Bond, pussies and parties. You’re welcome :)

So, this week it’s all about British/ American differences in eating habits and at school.

Eating etiquette

First up, the Guardian published an article about the different ways of eating in the UK and the USA. You can read it here…

It basically says ‘Lots of American customs have invaded British culture over the past few decades, but I wouldn’t have bet on this one: apparently, British people have begun to brandish their forks in the American fashion.’

I was brought up using the method of cutting with my knife and keeping the fork in the left hand (as I’m right handed). I never adopted the ‘cut and switch’ method of many Americans, but I did enjoy certain meals, like salads, where I could just eat with my fork in my right hand not have to cut at all. It’s more relaxed. Prior to my American experience I wouldn’t have dreamed of eating like that (yes, the wrath of my Very British father played heavily upon my table manners!).

In the States I became a bit fascinated by how people cut/ate their food. I would watch to see how they held their knives and forks and sometimes try it their way to see if worked for me. It didn’t. I have a dinner party tonight here in the UK and I bet everyone just eats ‘the British way’. Simples.

But let’s not get to the stage where we judge people on how they hold their cutlery, shall we? Rather, let’s enjoy their company and the conversation and the food. After all, many cultures prefer to eat with their hands. Personally, I think it’s just darn wrong to eat a pizza with a knife and fork – pick up that slice and whop the bugger in yer gob before it all flops off! That’s how to eat pizza!

School’s out

In the States we could take Harry out of school whenever we jolly well pleased for our roadtrips and wotnot. And we did. We probably did it a little too much, but when you ‘visilive’ somewhere it’s going to be that way to make the most of it.

In the UK you can get fined lots of dosh for taking your nippers out of school and have to get sign off for attendance at funerals and the like, and they restrict the number of days they can be off.  That bit annoys me. Close family member dies: have one day off to attend the funeral only, if you please. If you breach this in anyway you get fined and then the Daily Mail runs a story about you heading off to Malaga for a beach holibobs with your kids in school time (bad) or the Guardian runs a story about you taking the kids out for an educational trip to the Galapagos Islands (good).

What do I think? I think a few days out of school for kids, especially for emotional reasons, or highly educational reasons, isn’t going to damage them. To be honest, Harry learned a lot more in historic Savannah, the Cherokee reservations, and watching elephant seals in California than he would have at school for those days. Fact.

Savannah!

We are now constricted to school holidays for our vacations in the UK and that’s been a hard adjustment, but it’s the law innit, and I don’t really want to end up in the Daily Mail just yet. 😉

Happy pussies

Interestingly my cats are infinitely happier here than they were in the USA. It might be the weather was too hot or too cold there; it might be they just love being in the house they grew up in, but it’s defo true to say my cats are totes British!

She might not look happy, but she is actually v v happy!

Gawd love the interweb

When your hilarious drunk American friends phone you via interweb technology at 630am British time on a Saturday you know they’re missing you. And boy do I miss them. Like oodles. Like so much I never realised that it’s possible to miss people this much. So many memories, so many laughs, so much joy. When people ask if I miss the States, of course I do, but really I miss the people the most.

James Bond fever!

Well it’s all about James Bond here in the UK. How proud we are of him! How British we are when we talk about him! How much my dad looks like Roger Moore! How much do I think of Russ Abbot’s take on it and Miss FunnyFanny from the 1980s?!

Anyhow, here are some delightful Bond facts for you so you can be all smart and smug about Bond at your next dinner party. You’re welcome!

Battle of the Bonds: Kisses, Cocktails, Kills, Cars & Cash – An infographic by the team at GB Show Plates

Read more at: http://www.gbshowplates.co.uk/battle-of-the-bonds-infographic/

Reality bites and normality bites harder

Not gonna lie, this repat thing is tough.

I’m honest when people ask me. ‘What’s it like being back then?’ they ask. ‘Normal,’ say I.

Then they ask me how my life is different and I reply thus:

‘Well before I was doing all the things I had ever dreamed of doing like travelling and meeting loads of people and hanging out at fabulous parties with fabulous people and going to events and writing and blogging and writing some more and being creative and presenting on TV and doing PR for things I love and being an extra on TV shows and modeling and doing professional theatre and teaching fitness classes and being a nutritionist and having great times with my boys.

