on Thursday that Germany was set to send customs officials.

Oh beauty! Is this not right out of Saturday Night Live?

Stereotypes are, they simply are because they are.

Choucroute!

I'm watching a really excellent show on Alsace and at the moment they are showing how to cook the regional specialty Choucroute. We've made this dish in our family for decades but watching the original made in its home stamping grounds is interesting and instructional.

I love Alsace- beautiful, beautiful area. Lovely people, lovely wine, lovely food. I miss it. I need a car so I can drive there with Alan and wander around the vinyards and little villages and sit at a cafe table sipping local wine and ummmmmmmmm

Federation II

Wow - a player created this little video about Alan's game: Federation II.

Plot to blow up aircraft flying from UK was "intended to be mass murder on an unimaginable scale," police spokesman says.

From CNN - London's Metropolitan Police said a months-long intelligence operation by the anti-terrorist branch and security service resulted in several arrests overnight, according to a Scotland Yard news release.

The aim of the alleged plot was to explode devices carried aboard planes in handheld luggage -- especially on flights from Britain to the United States, according to Scotland Yard.

***Right, and what do we learn from this? What lessons has the West learned from the unending terrorist suicide bombing jihad?

Nothing.

This is a cultural war and there is no compromise in sight nor will there be. In a sense, the Muslim terrorists are correct, the West is decadent - we tolerate them, we tolerate the unending threats and attacks. We tolerate changes to our chosen way of life, we tolerate losses to our fundamental Freedoms. We are being very stupid and I'm very afraid we will pay the price.

Beyond all else, as a woman, there is no acceptable place for me in a fundamentalist Muslim world. Don't tell me there are moderate Muslims. I don't see them crying out against terrorists and suicide bombings and jihad. All I see is them gathering in to support the destruction of Israel and the West. When I see the leaders of Islamic nations stand up in the UN and unilaterally denounce Islamic terrorists without reservation, when I see them break off diplomatic relations with all nations and groups that support this terrorism, then I will begin to believe again.

This truly tears at my heart. I worked for 8 years with Egyptians and other Arabic nationals and it was one of the best experiences of my life. They were good people, kind hearted, generous. We had years of excellent discussions between myself as an Amercian, female, Jew and they as Arab, Muslim men - and deeply religious Muslims at that. And it was always that we, Muslims and Jews were family, shared a common religous point of view of life in contrast to Christians. There was never any hate or intolerance. So where does this insanity spring from?

I think the problem is that Islam never went through a Reformation period, never endured the fires of intellectual enlightenment. So in many or most of Islamic populations, the culture is that which was acceptable 1000 years ago. It's not acceptable now.

Perhaps I was just lucky to work with such a wonderful group of Egyptians. I'm grateful for the many years I worked with them. But I also think it was because they had chosen to come to America, to persue the American Dream for themselves and their children. That was their own personal reformation that gave them a different perspective on life and life's priorities.

It's a sad time and a sad state of things in the world. The West needs to put its collective foot down and say NO to the Islamic bullies. Just say No.

Barbara Byro
and
Alan Lenton
are pleased to announce their wedding
on Saturday, August 5, 2006
at 12 noon
Cloverly House, Hounslow

"There's now a 48-hour cease-fire going on in the Middle East. Israel will stop attacking Hezbollah. But, Hezbollah will not necessarily agree to stop attacking Israel. Hey, we can't even get Mel Gibson to stop attacking Israel."
--Jay Leno

"A Lesson To Be Learned"

When I was in the Navy, I once witnessed a bar fight in downtown Olongapo
(Philippines) that still haunts my dreams.  The fight was between a big
oafish bar bully and a rather soft-spoken, medium sized Latino sailor from
my ship.

