Hi, folks.
I’m back from my unintentional sabbatical. The past seven weeks included trips to four cities on two continents, a lot of visiting and alone time, some sport, some play, a LOT of work, a lot of joy and some heartbreak. All of which will make it into my writing at some time, but, right now a lot of it is best kept internally. There are some serious “What the fuck was I thinking?”moments in there, so, there is a lot of personal growth going on?
So, how is expat life so far at the five month mark?
As I sit here on the 9:00am First Great Western service to Bristol Temple Meads, calling at Reading (where I am disembarking the train for work), things are relatively predictable yet still awkward. I don’t really feel like I am in a standard routine. Which for a guy who is borderline OCD, that can be a very dangerous place indeed. I mean, most of that is my own doing, as I did choose to spend three and a half weeks out of the past seven in Asia and the US. But, I somehow thought that it would be a little easier getting into the swing of things.
But, as my firepluggy Italian friend Mario would say – “Honey, you’re human. Give yourself some credit. You moved 5000 miles away. You’re single, smart and sexy in one of the world’s greatest cities. Enjoy it, have some fun and go fuck everything that moves. Now, how about some Carbonara?”
Mario always has the best advice.
Anyway, I digress…
Things I’ve learned or relearned while being here in London:
1. I am a pub or wine bar kind of guy, not a major clubber. – Barring the days when I used to go to Sensations or B’zar in East Lansing at the ages of 19-23, I’m just not a dance club sort of fella. First of all, I think I’m going a little deaf like my father and it becomes absolutely impossible to talk with anyone in a club that plays a bunch of “Nnnn-tch, nnn-tch, nnn-tch, nnn-tch….” type of music. However, give me a retro ’80’s night or some Motown B-side soul and I’m on it. Don’t expect the latest review of Fire or Hustlaball here. I’m just not down for it.
2. Rainy days equal museums for me. – When I was a kid, my mom and her best friend Susan would take my sisters and I and Susan’s kids to the Detroit Institute of Arts. We’d spend time in the exhibits, but, we’d also climb up and down the secret spiral staircase, run up and down the rainbow tunnel, and have lunch in the enclosed Kresge Courtyard, surrounded by ancient and significant pieces of cultural works. Granted, this would happen mostly on days where it was raining or ungodly hot; but, at a young age, I became a museophile. And, frankly on a rainy day, I’d rather walk around inside a cultural icon like the Victoria and Albert Museum then sit at home on the couch watching Jersey Shore or thirtysomething reruns.
3. Doing nothing is hard in a city like London. – There is so. much. to. fucking. do. As a person who thrives on new experiences and overstimulation, I want to do everything. And, in some senses, I push myself to try to do just that. However, there are times where you need to rest and recharge and I find myself skipping those times too much, to the point where it catches up to me big time.
4. England is gorgeous in the spring. – My allergies may not think so, but, this is one of the most beautiful places that I have ever been at this time of year, ranking right up there with Seattle and Buenos Aires. The lush spring greens, the blooming lavender; the sea of ferns and leafy ground cover make this place an absolute pleasure to enjoy.
5. I miss driving, Hot Mama’s pizza, White Castle cheeseburgers, brunch at the 5 Spot, homemade and fresh Pho, affordable sushi, Zingerman’s Oswald’s Mile High sandwich, tumble dryers, the sight of Mount Rainier over Lake Washington, the smell of a freshly resurfaced sheet of ice before a hockey game, Target, sand beaches on fresh lake water, kayaking down the Huron River, BD’s Mongolian BBQ, Downy Fabric Softener, Seattle Quake Rugby and my dog, Zac – may he rest in peace.
More to come later, as there’s so much to publish.
American Expat in London 
Jeff, thanks for sharing, I love reading your blog. And I share some of your feelings – even after all this time. When I’m here there are things I miss about NYC, and when there, things I’d kill for here in London.
I loved spring growing up in Chicago – but you’re right, its magnificent here, in part because no one loves a good garden like a Brit. Why can they work miracles in a postage stamp sized space when we need a minimum of 5 acres I’ll never know.
I’ve found passable pizza (try Pizza East in Shoreditch – or closer, their new locale near Portobello Road), more than passable burgers (Byron, on Haymarket), great steaks (Hawksmoor of course), affordable sushi (Makiyaki in Wimbledon), and three of the best scotch eggs on the planet (Prince of Wales in Putney, Golds in Spitalfields, and The Fox and Grapes on Wimbledon Common). Who knew?
I love the beer, endless tall pints of it, can’t live without the view down the river on the bridge between Charing Cross and Waterloo, there’s nothing like Borough Market early Saturday morning with a walk all the way round South Bank to Waterloo, and the Eurostar to Paris, n’est-ce pas? Five months is nothing yet, the weeks away I’m sure were good and bad, and you’re never alone here mate. You’ve got the digits.
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