Now I get up and go to my job and I go home again.’

All of the stuff I did in the USA was work, but for some reason it didn’t feel like work. It’s a different perspective, I guess.

And I play netball, of course, in England which is the glorious highlight of my week.

That might sound really bloody grumpy and totally negative. But this is the reality and this is normality and it kind of makes me realise that I really am not very good at normality. Sometimes the normality of it all is the hardest thing to adjust to. Back to earth with a bang. That’s reverse culture shock in full swing, I understand.

Anyhow, that thought aside, there are still good and weird and amusing things going on in the merry old land of Eng.

My dual personality Sat Nav

So, I’m currently in much confusion with my Sat Nav. British bought, this Sat Nav has a strange habit and I am sure someone has messed with it in order to mess with my head. The Sat Nav female voice, but every ruddy instruction she gives is given in firstly an American accent and then again in a British accent. It’s freaking bizarre! ‘Fess up, who made this setting on my Sat Nav?!

Festivals UK stylie

This is the truth to date. Festivals in the USA are rocking and mental. The ‘festivals’ we have been to so far in the UK are tame. I am ready to be proved wrong, Britain! I love a festival with balls! Invites accepted!

Pulled Pork

Another truth. Pulled Pork in the UK this summer, apparently, was like this trendy gastro pub gourmet thing on the British BBQ summer circuit. Everyone was raving about this new phenomenon of pulled pork in a bun like it had fallen from heaven. In the States, pulled pork is just a thing that you get wherever, whenever. Funny innit, how we view it. And. even though we all three had a fascination with pulled pork in the USA when we first arrived. it’s like beans on toast now. To be honest, I’ve had enough!

London

I love love love love love London. No denying, that city makes me feel alive. Even being squashed on the smelly old Tube made me smile. Ah, the Big Smoke, j’adore!

Repat confession of the week

Did I really use an American accent on purpose at the Tesco petrol station to hide the fact that I am a Brit who still has no idea how to use the British petrol pumps and can’t work out if you pay first or after or at the pump ….?
Yes, I jolly well did!

It can’t get anymore British can it?!

British School

This week has been an onslaught of very British things invading my senses. My reaction is more often than not thus: oooh I know that thing, but it feels kind of weird, and yet kind of normal too.

Like school for Harry. Obviously it’s been 30-odd years since I went to primary school so it’s naturally changed oodles, but my comparison is, of course, American schooling from the past three years. Honestly, not too sad to leave that behind. Sorry America, much as I love soooo much about you,  I just couldn’t connect with the American school system.

But let’s start with the British school uniform. Cute, yes. Stripping one’s identity? Slightly, but I totally love the rationale behind school uniforms in the UK. Anyhoo, there it is in all its glory. No tie yet though, thank the Lord. There’s a 4-6 week waiting list for that piece of fun.

According to Harry the best things about British school are, in order: ‘toffee sticky pudding’; the ‘boys’ toilets that hang on the wall’; and his lovely teacher, who I am sure gets a lot of attention from the fathers on parents’ evening 😉

British cricket

I am actually typing this whilst sitting in glorious British sunshine – the warmest day that I’ve experienced since I’ve been back. Yes, I know it’s still 80 degrees and humid in Maryland, and I miss the hocohomos and the pool etc, but my word this current climate is suitably pleasant to have a cup of tea in whilst in yer t-shirt and whilst not having to worry about bikini issues, if you know what I’m saying ladies.

So, with such a fabulous day today, of course it was the coldest day so far yesterday because we spent it outside at a cricket and beer festival with scarves and jackets and thermal ruddy socks on. That is so very, very British 🙂

Still capitalizing on that expat thing….

Yep, I’m still harping on about being an expat in the USA and that will happen for a while, I suspect. I’m not done yet with cultural comparisons.

