Pardon me, but your American is showing

It was all about the boy (for a general idea of how that all went down see here) but I ended up leaving for the job.

Before I left on my big adventure across the pond, my sister came by to help me pack. The way she was scurrying about my apartment, you think I was leaving for a trip to the outer planets of the universe. She put the book “Watching the English” in my backpack. According to her elderly co-worker who had visited there once <probably 50 years ago>, this was to be my survival manual for the ‘wooly wiles’ of England, and I should have it close to me at all times. Wooly… sighhhhh…. among other things, she packed me a wool blanket, socks, and sweater. I break out in weird little red bumps when I wear things made of wool. Thank god, I saw those in my bags before I left. According to my big sis, all they wear in the UK is wool. Very thoughtful of her, but those itchy things did not make the journey.

It’s day 20. So far, I’ve learned:

I wear a lot of black, but not enough.

I also do not nearly have enough tatt’s or piercings.

The popular English winged eye and pencilled brows thing, I’ve tried and failed at.

I don’t say ‘right,’ ‘then’ and ‘bloody’ enough, nor do I say them in the proper context. ‘Proper’- isn’t even in my vocab yet either. When I even attempt these, I’m looked at oddly, like “Ahhh, please don’t. Don’t even”.

I so get that.

Like many Americans, I like to use analogies. My writing has been called “flowery” and it is now imperative that I use ‘whilst’ instead of ‘while’. There are two words I never-ever use here, written or verbal: Donald Trump.

There’s one word I’m completely enamoured with: “Cheeky”. It comes with half-smiles and raised eyebrows or no expression at allll. Regardless, of delivery, it slays me every time.

I’ve introduced myself to waiters prior to ordering. (Oh good god woman, didn’t you read the first pages of that book? Never introduce yourself before commenting on the weather or other banal types of convo’s. It still holds true).

I haven’t yet slept a full night. My body thinks it’s still on EST. So I tend to be up at 3 am/4 am/5 am, and that’s when I’m usually taking one last look at his and the blonde’s wedding pic posted prominently on FB. Not sure what I think is going to change or what little detail I’ve missed. They still look really good together.

I love my new roomie. She’s a ‘bloody brilliant’ musician. Truly she is. I think everyone here is a musician of some sort. She’s also quite clever and knows exactly what I’m doing in the wee hours of the morning. “Fuck him, Love. We are going out to _____(<— fill in fun, hip, Brit night spot here). You are going to see not all Englishmen are ARSES!”

Oh, I see them. Trust me I do. They’re at Timberyard or The Book Club or vegan places like Vantra that I’ve come to adore here. I can barely eat or work though, I’m too busy staring and listening to the people who surround me, completely mystified at their beauty. I try to keep my mouth from being mostly agape the entire time. I hope by my fourth week here, the ‘Dumb Doris’ look I have going on will subside.

I hate that there are McDonald’s here, but every blessed day, I’m ecstatic Starbucks has found its way overseas.

At my roomie’s insistence, I tried driving here. I almost flattened a bicyclist. He yelled at me. “What the FUCK is wrong with you?!” When I replied “I’m sorry. I’m sooo very sorry”, all I got back was “Ohhh, you’re American”. Guess, he got his answer. Evidently, I’m not ready for the left errr… the “right“ (versus the American wrong) side of the road driving yet.

I take the tube. It’s not nearly as horrible as they say but again, I’m still in ‘American stare at everyone’ mode, so I’m not tuning it all out like I do on the trains back home.

I’m sure that makes it quite uncomfortable for those I can’t take my eyes off of. The English do love their priiivacy here.

I’ve already told several strangers my back story. A huge English no-no, but definite American thing to ‘go on’ about yourself. I haven’t even finished Chapter 1 of my sister’s British Bible, and I’ve screwed up royally.

The weather here sucks now. It’s much better at home, but come winter I know I’ll be reversing those statements.

I miss home, but I love this place. I love these people. I really do…

Before I head on back, there’s lots more I’ve got to ‘sort out’ and a whole new kingdom I’ve yet to conquer whilst I’m here.

Special Mentions:

Timberyard @timberyarduk

Vantra @VantraLondon

The Book Club London @thebookclubEC2