All evening the bully had been trying to pick a fight with one of us and
had finally set his sights on this diminutive shipmate of mine... figuring
him for a safe target.  When my friend refused to be goaded into a fight
the moron sucker punched him from behind on the side of the head so hard
that blood instantly started to pour from this poor man's mutilated ear.
Everyone present was horrified and was prepared to absolutely murder this
guy, but my shipmate quickly turned on him and began to single-handed
back him towards a corner with a series of stinging jabs and upper cuts
that gave more than a hint to a youth spent boxing in a small gym in the
Bronx.

Each punch opened a cut on the bully's startled face and by the time he
had been backed completely into the corner he was blubbering for someone
to stop the fight.  He invoked his split lips and chipped teeth as reasons
to stop the fight.  He begged us to stop the fight because he could barely
see through the river of blood that was pouring out of his split and
swollen brows.

Nobody moved.  Not one person.

The only sound in the bar was the sickening staccato sound of this
sailor's lightning fast fists making contact with new areas of the guy's
head.  The only sound I have heard since that was remotely similar was
from the first Rocky film when Sylvester Stallone was punching sides of
beef in the meat locker.

Finally the bully's pleading turned to screams.... a high, almost womanly
shriek.   And still the punches continued relentlessly.

Several people in the bar took a few tentative steps as though they wanted
to try to break it up at that point, but hands reached out from the crowd
and held them tight.  I'm not ashamed to say that mine were two of the
hands that held someone back.

You see, in between each blow the sailor had begun chanting a soft
cadence: "Say [punch] you [punch] give [punch] up [punch]... say [punch]
you [punch] were [punch] wrong [punch]".

He had been repeating it to the bully almost from the start but we only
became aware of it when the typical barroom cheers had died down and we
began to be sickened by the sight and sound of the carnage.

This coward stood there shrieking in the corner of the bar trying futilely
to block the carefully timed punches that were cutting his head to
tatters.. right down to the skull in places. But he refused to say that he
gave up... or that he was wrong.

Even in the delirium of his beating he believed in his heart that someone
would stop the fight before he had to admit defeat.  I'm sure this
strategy had served him well in the past and had allowed him to continue
on his career as a barroom bully.

Finally, in a wail of agony the coward shrieked  "I give up", and we
gently backed the sailor away from him.

I'm sure you can guess why I have shared this story today.
I'm not particularly proud to have been witness to such a bloody
spectacle, and the sound of that bully's woman-like shrieks will haunt me
to my grave.  But I learned something that evening that Israel had better
learn for itself if it is to finally be rid of at least one of its tormentors:

This is one time an Arab aggressor must be allowed to be beaten so badly
that every civilized nation will stand in horror, wanting desperately to
step in and stop the carnage... but knowing that the fight will only truly
be over when one side gives up and finally admits defeat.
Just as every person who had ever rescued that bully from admitting defeat
helped create the cowardly brute I saw that evening in the bar, every
well-intentioned power that has ever stepped in and negotiated a ceasefire
for an Arab aggressor has helped create the monsters we see around us
today.

President Lahoud of Lebanon, a big Hezbollah supporter and a close ally of
Syria, has been shrieking non-stop to the UN Security Council for the past
two days to get them to force Israel into a cease fire.

Clearly he has been reading his autographed copy of 'Military Success for
Dummies Arab Despots' by the late Gamal Abdel Nasser of Egypt.  Ever since
Nasser accidentally discovered the trick in '56, every subsequent Arab
leader has stuck to his tried and true formula for military success:
Instigate a war.

Once the war is well underway and you are in the process of having your
ass handed to you... get a few world powers to force your western opponent
into a cease fire.

Whatever you do, don't surrender or submit to any terms dictated by your
enemy.  That would ruin everything!  All you have to do is wait it out and
eventually the world will become sickened at what is being done to your
soldiers and civilian population... and will force a truce.

Once a truce has been called you can resume your intransigence (which
probably caused the conflict in the first place), and even declare victory
as your opponent leaves the field of battle.

This tactic has never failed.  Not once.

In fact it worked so will for the Egyptians in 1973, that to this day they
celebrate the Yom Kippur War - a crushing defeat at the hands of Israel -
as a military victory!  No kidding... it's a national holiday over there!

