Differences Between the US and the UK

I'm not going to get all the differences in one blog, obviously, but these are just some of the biggies that have leapt out at me, or irritate me, or amuse me, etc.  I'm probably going to name brands and stuff but please don't sue me because I don't own any of these brands, nor have I been paid to say good or bad things about anything!

Ok, so biggest thing, and I know it's a cliche, but it rains in England.  A lot.  A girl from school moved here from Seattle, you know, the Rainy City?  And she says it rains here so much more than it did in Seattle.  Oh, my California readers are thinking, "I love the rain!  I wish it would rain here more."  Alright, fair enough.  But let me tell you now, I used to love the rain.  It's easy to love the rain when it happens ten times a year.  Not so much when it's every day.  For a week.  And then cloudy.  And then raining again.  Trust me.





One that I didn't expect is the complete lack of window screens.  Maybe it's because it's pretty cold for 10 months out of the year so there aren't many open windows for the majority of the time.  Thus, I'm guessing, no window screens.  I really miss them because on those days where you HAVE to open the window, either because the sun is shining and it's actually over 60 degrees, or because it's been so cold that they haven't been open in a month and the house is almost too stuffy to live in, bugs come in.  The house is a tiny bit warmer than the outside so bugs flock to the open window in the millions.  The worst part are all the spiders!  I hate sleeping in my bed after the window has been open because it's like they know!!  They love my pillow!  ~Cries~

Next, there is the language barrier.  In England, one pronounces fillet with the 't' while in the US we pronounce it like ballet, with an 'ay' at the end.  I've been laughed at here when I talk about my pants, which is a completely normal thing to talk about in America.  However, in the UK, pants means underwear.  English calls them trousers.    Oh, and when someone says that another person is 'fit' they don't mean physically muscled and/or strong.  'Fit' means 'hot' here.  I got that one wrong the first time I heard it!


Did anyone else know that English cars have steering wheels on the right side of the car?  And by the right side, I mean of course, the wrong side.  I knew they drove on the wrong side of the road, (which makes crossing the street incredibly scary).  I've almost been hit a couple times while I was diligently looking left for oncoming traffic) but I didn't know that car manufacturers had to make the cars all backwards too.  That's just inconsiderate!
 And lastly, for this blog at least, is transportation.  I always had a car in the US.  I could leave when I wanted and go straight to where ever I as going.  Here, the streets are narrow, and a little backwards.  This, I probably wouldn't want to drive even if we were to get a car.  So, I take the tube and the bus unless I'm walking.  Taking the tube isn't so bad, except that some times there's a lot of travelling south and then a lot of travelling west instead of just travelling south-west, so extra time is put on the trip.  The bus is more work.  I always try to check an app I have on my phone that tells me when the bus is getting to a particular stop because otherwise, I could be waiting in the rain and cold for 15 minutes until the next bus comes.  Travelling here, takes a lot more forethought and time. On the other hand, I get a lot more reading done because I can read my kindle on the tube and bus, which makes up for all the extra time it takes.

Toilet Entertainment

Ok, I know this topic isn't exactly the high brow stuff I usually talk about, but it was on my mind today, so I thought I'd share.  Feel free to look up posts on flower arrangements or something if this isn't your cup of tea!

Anyway, I remember being little, barely into double digit age range and talking to my dad about what he was reading.  Often said that he was still reading the same book as the last few times I'd asked.  When I asked him what was taking so long, he told me that he only read a few pages at a time because he was reading it in the bathroom.  'Ew!' I thought, and probably said aloud because I was not the most discrete child ever. "Well I like to go in, sit down, and then get out!" I think I replied.  "I like to concentrate... or not concentrate."

But now?  I've joined the ranks of the people who do stuff, other than bathroom stuff, in the bathroom.  I hate  being caught out doing my business without my phone or kindle.  I would scream in frustration when I forget, but I think it might be taken the wrong way by others in the house, and that would just be embarrassing.

I was wondering, as I found myself without my phone or kindle today, why I dislike just not concentrating now.  I tell myself that it seems like a waste of time, but really, is a couple minutes a day away from outside stimulation really that bad?  Really that detrimental?  Perhaps I'm just part of the 'problem generation' that needs to be entertained during every waking second of the day.  That would be a bit depressing... but my dad did it before me, so it can't be the generation thing.