So, here is a podcast I did last weekend with my old school chum who is right knowledgeable about languages and culture and stuff. It was super fun talking to him, and I natter on for ages, just to warn you!

http://www.100percentbusinessenglish.com/american-and-british-culture-with-claire-mcgill/

I also got a chance to gas on BCC radio here in Gloucestershire last week. I promised the presenter it was only this time on the show that I would use the phrase ‘When I was in America’, cos it gets a tad annoying even to my ears!

Sad sad news

My sad new is this: my glorious American tan that I spent ages cultivating has now faded and I feel all white and puffy, since my abs have also disappeared thanks to excess UK fish and chips and cider. Thank gawd for dry September and St Tropez tanning gel!

Fully immersed into British culture

Bank Holibobs

It’s the old August Bank Holibobs which means Monday off for some of us! And this very Sunday is known by many as Sunday Funday. However, for me, it’s DIY Sunday. For three years we’ve not had to do any DIY to our rented house in the USA, but now needs must for upgrading our little UK semi -detached.

Where else to spend a rainy Bank Holiday Sunday than with every other mug who has DIY on the brain than in B&Q. Yes, this British tradition makes me realized that I am now fully immersed in British culture 😉

British stuff through a seven year old’s eyes

I’m totally enjoying seeing and experiencing the UK though Harry’s eyes.

Like the mail dropping on the mat through the letterbox – ‘Someone’s put the post through our door!’ And him having a 99 ice cream and not recognizing a red Royal Mail post box – ‘Is it a photobooth?!’

I suspect school will be a whole different ballgame too next week. Break time, maths with a ‘s’ and spelling. He’s going to love it.

Cider – a very British thing

Actually, make that a  cider and cheese festival. A far more sedate affair than an American festival, and boy Brits do love their cider and cheese!

Happy Bank Holibobs Brits!

Size isn’t everything….

My little British house

When I first went into my little British house last week I was shocked by how small it was. Small and narrow. After a few days it just felt totally normal. And actually rather nice. It was the one bit of coming back to the UK that I was not really looking forward to and now it makes me smile.

But, of course, everything is pretty good in our little house. Our small loo, our small sitting room, our small bedrooms. We managed before and we’ll manage again. And it made me realise that, whilst everything is much bigger in the USA, size really isn’t everything (and many previous boyfriends had told me that in the past…).

Typical British house!

Admittedly we’re on suitcase rations at the moment, since our shipping has yet to arrive, and I’m sure when I encounter frustrating storage issues I’ll be thinking entirely differently, but right now I’m at peace with my little British house.

Our American house was almost too big. We had to yell to each other to communicate in the house, I could never close a door downstairs and have some space to myself, and it was a frigging nightmare to clean (so I basically didn’t – I know, dirty British housewife!!).

With smaller British roads, I’m re-learning driving etiquette and the courtesy of ‘giving way’. How cute – everyone gives that ‘thanks’ wave!

Cheering enthusiastically

That heading should read NOT cheering enthusiastically. It’s become very apparent that the wooping and cheering between Brits and Americans extends to many things. Like Americans do it for everything and Brits do it for bugger all.

Like at Zumba class: ‘How are you all?’ says the British instructor to the British Zumba class. No one replies or they stare at their feet and hands or they just mumble and hope she doesn’t ask them directly. The awkwardness of it all!

However, if this question was asked by an American instructor to an American Zumba group, it would actually be kind of shouted with an expectation of a response, like this: “Woooooooo! How y’all doing’?!? Yeah!’ And then the enthusiastic group of folks would woop and cheer back and perhaps hug or high five one another in a frenzy of anticipation.

Americans love to cheer!

I like the frenzy. I almost shouted “Good thanks, woohoo!’ at Zumba last night, but I would just have looked like a knob, and even though I really wanted to do it in order to show them it can done, I just couldn’t do it in the end. Shame on me!

Next time, chaps!

It’s all coming back to me now….

British Bits and Bobs

Look, I promise not to bleat on about the British weather, but it’s been messing with my head.

Saturday day time: glorious! I mean totes amazeballs, folks. Hooray, England looks beautiful, says young Harry. A beer and cider festival in the day was a very British affair in my parents’ very British village (straight out of a Joanna Trollope book!) but that sunshine made it special.

