As May 1 is rapidly approaching, we are nearing the time where we have to begin the process of shutting down our lives here and getting away. This means we have to notify our landlord, close the bank account, cancel our internet and phone, sell the car, cancel the car insurance, and notify the GEZ, whatever that is.

Everything needs 90 days notice out here, so yesterday I started the process (with help, of course). When we called the internet/phone people, they told us that we were supposed to give six months notice, not 90 days, and we’d be paying for our services until August. We’ve poured over the contract and can’t find anything that says six months anywhere.

Why do I have the feeling this is just the beginning of ways the Germans are going to give us the boot?

Before moving to Germany, I signed an agreement with my company that was long and detailed and had a bunch of fine print. I literally signed it THE DAY I was leaving for the airport, after all of our stuff had been shipped, so you can imagine I had a lot on my mind and this little bit of paperwork was the last thing on my mind before my two-year European vacation.

Part of the agreement was that I was to continue to pay into my US Social Security during these two years, which is a HUGE value for when I go to retire. So imagine my shock when I got my social security statement for 2008 (yes, ‘08, not ‘09) and my taxed earnings were wayyyyy too small.

Like 7 months too small.

Those 7 months being strangely equivalent to the amount of time spent abroad.

I frantically checked my paycheck stubs and discovered that there was NOTHING being deducted for social security this entire time. I didn’t notice it initially because my paychecks were going to my in-law’s house in Boulder, and once I finally picked them up, it didn’t occur to me to scan for Social Security deductions.

So if 2008 only had 5 months of taxed earnings taken out, you can imagine what I am expecting for 2009. That’s right - zip. And looking at my last paycheck from 2009 indicates I’m probably right - there’s been nothing taken out this whole year.

I have no idea what this means in the long term, if it means I need to work until I’m 93 now before retiring, or if it was just a minor mishap and the company can sort it all out AND pay me for lost deductions and pain and suffering?

Ok, I might be dreaming there.

Today I took my car in to get the winter tires taken off and the summer tires put back on. At the same time, I also asked them to reset the “Service” light that keeps coming on when I start the car, which tells me that I need to have my car serviced at regular intervals.

Simple enough, right? It is my choice that I do not opt to have this service? It is my car, after all, and any long-term damage is my responsibility, RIGHT? All makes sense to me. However, apparently it is ILLEGAL for them to reset the service light without doing the service. HUH?

I had my Nissan in the U.S. for 5 years and 70,000 miles and never did the recommended service. Sure, I changed the oil, checked fluids, swapped filters, etc. but never shelled out a ton of money for what I thought was superfluous work.

But, here, they can’t reset the service indicator without actually doing the service, because if there was an accident (like my engine falling out or what?), and they had reset the light, I could sue them.

AGGGGGHHHHHH.

We’re back and recovering (slowly) from the long journey. We had a great time in Denver and the flight back was LONG but uneventful.

Now that I’ve been to Denver and picked up all of my tax forms, it’s time to get moving on filing my taxes. I have been worried about this since approximately May 1 of last year. You see, not only do I have to file German taxes, but I also have to file U.S. taxes. AND I have to pay U.S. taxes if my income is over a certain amount (which it is). AND Travis has to file taxes. AND we sold a house last year, so I have no idea how that works in. AND we can’t read the German tax forms. Other than that, no worries here. Nope. None.

(SCREAM!)

I’m not even sure where to start with this one. I’ve emailed two tax advisors I found online and haven’t heard back. I hope I hear something soon, otherwise I’ll need to go to Plan B, which doesn’t exist yet. Oh dear.

Last week, we both got letters from Frankfurt-Stadt, the official government offices, and I immediately said “Oh great, what’d we do wrong now?” We poured over the letters looking for any familiar words. Finally, I remembered - our driver’s license! I knew that our four weeks was already up because I was already worried about what kind of hoops we’d have to jump if these letters never came, so the fact that my first reaction was that something was done wrong shows you that I may be just a skootch paranoid about German laws.

We got up super, duper, extra early this morning to try to be to the DMV (or whatever it is here) by 7:30 when they opened. We went to grab our passports, and… where where they? We frantically checked every drawer, bag, cubby, couch cushion. What on earth could have happened to the darn things between now and when we last had them, in Barcelona?

A mild freak-out ensued, where I pictured us not being able to get back in the states next month, and the nightmare of government offices we’d have to navigate to try to get a new passport. Finally, after 15 minutes of searching, they were found - right in the drawer they were SUPPOSED to be, of course (just on the other side). Whew.

We hustled out a little later than we’d wanted and down to the office. Even though we’d spent a lot of time there the first time around, we got a little lost trying to find the right place. After a few minutes of typing into a computer (and yes, they needed our passports - thank goodness we’d found them!) she handed over the goods - two nice, crisp driver’s licenses with really terrible pictures. I mean, REALLY terrible. They don’t let you smile here for ID pictures - Germans hate smiling!

When Travis looked over his I said “Did they catch your point yet?” He laughed, “I don’t think so, but I don’t know how I’d be able to tell if they did!”

Things are going along fine for us to bring Audrey home tomorrow, in spite of my worries earlier in the week. The money from Denver made it to Germany, then promptly made it to the dealer’s account without us even so much as getting to say “Hello-Goodbye.” Yesterday, I went to the dealer and left my passport(!) and signed over some papers so that they could register the car for us. Instead of having temporary tags for a month like in the U.S., you must get your plates before you get the car. Co-workers have clued me in that the process of plate getting is something like “Stand in line with thousands of others, get to the front, not have all your paperwork, people only speak German.” This sounds unbelievably similar to many other German policies, so when we learned we could pay the dealer 200€ and he would do it for us, INCLUDING the cost of the plates, we immediately volunteered to pay him more.