President Lahoud  has already begun to shriek  like a school girl to the
UN Security Council to "Stop the violence and arrange a cease-fire, and
then after that we'll be ready to discuss all matters."

Uh huh.  Forgive me if I find that a tad hard to swallow.  He allowed
Hezbollah to take over his country.  He allowed the regular Lebanese
army to provide radar targeting data for the Hezbollah missile that
struck the Israeli destroyer  He has turned a blind eye while Iranian
and Syrian weapons, advisers and money have poured into his country.

And now that his country is in ruins he wants to call it a draw.

As much as it may sicken the world to stand by and watch it happen,
strong hands need to hold back the weak-hearted and let the fight
continue until one side finally admits unambiguous defeat.

Forwarded by

Dan Sorkin

"The world is a dangerous place to live
not because of the people who are evil,
but because of the people who don't do
anything about it."
-- Albert Einstein

Last night I sent out(emailed) the invites to the wedding and the celebration parties which will be held in NYC and London in Nov. Got a lot of rsvp responses already. The parties should be great fun. We'll have the NYC one at our favorite - Capsuto Freres. I haven't figured out where to have the London party since there's no real equivalent to Capsuto Freres here except in the exhorbitantly and insanely expensive category. We'll see what I find that combines great food with a stylish venue.

In the Be Thankful For Small Favors dept -

Yesterday I managed to see my son Adam briefly, fleetingly, on his way to the airport to fly back to NYC. (This was wrong, deeply wrong, we should have had at least a few hours to relax together over coffee and chat) Anyway, I was happy to see him and give him a hug, and probably more important to him, a much needed laptop. I had no idea he was without a computer.

So I expected he would arrive at JFK in due course where his father and brother Andrew would meet him in Adam's car and drive him back to Tom's apt. What I did not expect was a SMS Text message from Adam telling me he landed safely at JFK to discover that his car was stolen!

Per Andrew, Tom had parked it in "the perfect parking space right outside the front door". Bzzzt! It immediately occurred to me that that street has rigidly enforced alternate side of the street parking and I asked if they had checked if the car was towed. I was told they'd called and were told the car was not towed.

Fill in more phone calls and craziness and text messages and absolute misery for Adam who had to drag himself onto the subway system with luggage and laptop and shopping bags after a 8 hour flight which required him to leave the house at 5:30am to check in at Heathrow before 7am. NIGHTMARE.

Finally late last night I called Andrew for an update and found out the car was not stolen, it was indeed towed. ***(ok I thought it was towed for illegal parking it wasn't)

Ok, late breaking news, as they say - The Rest Of The Story. It seems that the car was parked legally. It was towed because Adam had 2 overdue parking tickets. Arrrgh! It will now cost hundreds of dollars to get the car out of the impound on top of the cost of the tickets and any fines on those. Damn! Poor Adam.

So finally after a week visiting in London, Asti managed to drive Adam by my house. Of course it was at 6:30am and he was on his way to the airport to return to NYC and she had to rush off to an appointment at work so we're talking about a few minutes which were spend running to Alan's house to grab a laptop to give Adam.

Pathetic, really. I would have enjoyed even an hour together and Adam would have as well. I wanted to wander down to the river Thames with him and sit on the terrace at the London Apprentice with a drink and relax and chat together a bit. It will have to wait for the next trip when Asti won't own all Adam's time.

Meanwhile, I'm still actively job hunting. The AOL job didn't pan out. They decided a harder, quieter, British male was a better choice. That's HR, not the head of the dept he'll be working for. HR said the problem was the head of the dept would have liked me better but they preferred someone who would only think of the job at hand 100% of the time and not "get creative".

Umm ok. Not.

I've learned a hard lesson about HR here. I'll know better next time.

PLUS CA CHANGE, PLUS C'EST LA MÊME CHOSE

Psalm 83

1 Keep not thou silence, O God: hold not thy peace, and be not still, O God.

2 For, lo, thine enemies make a tumult: and they that hate thee have lifted up the head.

3 They have taken crafty counsel against thy people, and consulted against thy hidden ones.

4 They have said, Come, and let us cut them off from being a nation; that the name of Israel may be no more in remembrance.