Saturday night time: heading out for a bit of open air cinema in Cheltenham to support my friend’s market and blow me down, if the heavens didn’t open as soon as we set up to watch the movie (or ‘film’ as my chum kept reminding me it was called on these shores 😉 ).

And Sunday and today? More rain.

‘Is it autumn now in England?’ asks Harry.

‘It feels like bloody winter,’ says I.

That brolly is firmly at my side every step of the way!

British summer’s evening!

Listening to the radio

This is a refreshing and happy experience for me! Songs that probably were rarely, if ever, played on the US radio stations I listened to are literally like music to my ears: The Happy Mondays, New Order, and even Take That (no shame!). Although on Radio 2 everyone is always complaining about the state of affairs in the UK. Must stop listening to Jeremy Vine’s show – bunch of grumps who are too miserable for me! I’m Mrs Positive, innit!

Everything closes early

What’s a working man or woman to do after work? Not go and get a haircut or drop their suit off for dry cleaning or other jobs, that’s for sure – cos everything bloody closes at 5pm!

This I cannot get used to. The joy of late night everything in the USA compared to the day stopping completely here at 5pm. Someone who I might be married to grumbled that it was ‘like living in the 1970s’. Except I do not have flowers in my hair, which I would have had, had I been this age circa 1970-74 🙂 Just sayin’ in a totally non-relevant way.

Cheerio!

British banter in a very British office

So, four days back and I’m in my very British PR office, drinking very British tea and listening to very British conversations.

And they sound like this:

‘Oooh, Peter Andre’s been confirmed for the Strictly line up. I’m not sure I can watch it now….I really disliked him in the jungle programme.’

‘I hate going in lifts because you never know if you should talk to the people in them and I don’t want them to talk to me.’

‘Cilla’s funeral is happening now. Cliff sang at it. Isn’t he under investigation?’

‘It’s raining again. I didn’t bring my brolly.’

‘Did you watch the Great British Bake Off?’

Back on British telly soon!

I’ve also been observing how British people call each other by their surnames (that’s LAST names to you Americans 😉 ).

Like this:

‘Barrett’s getting married next month.’

‘Sweetman’s off sick.’

I don’t recall hearing this surname calling much at all in the USofA.

This is my very British PR office, which reminds me that I am British working in Britain.

Other noteworthy thingymabobs about being back in the UK.

• Everyone drinks tea!
• It’s been raining a lot. 😦
• I had to buy some legging things to wear to work because I have dresses and it is too effing cold to wear them on their own. I mean, I am resorting to LEGGINGS, (which, by the way, if not bought and used properly as workout leggings, are on par with tights as being the most hideous items ever to wear and should be banned from all good retailers.) It really is much colder than I remember in England and it’s AUGUST FFS!
• I keep spotting many people that used to be present in my life or pass me by in my daily routines. Like the young man who goes down the road at 8am in his electric wheelchair, and the over-enthusiastic lady with the bleached blonde beehive who is still at the till in Next, and the grumpy chap who works in the pharmacy, and the girls netball teams whom I play against, and my neighbours who are still doing everything they ever did.

It’s been interesting to see them all just getting on with their lives and it feels like three years never happened. They’re just all doing the same thing, though I am sure other things have changed. But when I see them I feel like I’m in a timewarp; like I never had my time in the USA and it was all a dream. A very wonderful dream.

Cultural Discombobulation Innit!

DISCOMBOBULATION

verb (used with object), discombobulated, discombobulating.

1. to confuse or disconcert; upset; frustrate:

As in ‘The British expat was completely discombobulated by the return to her own country.’

Yep, that is me right now. It’s been a crazy return already, and I haven’t stopped because tomorrow I start work and there is sooooo much to do!

So, this is what’s occurring, in no particular order:

1. My cats are well happy to be back. They’re looking at me with big yellow ‘thank you’ eyes.

Happy cat!

2. Harry is super happy to be back too. He loves our little house and our little cabin in our garden and he doesn’t care how small they are because they are his. He also has no idea what a radiator is. So much to learn.

