I Only Speak American: January 2013

So it's official... I'm becoming a blogger. I'm hoping I'm not completely terrible at this, but it seems like the best way to keep anyone who pretends to care posted on my life across the pond. Part 1 was deciding on a blog name. So I suppose I should explain the one I've chosen. Technically it's "I Only Speak American". This name came about because TWICE - not once TWICE - I've actually accidentally told people that the only language I speak is American. <insert sheepish face> I realize this is ridiculous. But I figure I may as well laugh about it. That said, the URL isn't available...so my actual site is myyearasabrit.blogger.com.

Still learning how all this works... so bear with me please!! Ok...so I've put my last email to everyone as a post also...and then my next update is here....

I don’t understand how it’s even happened….last time I checked, I was NOT a tea person. In fact, tea made me think of being ill. I certainly have not ever liked green tea or chamomile tea. Then bam. Suddenly I like tea?? The Brits are brainwashing me… Last week, I had herbal raspberry tea and it was delicious. The other night, not only did I have tea twice (and chamomile tea at that!), but I actually boiled water in a kettle!!!! Seriously! A kettle!? I mean, yes, it was an electric kettle (which are fabulous by the way..not sure why I’ve never had one before. Boiling water to cook pasta? Done in half the time….. hard boiled eggs? Easy peasy). Anyway, electric or not… I used a kettle for tea before bed today. Something is happening to me. I’m blaming it on the water….

Anyway thus begins by blog entry about falling in love with London. I think it’s happening. Despite the cold temps. Despite the gray. Despite the fact that my feet seem to hurt ALL the time (apparently I didn’t walk as much in Chicago as I thought). Everything is pretty. Snow covered trees and cars look lovely when the cars are old-fashioned cabs and the homes are European, white townhouses. It’s like an idyllic scene from a movie! My neighborhood (Maida Vale) is absolutely beautiful in this weather. The snow was falling in thick flakes the other day, and even though I think it’s crazy how the entire city freaks out and shuts down when it snows (it really did essentially shut down!) it’s so pretty that it’s hard to care.

Then there’s the pub culture. I think I’m already on board. Coffee shops are so bustling and noisy that I’m seriously considering starting to do my schoolwork in pubs instead. The pubs are quaint. People bring their computers and do work there. The lighting is lovely, and despite the overpriced beers, it’s hard to stay away from a cider even when you’re trying to be good!

Everything is new. Every neighborhood is different. Everything has it’s own unique feel. Notting Hill was so cute to walk around that I immediately wanted to move there. Angel is like the Wicker Park/Bucktown of London. There are hardly any skyscrapers, so even if you’re in the epicenter of business, it doesn’t feel like a dirty overcrowded city. I’m starting to develop relationships already that I can tell are going to develop into friendships, and I’m loving that most of them are with people that aren’t Americans. (This is not to knock some of the awesome Americans I’ve been put in touch with here. They have been fabulous! But let’s be honest, I didn’t move to Europe to only hang out with Americans, so I’m actively seeking international friends). My British and Dutch roommates (love them, if you didn’t get that from my last post). My Russian, Bolivian, Bulgarian, Italian, Australian and Saudi Arabian classmates that have already had me over for dinner, regularly packed an “extra” sandwich for me at lunch (ok, that’s only one guy….but I don’t care if it’s because he has a crush on me… it’s saved me from getting grumpy from hunger several times!). The fact that the other day I actually was able to organize a group of friends to go to a PUB to watch the movie Casablanca!! I know it may be a lame way to express it..but it’s the truth. Right now I’m in the honeymoon phase. I love it all.

So a few of my favorite things so far:

Borough Market – an absolutely MUST do. And by “do”, I mean weekly. It’s a food-lovers heaven. Samples everywhere. Truffle oil samples even!! Cheese. Olives! The most insane grilled cheese sandwiches I’ve ever seen. Bread that smells so wonderful you should have to pay just for the smells. Chocolate bread samples! I mean seriously…. I didn’t even need lunch after that. It’s right by the London Bridge (not to be mistaken with the Tower Bridge, although apparently everyone does). It’s quaint, and pretty, and open year round.

Fish and chips – Only had it once, and it was big enough to feed three people….but it did not disappoint.

My local pub “The Metropolitan” – Free, live, acoustic music every Thursday. Need I say more? Consider me a regular.

Roasts – I think I already made this clear in my last post as well…but in case I didn’t….

The fact that everyone acts incredulous when I tell them it’s about to be my 30^th birthday. I don’t think I look that young…but I seem to pass as 24 or 25 on a regular basis…and I’m going to bask in that as long as possible.

The few things I don’t like (and there aren’t many)

Their front doors – the handles are in the middle. It’s just awkward. They don’t close easily so I’m constantly SLAMMING the door.
The gym situation – It’s less than ideal. They are super expensive, and super small.
Carrying my bookbag or shoulder bag (depending on the day) with me. Too heavy. I don’t like carrying books, and a laptop, and my notebooks, and my packed lunch for the day. I feel like my arm is going to fall off. Maybe I can get a boy to start carrying it for me…
Top up cell phones – What a pain in the ass. Seriously. Customer service doesn’t exist here. And the cell phone situation without an established credit history is just ridiculous
The coffee situation – still figuring this out. Their “filtered” coffee (aka American coffee) is rubbish. The Americanos aren’t a good substitute….and everything seems to have a lot more milk than I want. They don’t like personalizing your coffee either. Don’t add things, do half caf, add 2-not-3 pumps of a syrup. In fact, don’t add a syrup at all. They don’t like fancy. Just order a dry cappuccino and get on with it already...
Everyone smokes. Seriously. Everyone.