5 For they have consulted together with one consent: they are confederate against thee:

6 The tabernacles of Edom, and the Ishmaelites; of Moab, and the Hagarenes;

7 Gebal, and Ammon, and Amalek; the Philistines with the inhabitants of Tyre;

8 Assur also is joined with them: they have holpen the children of Lot. Selah.

9 Do unto them as unto the Midianites; as to Sisera, as to Jabin, at the brook of Kison:

10 Which perished at Endor: they became as dung for the earth.

11 Make their nobles like Oreb, and like Zeeb: yea, all their princes as Zebah, and as Zalmunna:

12 Who said, Let us take to ourselves the houses of God in possession.

13 O my God, make them like a wheel; as the stubble before the wind.

14 As the fire burneth a wood, and as the flame setteth the mountains on fire;

15 So persecute them with thy tempest, and make them afraid with thy storm.

16 Fill their faces with shame; that they may seek thy name, O LORD.

17 Let them be confounded and troubled for ever; yea, let them be put to shame, and perish:

18 That men may know that thou, whose name alone is JEHOVAH, art the most high over all the earth.

The idea of proportionate response is barbaric. Does Israel have to wait until the Arabs "catch up" and kill several hundred Israelis? How many soldiers equals a baby? Do pregnant women count as one and a half people? How many free bombings does Hezballah get before Israel is allowed to respond? If a bomb doesn't kill anyone, does it count? How many kidnappings equals a killing? When Hezballah kills Israeli Arabs, which side do they count for?

For 55 years, the Arabs have been "almost" ready to accept a state of Israel. Tell you what. When they are really ready, let people know. Until then, stop lying to yourself.

Today's morbidly amusing incident - but first some background to place it in context:

Britain is a strangely chaotic and unfair country compared to the United States. In the US, we are accustomed to the Rule of Law. And all, theoretically, are equal under the law and entitled to many rights enumerated in Law. In Britain, they have far fewer laws, what they have here are "guidelines". This means you actually live in a very gray legal situation were you have few rights and who you know and who you can intimidate shape the sort of life you will lead.

As well, this is a very provincial society for all they are a "First World" nation and incessantly sneer at Americans as ignorant and small minded.

So with this in mind, we briefly flash back to the events of 2 weeks ago on June 29th.

At 5pm on June 29th my fiance and I had an appointment at our local Registrar's office to attend to give Notice Of Intent to Marry. Normally this office is open 8:30am - 4pm, but a week previously when I had phoned to check details of the process, I had (typical American, I complained) expressed intense dismay that my fiance would have to take a day off work to register when he had just taken off so many days due to surgery. Compassionately, the lady I was speaking with revealed they maintained a secret "special out of hours appointments" service and made our appointment for -after work- the next week! Now I really appreciated this courtesy BUT, the right and fair way to offer a courtesy like this would have been to note it on the information site so everyone had a chance at it and just had to prove its need. Most Brits don't complain, they suffer silently in public and grumble privately and resentments grow.

Moving on in time to June 29th...We show up at the Registrar's office, and for an hour we fill out forms, answer silly questions in rediculous regimented routine, and then the moment comes when I pass over my divorce document. This was the original issue divorce document from the State of Pennsylvania, with the gold foil seal and impression of the sealing machine. The Registrar stared at the document and then pulled out a large loose-leaf binder and started to compare it to documents pictured on the pages. After a while she finished and looking up at me she annonced that my divorce document would not do as it didn't match any of the authorized American divorce documents in her book.

I was puzzled, I said, it was an official original PA divorce decree and had already been approved by the UK Home Office when they issued me my "marriage visa". Nevertheless, the lady explained, the Registrar's Office was a different branch of gov't and had to approve it themselves. I couldn't understand why there was a problem untill the lady said, "We have photocopies of what the official Amercian divorce decrees look like from the issuing authorities in California, Texas, Florida, and New York and yours doesn't match."

