THE BLOG

Living Amongst the Brits - A Yank's Story

23/01/2013 13:28 GMT | Updated 24/03/2013 09:12 GMT

With another four years in office, and the eyes of the world once again upon him, Barack Obama has promised change (again).

A strong statement, but one which I can say I relate to. As an American living in London for nearly ten years I have had no option but to deliver change.

Ok, so perhaps not quite on the same level as the President of America- but a definite change noticeable to my friends and family.

I answer the phone with a very drawn out 'Hiyaaaaa love, you alright?', I've tried to perfect the art of making the best Yorkshire Puddings (dismally failing nearly every time), and I hate to admit it, but sometimes, I drink until I can't even remember how I got home.

This may sound the norm to you (although the drinking bit isn't really THAT normal), but to me it's terrifying. I am losing my American charm and turning into your stereotypical Brit. I go back to America, and the large portions scare me, the cheesy sense of humour makes me cringe and the bad trainers - well I don't really need to go into detail.

As a born and bred American, I moved over to England nearly ten years ago. Within that time I've lived in Leeds (hence the love of the Yorkshire pudding) and London. Aside from my two family members who live in the same country as me, I have no other 'yanks' to keep me grounded to my American roots. I surround myself with people from the north, south, east and west. I've learned the ways of nearly all of you lovely Brits - and it's truly fascinating.

Take for instance, when I first moved over to England. Having the word, 'ginger' screamed at me in the street (yes, I am a 'ginge') used to make me cry. Now, I freely throw back an insult to the 'twat', thinking it's funny to hurl abuse left, right and centre. Wait, what is this called? Sarcasm. I've perfected the art of what you British people think is absolutely hilarious.

I've also learned to talk like my flatmate (who is a stereotypical northerner), and call everyone 'babes'. Men are fit not hot, and really fit men are 'raving sorts'.

Now you're probably all thinking what's the point of this blog? To assess I suppose. If there is anyone to assess the weird and wonderful ways of the British folk, I guess it's an outsider. The outsider being a slightly judgmental, pretty annoying, over-the-top American.

Your favourite type of person.

Why do you whinge when it's cold, but then whinge when it's hot? Why are you only really most comfortable when it's raining? How come it's completely normal for you southerners to use the word 'c**t' as a term of endearment? These are things that quite frankly, after ten years I still don't get.

But I will get to the bottom of it.

I will also get to the bottom of being an American in London. I may act like a bit like a Brit, but I am still a Yank. I thrive off of really greasy fried chicken and am exceptionally annoyingly positive even in situations that deserve absolutely no positivity at all. What I really want to know is where the best of America is hiding in England, and I will find it. Where is the best milkshake in London? Where can I watch the Superbowl (I am a Baltimorean and the Ravens are playing/ Destiny's Child are the half-time act) without feeling like a typical American tourist? Can I actually buy Lucky Charms for less than a (scandalous) £10 a box?

And fortunately for everyone, I will figure all of this out with the over-dramatic, nauseating and loud: "OH MY GAWD".