My native language

So, maybe my career as an English teacher isn't as beneficial as I once thought... Living here, I've come to realize that maybe I don't actually speak English at all. I speak "American." Which, by the way, the British don't consider a language. Yet I assure you that if more of them came to visit us, they'd discover that it isn't really the same at all!
For instance:
The use of the letter "z." Here, they frown upon using this letter in favor of the letter "s." So words like "realise," "socialise," and "organise." All look strange, but are pronounced exactly the same. In addition, this letter is not pronounced as "zee" and rhyming with "see," but as "zed," which rhymes with "dead." That just ruins the alphabet song!
They also overuse the letter "u" and add it unnecessarily to words like "colour," "favour," and "neighbour."
I'm started to integrate little used words like "well," "fit," "proper," "wicked," and "right" into my vocabulary. As in "That bloke is well fit and it would be wicked if he was a right proper dancer!" Translation: "That guy's really hot and it would be great if he was a good dancer!"
Also, what's a lorrie have to do with an 18 wheeler? Doesn't lorrie sound delicate and fragile to you? It does not at all imply the behemoth machine that TRUCK does in American.
Courgette=zucchini (Stupid Brits! Courgette isn't even English, it's French!)
Aubergine=eggplant (Aubergine- there they go with the French again! Lucky thing I do speak that!)
Crisps=potato chips (Huh?)
Chips=fries (OK, I know that one from 'fish and chips,' but seriously!)
Football=soccer (Damn you David Beckham!)
To end my rant, I'd like to know what phonetic rules govern the pronunciation of the words "vitamin" and "Leicester." In vitamin why does the UK use the short "i" twice, yet in the US we have one long "i" and one short "i?" What's the deal? In addition, there are too many vowels for the word "Leicester" to be pronounced "Lester!"
*I do however, concede the pronunciation of the word "aluminium." We Yanks tend to leave out a syllable or so...our bad! Silly former colony!

Eyes Wide Shut

2 weeks into my trip and I'd almost written London off as lame, but then I had a great weekend!
Chris, my former Tango partner, invited me to a masquerade ball on Saturday night. It was hosted by a group of expats living in London called the nomads. We (Chris, his friend Yomi, and I) spent an hour in the costume shop (think Kubrick's final film) picking masks, the guys got capes and ruffly, satin shirts, I got a feather boa. It was hysterical trying on all of the crazy get ups! Afterwards, we headed to the Hoxton Square Bar & Grill (one of the few places in London that serves American style breakfast- i.e. pancakes & fried [not boiled] bacon).
I'd just poured the syrup on my pancakes when this scrawny guy walks in & starts yelling at a couple sitting behind us. He says, "This is who you're cheating on me with? This is who you're leaving me for? You said you were having lunch with Claire! Is that Claire?" At this point, a hush fell over the crowd as we all stopped to stare for a moment in disbelief. Then, as British politeness dictates, we all turned away & pretended not to still be listening. The man continued, "Come outside guy! We can settle this like men! Let's take it outside!" The woman's date never spoke, nor moved. The woman jumped up and screamed, "Why are you doing this? Not here! Not now!" She pushed him out the door as she spoke. They staged whispered on the sidewalk outside. Then the man screamed to the date, who was patiently waiting at the table for the woman to return, "She slept with me last night!" Hilarious!
The waitresses finally told the man that if he did not leave they were calling security. He left...sort of. He really stood outside in the square for 15 minutes waiting for the other guy to come out of the restaurant. He was dead set on the two of them handling things like men. The woman came back inside, got her purse, and left her date sitting there! When the crazy guy saw her leave, he followed. About 20 mins later, the date slipped out the back door. What fun mealtime entertainment!
Later that evening, Yomi texted Chris to say that he saw the woman & Claire on the tube! Ha!
The masquerade ball was lame-ish. It was at #1 Leicester (why this word is pronounced "Lester," I'll never know) Square, which had a superb view of London at night! You could see the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, the London Eye! It was lovely! The music was all over the place & people weren't really dancing because the groove switched every other song. One minute you and J. Timberlake were bringing sexy back, the next Luther Vandross was telling you how a thousand kisses from you was never too much, then you'd be dancing on the ceiling with Lionel Ritchie. Crazy! We stayed for quite a while, despite the wacky DJ. There was also this Italian guy who wanted my body, but...well nevermind, he's not important. 3 Red Bull-vodkas later, we ended up at Chinawhite.
Apparently, this apparently is the hip spot to see & be seen in London. I was over it after having to wait at the door for 10 minutes when the bouncers heckled our masks! We did get in however, and the music was better. The bartender was also hotter! *drooling* We shook our groove thing for a bit until this group of girls pulled me over to their corner of the room where we proceeded to dance on the table! So much fun. We screamed introductions over the loud music & they invited me to join them at another club. I said goodbye to Chris & Yomi and headed to Mo*Vida. It was closing by the time we got there, so we danced to about 2 songs, gulped some champagne & left. Crazy!
The ladies wanted McDonald's hash browns (long story), but all of the McDonald's were closed. We decided to take the night bus (always a laugh riot in Europe!) to one of their houses for an after party. We got there, loud & drunk & I lost my feather boa as it slipped off onto the floor of the bus as I stepped off...
We had toast, as our hostess had no hash browns to offer us @ 5:30am, and went to bed.
We spent the next delightful day getting to know one another.
There was Natasha, a 31 year old, Dutch/Guyanese, former Samba dancer, who now works at a bank. Lisa, the 22 year old, South African, model/makeup artist, who starts nursing school in September. Vina, the 30 year old, English woman, who often gets mistaken for being Southeast Asian (her parents are Indian & grew up in Kenya, but she's never been to either place). She is also a makeup artist & best friends with Lisa.
Vina & Natasha met on Thursday at Lisa's fashion show and decided to go out on Saturday night, where they met me! We drank wine, Natasha gave up Samba lessons, we had dinner & lots of laughs! We called it a night at 11pm because some of us had to work in the morning! Thank heaven for lazy days! I'm wiped out!
It was good stuff!
I'm so glad to finally have fun here & enjoy myself!

