Day 113 (this is not an accurate calculation)
I am now in possession of something I was sorely lacking - patience.
After a lifetime of dealing with the Brits and four years of intensive training courtesy of Big Blue, you would think I would have been better prepared. I've stopped slamming down the phone and asking my desk-mate what's wrong with this country.
After a month of the 'engineer' determining whether or not his company can service my building, I now have the internet. I miss my quiet evenings sipping Coors Light and reading the same books over and over.
Despite several passive aggressive email exchanges, my owner has still not popped by to have a look at the issues I cited. I've grown fond of the flashing light show that takes place every time I turn on the living room lights, so I'm not bothered (pronounced bovered).
Doing laundry aka the washing is an all out event. 3 hour wash cycles are a thing. So are clotheshorses and irons. All articles of black clothing now have white stripes. I must find a dry-cleaner asap.
Before I could start enjoying my 'leisure center' aka gym, I had to pass a physical. I will forever wonder what the feedback would have been if I hadn't obtained a passing score.
Bureaucracy, Process, Health & Safety - that's what the Brits do.
The phone technician asked me if I was Australian. My American flag throw was chillen on the couch along side my American flag pillow.
In the span of 72 hours, I was called crass - for suggesting a cash prize in a raffle, arrogant - when answering the question 'what are your Christmas plans?' and the quintessential fat, ugly, American - after declining a gentleman's invitation to accompany him to his hotel. Rather harsh the last one considering it was Thanksgiving Day. It's a universal fact, that Americans are hated the world over, but I've never had that hatred directed at me. I wanted nothing more than home - any state would have done.
A week later, two drunk fools went off at me about how all Americans claim they're Irish. I took my double Jameson shot like a champ, flashed my passports at them and wished them luck in obtaining that visa for the States they so desperately wanted.
Black Friday happened and the reaction of the Brits was priceless. They struggled terribly with the notion of not politely queuing up.
I'm delighted to confirm that listening to someone speak French on the regular is as delicious as you think it would be. The phone-book would sound seductive.
The Jubilee line needs to immediately be renamed.
I break one of the cardinal rules of the underground daily - I fall in love with an unknown, handsome stranger.
I continue to be shocked when a colleague calls someone a foreigner or disabled and isn't immediately called into HR.
I took a selfie with a man passed out on the tube. I woke him to see what stop he needed first. So British.
I had my first Royal Visit. My little cousins and I got trapped on my rooftop - the CCT tape clearly hasn't been reviewed yet. We went ice-skating, drank mulled wine, paid Big Ben a visit, strolled the Thames & someone may or may have not drunk wine out of a teacup. Excellent visit all around.
I got a shout-out on Free (pronouned Fwee) Radio from my all-time favorite DJ, JD. Besides moving to the UK, it was the highlight of my year.
If you convert £s to $S, I paid almost $400 for a haircut and highlights. Thanks London.
In 2.5 weeks, I went to Dublin, New York, Mexico, Arizona and Connecticut. When I got to Grand Central and met a friend by the clock, I had to remind myself that I had in fact moved to England and this was no longer my norm. I was as annoyed as ever walking through Times Square the next day. The West was beyond amazing - I must confess, the more I visit in my advanced age, the less eager I am to leave. I witnessed a man appreciating his life's work in Mexico - it took my breath away. It snowed in Connecticut & even though it dampened my plans, it made me smile.
I was as sad as I predicted I would be when I left the States and have struggled terribly to settle into life in London since coming back. Retrospect - it'll get you every time.
Miss Kitte and Griffith were completely in love with our country home and were not pleased about the move to London. Miss Kitte is adjusting back to city living and adores watching the pigeons that fly by our building every morning. Griffith is not having any of it.
I spoke to one person on my birthday.
My team surprised me with a birthday goodie bag - crazy cat lady themed gifts and dinero to see a show in the West End. They know me so well.
The UnDateables.
Getting paid once a month sucks.
I have not dippity dipped since September.
I took a stroll through Regent's Park recently. Gents playing Rugby never gets old.
Greenwich mansions have nothing on some of the digs here.
Super Bowl Sunday means napping at 5pm, a midnight kick off, beans on toast and Pims for snacks, going to bed at 4am and waking up for work at 6am.
My all-time favorite DJ, JD gave me another shout-out this morning after I tweeted him about the song he played. It was Berlin's Take My Breath Away.
I have yet to plan my trip to Paris. I have yet to rendezvous with any of the peeps. I miss everything that is home; I think about it more often than not.
I never wake up dreading work. Despite the awful train service, I never flip out. I sleep.
To answer the inferred questions in The National's epic anthem England, Yes I'm somewhere in London loving my life in the rain; Yes, I'm somewhere in London walking merrily.