Duh! Perhaps that was because MY decree was from Pennsylvania! At this point a classic insane culture confusion type conversation took place. I finally pointed out that those decrees she had copies of were from only 4 of the US states and that we had a whole additional 46 other states to choose from to get divorced in and that they all proudly and legally issued their very own divorce certificates. This resulted in some major running about from office to office consulting other civil servants, none of whom wanted to take responsibility for many a sensible decision. Finally it was decided to hold on to my divorce decree and send it on for examination and approval by the Chief Registrar of the UK. Good grief! I was told that if my decree was approved, copies of it would be made and distributed to registrars all over England to add to their little American Divorce Decree Sample books.

Good grief!

So I waited the requested 10 days to allow them to make up their minds and phoned in to find out if my decree was approved as legit. The office had no clue when I explained what I was calling about ( no surprise there!) and took my phone number and promsed to call back.

Today, just before 5pm I get a call from the Registrar's office. My divorce decree has been accepted and the Registration is approved - sort of, kind of, god forbid anyone here give a plain, simple answer.

The real story is, having receieved my PA divorce degree at the National Top Registrar's Office, it was passed about and everyone sort of looked at it and said, "huh" and " never heard of Pennsylvania, where is it then?" Since there are no laws to follow, only guidelines, they finally decided to dubiously and sceptically approve it without ANY CLUE whether it was genuine and without bothering to even check with the US authorities here in London who would easily have assured them it was legit.

Instead, typically, it has been approved with a warning that "we rely on both the applicant parties' assurances that this is a legitimate document, understanding that it is entirely dependant upon their attestations that the legitimacy of the marriage rests."

Woah, is that nuts or what?

But, the morbidly amusing bit I promised... When the lady from the Registrar's office phoned me, she hadn't even bothered to get out my file and check my name. Instead, when I answered the phone she asked, "Are you the American who's marrying ONE OF OUR BOYS?"

Oh my goodness ;)

My visa arrived in the mail today. What an incredibly expensive nightmare this has been. It's not ended yet, of course. I still have more increasinly small hoops to jump through. My loathing of the UK gov't increases with each sleazy money-making hurdle they erect. They change the rules every few months! Seriously! I went to the Home Office website to check what documents I need to submit after the wedding in order to get my extended leave to settle (and work) for spouses. And what do find? The rules are changing tomorrow. Yes, June 22 they change all the rules. They just changed them on May 5th! And before that in March. And before that in Nov - and I may have missed other changes, they come too fast and frequently to keep up with them. What is guaranteed with each change is an increase of the obscene "processing" charges they demand. Processing what, you may ask. I ask, too since the charges don't cover their answering questions. Ah ha! If you want to ask them a question, make an appointment, or inquiry, you must call a premium charged 3rd party agency which charges you £2.10/min.

I won't mention the charge for the spouse's leave to settle extension - you would just feel as ill as I do now.

The word is that the British Consulate has issued my visa. Andrew found that out last night when he called them. I sort of can't quite believe that that long, miserable struggle is over. They were supposed to email me to advise me when they issued it but of course they didn't. So I can't relax and believe it untill it arrives at Andrew's house. Then I will relax and get ready for the next hurdle in this mad process.

Arrrgh!

We received our first wedding present today - an amusing token to help with the planning. It was a CD collection of wedding music for ceremony and reception.

So this is all real, we really are going to get married.

My mother, Helena Schwimmer died yesterday morning at 2:40 am est. It's been a long struggle for her, which she did with her usual grace, humour, and spirit. Now she is free of pain and at peace. In my family we don't believe in things like heaven or hell. We believe that a person lives on in our thoughts and memories. I have many happy, wonderful memories of Helena, she'll always be with me in that way.

My dear friend Bo wrote this for me last night -

Memories.

I live on memories,
And should I move on,
I will live in memories,
If only one's.