Also, the Britons are crazy about the weather. It’s like they don’t need heat. The sun comes out and the weather gets above 2 degrees (Celsius) and people are suddenly eating outside!?!?! Seriously…. I don’t know how their hands don’t freeze off.

Anyway, after 3 weeks here in London…. There’s not much not to like. I’m facing constant battles with wanting to do and see it all (like a tourist) and getting overwhelmed with all there is to do while still trying to study finance (which I’m horrible at) and live an everyday life. But discovering a different way of living with all types of different people so far has been so great.

More "touristy" pictures coming soon...

Jan. 7, 2013

HOLA!!!! (This is what I yell to my roommates every day when I walk into our flat to announce my entrance. They assure me that they find me completely endearing and not at all annoying.)

So, I’ve officially been here for 4 full days. Given my usual amount of ridiculous energy, the fact that I felt deliriously tired for the first 3 days AND that I actually slept in until 1 pm on Saturday (that is seriously probably a life first) I’ve realized this jet lag thing is for real. While this may be a given, I found it very surprising that I was walking around feeling like a narcoleptic for the first few days. I think I might have actually fallen asleep at the bank counter while opening my account.

That said, there's been plenty entertaining, humorous or just plain awesome things have already happened. So here's the list from these first few days.

ORD – There seems to have been a carry on bag weight limit that I was unaware of. Didn’t bode well for my strategy of “putting all the heavy stuff in my carry on bag so I didn’t go over the weight limit for checked baggage.” Instead I had to check an extra bag. And by extra, I mean a 5^th bag. (Yes, you heard me right). Thank you Mom, Dad and Mary for all the work you put into trying to keep me at 3 bags. Sorry it ended up going to total waste. Close your eyes, hand over your credit card and think happy thoughts.)

Dublin airport - I accidentally dropped a “mini bottle” of red wine in the Customs line from Dublin to London. Bottle shattered. Wine sprayed. Security line got held up. Young security guard looked none-too-entertained. I sheepishly apologized and fled the scene.
Heathrow Airport - One of my 3 new roommates – Paul – picked me up from the airport AND carried all 5 of my bags for me. AND somehow managed to not look at me like I was a total moron for packing so much. No one in London has cars, so Paul immediately became my new favorite person. He also gave me a tour of the city, took me to lunch and listened to me excitedly imitate his British accent while still looking fairly amused – rather than disgusted – by how American I was being.
First Weekend - Paul (my new best friend, in case you forgot) took me out with his friends Friday night. I was told we were going to a pub, then a club. I said I was bailing after the pub to sleep. Somehow 4 am rolls around and I am still out with Paul and said friends (who were all awesome by the way) at some random music bar way on the other side of town, listening to a West African drum line, and dancing the night away while sipping on Mohitos (boys included).
London First - I slept in until 1 pm Saturday, after previously noted 4 am night. I think that may have been a first for me. Like...ever.
I’ve been corrected like… 6398 times for calling money dollars instead of pounds. (Come on, you know what i mean!)
I've also been corrected for saying "Let me throw on some pants". (Pants means underwear here. Trousers means pants. You see the problem.
American things in London - My roommate Sharon seems to still like me despite the fact that she has no idea what to make of my neti pot hanging in the bathroom…or the fact that I seem to burp out loud without warning quite frequently.
First Day of School

So Monday was my first day of school in….almost 8 years! And I’m the ONLY American in my entire class. Then, right about the time we are finishing up introductions, my course leader looks at me and says “Oh, YOU’RE the Kirsti Boston that has been sending me so many emails and questions over the past 2 months.” Busted.
I am already am nicknamed “Google” by several of my new classmates (primarily boys who’s names I can’t pronounce because they are from somewhere in the Middle East and for the first time, I’m not the one with the weirdest name). I’m sorry I’m organized. I plan. I do happen to be carrying 2 different notebooks, a binder of information and a day planner.
The school hosted a social, and somehow I managed to be the very last student to leave. When I realized it was me and 5 professors talking about the difference between a psychopath and a sociopath and why they all should start watching Dexter, I figured it was time to bolt.

Lastly – and maybe this doesn’t come as a shocker to all of you given my penchant for bad British accents and slang – but everything I say seems to sound …well…. Trashy! So I’ve started a list of US words and their UK meaning. It’s too early to share it now… it’s not funny to anyone except me (and my roommates, who somehow still find me ridiculously entertaining after 4 days). But stay tuned there…

Anyway, I’ve started taking some pictures, but I haven’t properly touristed much quite yet. But here are a few of the ones I’ve captured so far. Thanks to so many amazing friends in the US who were willing to put me in touch with their British friends, I’ve had a pretty full social calendar. I actually feel like I have friends! (Crazy, I know!) I’ve gone out in 2 neighborhoods other than my own, and have already seen the book store Hugh Grant worked at in the movie Notting Hill!!

Much love,
Kirsti