down to plymouth

This morning when I got off the tube it smelled of french toast. This is weird because a) they don’t do french toast in England and b) even if they did, they probably wouldn’t serve it at Temple tube station. But it is one of those things that triggered a memory for me. When I worked at a summer camp I worked in the kitchen. Smelling food early in the morning whilst outside always makes me think of that. Once we finished serving breakfast all the staff would eat outside, just as the sun was starting to warm everything up. Those are good memories. Weird memories, as it was church camp, but good none the less.

There are many things I wish about the wedding. While I am absolutely thrilled to be having it in England, there is part of me that wishes it could be in California. Really wishes. I wish we could have pie for dessert. I like pie. The Brits do savory pie quite well. But ask them to make you an apple pie or a pecan pie? You’ll either get a blank stare or some really bad pie. OR in our case, if I really was wedded to pie, we would probably pay an arm and a leg for nice pie. I also wish that all of my college friends could be there. As it looks we may have two, but that is still up in the air. I miss those girls I relied on and wonder if we will ever all be in the same place again, even if it is just for lunch (or wine). I wish our wedding was a little more country casual, but forget about finding mason jars in the UK. I wish my grandparents could be there. They are too fragile to travel so far. And they have two mini poodles that they won’t leave. Now from the outside the poodle thing seems absurd, you would just have to know them to get it. Or, maybe all elderly people become v. attached to their pets. I wish we could have smores. It isn’t the lack of graham crackers, it is the lack of open flame.

Tomorrow is the meeting with all the venue people and etc. Maybe it is that I am worried I won’t be able to get what I am seeing for the wedding day across. Maybe I am worried the English will think I am weird to want this casual vibe. Maybe I am worried they will be offended because I want something a bit different than they would expect. Maybe what it is is that I am very worried they will not have a clue of what I am talking about and with all my expansive vocabulary I will still be unable to make them understand. Maybe it is that I had a lovely conversation with B yesterday about the joys of taco bell and now would give anything to be home.

America and England share the same language but we have cultural divides all over the place.  I am bringing lots of pictures, lots and lots of pictures. I don’t want to use the word country because I don’t want cowboy boots. Rustic may be better. And simple. And whimsical? Rob and I will make a list on the train. He is English, I will use him as a translator.

I know I blog quite a bit about missing home. It is because I do. everyday. But I know that this is an amazing experience for me and I don’t take it for granted, I promise. I am making the most out of my two years in England, even if I do feel the tug of California on a regular basis. I know that most college grads don’t get to flit off to England for two years, I am very lucky.

I also know that this is a very long blog. It is because I haven’t blogged extensively in awhile. It was because of the grades. The dreaded grades that were doing my head in. They really were. Yet now I am pausing to try to figure out if ‘doing my head in’ is an American phrase or an English phrase and I can’t remember. That is when you know you have assimilated, when you can’t distinguish your vocubulary from theirs. Back on topic, I found out the grades yesterday and I passed everything. I am v. pleased and working even harder on this second set of papers. I want a 2:1 (B+) for my degree overall. We’ll see how that goes.

over and out.

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