So, tomorrow at 4 we pick up Audrey and our family will be complete!

Today we got up extra, extra early to get our driver’s licenses. Knowing that they opened at 7:30 on Wednesdays, the plan was to get there early and then get me to work without missing too much acof my day.

After multiple trains and a short walk, we got to the driver’s license place at about 8:30. After last time when we were spoiled with absolutely no wait, we were surprised to see a waiting room full of people. We took a number and waited our turn.

About 40 minutes went by when our number was called and we went in to the room. We “sprechen sie english?”ed and to our surprise this time we got a no. Usually people know a teensy bit, enough to help us blunder through whatever transaction we’re trying to do. This time we were not so lucky. She kept asking us question in German that made us look at each other and raise our eyebrows, trying to piece together random words that might have sounded familiar. We gave her all of the paperwork we had and she started typing away at the keyboard so we thought we had everything under control.

With the help of a colleague, she asked us if this was our first “issue” of our license. Not sure what that meant we said no. Then she said she needed to see the first issue. We struggled with that for a bit, her telling us we had to call the DMV to get a letter. After mentally cursing this place and all of the difficulties, she must have discovered something that told her we didn’t need to get a letter. So that was good.

Next came the pictures. The pictures that we were supposed to bring in ourselves, not like in the U.S. DMV where they snap it for you. The pictures we forgot. “Kein probleme,” she insisted, and we were able to decipher that we now needed to go to the third floor to pay and the first floor for pictures. We got in the elevator and pushed 1. Somehow, we ended up on 4 and didn’t realize it. After wandering around we finally realized our mistake. D’oh.

Paying for the licenses was fairly easy, once we got on the right floor, and we next went to the automatic photo station. There was someone inside already so we waited for him to come out. And waited. And waited. The curtain was moving so we knew he was alive, and finally he came out and turned to someone waiting in the room and said a lot of things, but all I understood was “kaput!” So we took our turn, wary of the machine eating our money, but it worked, even though I cut off the top of my head in my photograph. It turned out good enough though, so we went back in to the original room where everyone cheered because they thought we’d left - that’s how long it took.

After turning our paperwork and photos back over, she typed a bit more and then told us we’d get a letter in four weeks saying it was ready, and once we had that we could come back in, take another number, and pick them up. FOUR WEEKS! So much for instant gratification.

After all that, I didn’t make it into the office until noon, which means I’ll have to work late tonight to get everything done. Yuck.

As I was relaying this story to a co-worker, he said, “Yep, why make something simple when it could be difficult? That is the German way!”

I tend to agree.

I took Friday off, since it was a holiday for all you in the states anyway, and we decided we’d try to get our German driver’s licenses before we left for the airport for our weekend in Paris. So, we got up early, planned out our route in the borrowed car (I really wanted to take the bus because driving in Frankfurt is a little scary, but Travis was determined) and hit the road. We have no printer at home so we wrote down the directions turn-by-turn including little teeny map-like sketches.

We got to the building just fine and it turned out to actually be the same place where we had gotten our work/residence permits, so we even recognized the place. We waited in line for about 40 minutes before getting to the front. When we did, we asked if they spoke English and they found someone who did. As soon as we explained what we needed, he gave a chuckle and said “Oh, sorry, you’re in the wrong building.” Hilarious, right?

So, we found the RIGHT building and were told to go to the third floor and the woman there told us to go to the second floor. Finally, we got to the right place and took a number, just like the DMV. When our number was called (after about 10 seconds, instead of the 3/4 of an hour we’d just spent at the wrong building) we trotted in and sat down. The woman at the desk assured us she spoke English, and we told her we needed a driver’s license. She then asked us for our translation, so I pulled out our city registration, work visa, residence visas, passports, and Colorado driver’s license - basically every piece of paper we’d been given during our multitude of government building visits. She glanced at the piles, repeated “Translation?” and we just kind of stared at her.

Apparently we need a translation document - something that legally translates our Colorado license into German. And, of course, we don’t have the translation document. So we now have another ‘to-do’ task and that is to get translations. But we only have 90 days from the day we got here to get the driver’s license before we have to spend big bucks and take driver’s ed classes. And believe it or not, our 90 day mark is approaching fast, so let’s hope we can get this one taken care of soon!

This morning we visited what we hope is our last government office. Those fine folks gave us a piece of paper in our passports that says we are Aufenthaltstitel. Meaning, we’re free to stay here for the next two years and not get kicked out of the country. Yippie! It also means I am free to go into work. I’m not sure how I feel about that, because I’ve been rather enjoying the sunny 75-degree days with nothing to do. Oh well.

Today, I get to venture out to get a document called Lohnsteuerkarte. From what I understand, this is just a really long name for what we call a W-4. These Germans sure like to make things complicated.

Monday is a bank holiday (Whit Monday, for those wondering) and on Tuesday I report to yet another government office for yet another long word: Aufenthaltstitel. This document is what permits me to work and live in Germany, so it’s somewhat important. We’re so lucky to have German friends who accompany us on these errands, because since we can’t even PRONOUNCE the words we’re at a slight disadvantage.