Here

It took no time at all. Now I'm here. Settling in, trying to adjust to this lame weather and occasionally incomprehensible accents. I've been really homesick. I think it's the clouds and rain that are doing it. I hate that I'm missing summer. The weather here is the spring extended remix. Clouds, rain, sun, clouds, more rain, rain again, then clouds, did I mention rain? It doesn't make for a very warm welcome (excuse the pun) to the country.
My new home will be suburban. I'm staying in the dorms of the local university. It's spartan accommodation- no TV, no Internet. I've spent a fortune at the local Internet cafe! Thus I've had no time to blog. At $2/hr it's too expensive. Shout outs to Roger and Quentin for letting me house sit in their flat, watch their TV & use their Internet in exchange for some sewing and light housekeeping. I feel so comfy here that I don't want to leave! I'm such a slug... Tomorrow is moving day. It was supposed to be today, but the paperwork wasn't ready, so I wait... I found a nice 2 bedroom place which is close to work, shopping, and the tube! It already has a TV & Internet set up. I met with the landlord on Saturday. She's kind and accommodating. She'll also be in Australia when we live in her place...
This entire house hunting thing is bizarre. At home, you get the apartment shoppers guide & choose a few places. Then you go see them, fill out the rental applications & move into whichever place you've chosen. Here you have to hire the equivalent of a real estate agent to find places for you and show you what (s)he found. Then they negotiate with the landlord on your behalf, you do paperwork and whoever give the landlord the best offer gets the place.
I lost a darling little house that way. I wanted the landlord to include bedroom furniture and lower the rent. He said OK, but I was out bid by someone who didn't need furniture. Boo! It's all good though. The new place is nice too!
OK enough blogging for today...I'm supposed to be at the Tower of London or something right now. Sightseeing instead of couch surfing...curse this comfy couch!!!!

I love it when a plan comes together!

Despite my worry wart tendencies, my trip is all working out according to plan!
I sold my car.
I have my passport back (ulcer inducing visa included! [See the last post for the back story on that drama.]).
My plane ticket is all set.
I have a hotel room booked for my house hunting.
Someone from school will meet me at the airport to take me to the hotel & help me house hunt.
I'll already have a cell phone waiting for me.
Friends will soon visit. (Shout out to Mark Lewis!)
Who can ask for anything more?? Now I just have to pack...
That's always the tragic flaw in my plan. I hate packing, ok, hate's too strong. I don't like packing. I'm a notorious over packer. My grandmother, Bessie, always said that it was better to have it, and not need it than to need it, and not have it. I pack as if preparing for nuclear fallout. There's clothing, food, miscellaneous items for diversion and recreation. You name it, it packed it. That's why it takes me forever to do. Not to mention the fact that I'm also a packing procrastinator, so I just started packing yesterday. Not to worry, I'll be done by the time my flight leaves! (Thank God for night flights!)
To add to my packing woes, my job sent me the world's most arbitrary list of things to bring. This list included thing I NEVER would have thought of packing. See excerpts below and my italicized annotations:

• Secure original (official) copies of birth certificates, marriage licenses, and divorce records. Why wouldn't I have these already? I just needed them for my passport, visa, work permit, and just about everything else related to making this move. I'd be a nut not to bring them with me.
• Obtain 10 to 20 passport type photos to be used for formal documentation, membership applications, etc. Is it me, or does the number 20 seem excessive? I feel like 10 was reasonable, but 20? Really? 20?
• Include extra photocopies of passport, certificates, contracts, household inventories, and driver’s licenses in a records binder for convenience. So I need originals AND copies? Must they be in a binder?
• We advise a good comforter/blanket. However, don’t bring flat or fitted sheets since the sizes of the mattresses are different here. So how will a comforter fit if the sheets won't? Don't they sell comforters in the UK?
• Clothes, shoes, etc. (clothes are very expensive here so bring as many as you can from your country of residence.) Isn't this one obvious?
• Bulletin board materials, stickers, and holiday pencils (They don’t have teacher stores here.) So you're saying that the school doesn't provide this either... I thought private schools were better equipped than public schools. This is some crap!
• Bring towels, measuring cups, and large kitchen spoons. Large kitchen spoons? What? And they must not sell towels either, huh?
• Bring photocopies of the last 6 months of bank statements. What am I? Under financial investigation????
• Bring multiple passport photos. Didn't we cover this already? I got it, 20 photos, ok!
• Contact respective consulate/embassies and inquire about customs duties and special restrictions. To avoid customs duty, you may need to bring receipts to prove that your goods are used. If it's used, chances are that I no longer have a receipts. How do you prove something is used? Should I pack dirty things?

What a crazy list! I feel more settled about this whole endeavor now. Excitement is starting to creep in now that my departure date is getting closer and the move is starting to feel real to me. Hey, wow, I'm moving to another country to live and work for 2 years- cool!
Alright, enough with the dilly dallying...back to packing... :(