I’m an alien, a legal alien . . .

So, as of today, we are officially legal aliens, in possession of our alien registration cards. Really, being an alien just makes me want to have antennae. You know, like the ones you got at the fair when you were little: on a headband, with bobbly spring coils attached to glittery round balls.

Those were not, shockingly enough, the free gift with our alien registration cards. Rather, we got to take the elevator up two floors and enroll in national health insurance. Almost as good as antennae. And not a moment too soon, as my old insurance from school expires in a few days. The health insurance is not terribly expensive (or so we think), and I bet the care will be pretty good. So that is a refreshing change from the U.S.

What is not a refreshing a change is how difficult it is to sign up for internet service. Our first attempt to get high-speed internet into our house was foiled because we failed to submit the certificate that showed that we had applied for said alien registration cards. Our second attempt four days ago took nearly forty-five minutes, because it was unclear whether or not we could even sign up without the actual alien registration cards (No internet? How are we to communicate with the mothership?). Finally, after many phone calls and consultations, they agreed to accept the certificate that stated that our alien registration cards were forthcoming plus Mike’s library card (of course!) as evidence that we were, in fact, serious about giving them our money. Since the second sign-up, they have called twice. Neither of these calls has resulted in them making an appointment to come out to our house and set us up. Still unclear on when that will happen.