3. I did not know how to fill up with gas (ugh, I mean petrol!) at a British petrol station and had to phone my mum to ask her. Britain, let’s do the pay at pump machines more – it’s so much quicker and prevents me from having to go into the garage shop and buying Cadbury’s Buttons as well. Yes, folks, REAL chocolate!

4. Fish and chips taste like they should do, but they don’t come in paper. Sad news.

No paper, folks

5. I feel like Gulliver in Lilliput. At first I thought someone had shrunk my house, after all that big American stuff I was used to. Forty eight hours later it just feels normal.

6. People in England are much friendlier than I remembered! Everyone’s so helpful and smiley. Who’d have thunk it? 🙂

7. Some people appear to be disappointed that I haven’t picked up an American accent. I am not Joss Stone FFS!

8. The Gloucestershire accent is making me smile. It’s so bloody West Country – oohaarr!

9. I have only got into the wrong side of the car once. I have yet to drive on the wrong side!

10. Traffic lights. There are lots of them and it sucks that you can’t turn left on red. This needs to happen, Britain!

11. My parents are amazing. They’ve totally helped me out massively!

12. I can’t find any of my Boots or Sainsbury’s or Tesco’s rewards cards and it’s doing my head in. I need my points!

13. I think I appreciate the higgledy piggledy joy of England a little more today than I did yesterday. It will grow on me.

My garden needs some TLC!

Cheers y’all! Onwards with the cultural challenges!

Keeping it together!

I was totally keeping it together about leaving Columbia, Howard County, America this past week. Keeping busy is the key. Bouts of sadness have happened, but I’ve been trying to be positive and keep that British stiff upper lip in check!

Then, this morning, out of the blue, something happened and the bloody waterworks will not subside!

Thanks to my lovely friend Tom, who is a prominent Howard County blogger and community activist, who wrote this piece that set me off. FYI, Dior waterproof mascara is not as waterproof as they suggest.

Tom and Nicole – my BFFs

Lordy, I’ll miss this place. Just sitting at the lakefront yesterday listening to a band, having dinner at one of the newer restaurants while an orchestra played, and talking to some of the people I’ve met during my time here made me remember what I wanted to experience when I arrived three years ago. I just wanted to taste, smell and be part of something different – and I’ve certainly had that in my life whilst living here. I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Columbia lakefront

Honestly, when I return, I’m not sure how I’m going to interpret England again. The reverse culture shock is going to hit me hard, I know it.

Leaving is hard, saying goodbye is harder. It’s going to be a tough few days.

The Stressful Week of Return

‘Holy moly’, ‘WTF’, ‘it had better be worth it’, ‘why is it all so complicated?’. These and many additional British expletives have passed my lips this week.

One: getting the cats sorted to travel. Hard bloody work. I love my mittens with all my heart and bringing them was a key stipulation when we decided to come to the States, but, by Gawd, it’s been a painful process with the vets and the British customs folks getting them sorted for the return – as it stands they would FAIL getting entry to the UK cos my dozy effing vet messed up some dates on their entry forms and now I’m having to sort that and it is TAKING UP ALL MY TIME. But rest assured, my pussies will see the other side of the pond again, as I will get this sorted! It was a piece of ruddy cake bringing them over, so it’s been a shock to the system.

Two: selling cars. Not easy USA stylie. I can’t even tell you the process for license plates and documents. It is beyond my comprehension. I just know that if you sell a car privately they can’t just drive it away. Don’t get it. The End.

I shan’t bore you with other bits, like moldy bread in the hotel room and no internet for nearly three hours – I know – three whole hours!!!! Just when I needed to scan the cats’ documents to the UK Animal Welfare Centre. A few choice British swear words popped out my gob, I can tell you.

However, we fly in four days. FOUR DAYS?! Oh my! So many people to see, so much paperwork still to complete.

But, partying has still occurred – don’t doubt that! And after my infatuation with American drive thrus, I chanced upon a Liquor Store Drive Thru which obviously needed my immediate attention. But since I did not have my car, we took the journey on foot, much to the amusement of the cars behind us.

‘May I have a beer please.’

‘The minimum is six.’

‘Then I shall take six, if you please.’

Drive Thru Liquor Store – job done! You don’t get those in England!

And breathe!