So I'm just going to have to leave this blog, still pondering.

Back to our regularly scheduled, non-potty related, information.

So Very Cold

Don't know if this has happened to anyone else, or if I'm just incredibly but I have a pretty, semi-permanent vertical stripe on my lower lip tonight.  Please stay with me while I set the scene of my corporeal mortification.

It's 8:30 in the morning and I'm bundled up in a shirt, a sweater, and a coat as I'm walking briskly towards school, lamenting that at my age I'm still subjected to the indignities of walking to school.  My foggy breath is blown away from me almost as soon as it leaves my mouth because a nice little breeze is making me wish I had a snow jacket instead of normal one.  Lastly, I'm trying not to slip on the ice because the ground is frozen over and all the puddles (and this being London, there are more puddles than dry ground) are glistening like uneven glass

All that, to say that it was really cold.  You got that right?  I'm walking to school and it's below freezing outside? Ok, good.  Just checking.

Anyway, so I am tired of my neck trying to handle the cold from without and  within as I breathe in the icy air.  So, I take the zipper which was nestled at the base of my throat over the shirt and sweater, and pull it all the way up so that the collar becomes a nice little tube that comes up to just above my chin.  About to the level of my lower lip actually.

Kinda like this

I breathe out and immediately my glasses fog up because all the humid air hits the collar and shoots up.  And at that moment when I am blind and a little numb from the cold, I feel my lip stick to the freezing cold zipper that I had just pulled up.  The condensation from my breath had frozen my lip to the zipper in an instant.
Remember the movie Dumb and Dumber with Jim Carrey where the other guy gets his tongue frozen to the icy pole on his ski vacation? Yeah, that was me, only thankfully, a little more private and a little easier to fix.  I very nearly panicked and yanked the zipper, which would have resulted in a fat lip and a bloody chin, I'm sure.  Luckily, my fingers were too numb to react quickly and I was able to think of a better solution before I did something stupid.

I just breathed again, and again and again, letting the heat from my breath melt the ice on the zipper until it and my lip were separated as painlessly as possible.

I MISS YOU CALIFORNIA!!!

Learning to Ski

I'm 29 and have gone for the very first time to learn how to snow ski.  One of my biggest fears before going, besides ending up on my back with a bone breaking through the skin in my leg, was that I'd get sick of seeing little 6 year olds zipping past me in their little pink boots, and get frustrated.  Everyone knows what I'm talking about, right?  Like when you're at the skating rink and little pre-pubescent brats whoosh past, doing spins or jumps or other things that make the dark part of you want to stick a foot out and trip them?  That's not just me, is it?

 

Anyway, I was so excited the morning we left to the indoor ski place.  I'd packed or worn almost every warm thing I owned (to my later regret) and we took the train.  Xinye and I got into the building and lined up for our equipment, which included a snow suit, a helmet, boots and skis.  Where were our sticks??  Well, apparently they're not for anything but balance and we weren't going to be going fast enough on the little kiddie slope to need them.


Sorry this is blurry, but it's totally me!!

Ok, that's not me.  But anyway, I did the best in my class (which were all adults, thank goodness) because skiing turns out to be so similar to roller blading and I was able to recall my time playing hockey well enough to look like I was amazing.  Semi-amazing.  Not bad.  Adequate.  You get the idea.  Turns out skiing is kind of tough on the knees because you have to turn your feet inward to control your speed, but you're also supposed to lean forward at the same time.

I never did get to try going down the big grown-up hill because we ran out of time (that's my story and I'm sticking to it), but the instructor said that next time I come back, I would probably be ready to try the big girl hill.  Woohoo!  

Oh yes, and it took so much energy that I was sweating in all my layers, bra, long-john shirt, shirt, sweater, coat and finally, snow-suit within 10 minutes of starting and had to take half of it off during the lunch break, which got me really cold since everything I still had on was wet.  And the duffle back was twice as heavy as it needed to be as we travelled to and from the train stations.  But, aw well.  You live, you learn!  And I'd do it again in a heart beat.  I'm interested in trying an outdoor slope next!