Success.

Thanksgiving was wonderful. So much food and such wonderful friends. And the turkey was great, which was a total relief! Though I needn't have worried. Laurent and I are a pretty stellar team when it comes to kitchen-related endeavors.

Undisputed turkey champions of the world.

After we had eaten, we put some football on (American, of course) and just kind of laid around our living room. At one point, someone suggested games, but that got vetoed because we were all too full to move...which is how you know your Thanksgiving is a success: food-induced lethargy.

It was a lovely evening. I went to bed feeling very blessed.
 

Thanksgiving abroad (round two).

There is a turkey in my refrigerator -- my teeny tiny, shoebox of a refrigerator. I'm not sure how we fit it in there, what with the 5 individuals already sharing the cramped space, but it's there nonetheless.

   

It's there because it's Thanksgiving -- well, almost. Tomorrow is the actual holiday, but as the UK doesn't recognize it and therefore does not give you the day off, we're postponing our celebrations till the weekend. Because as anyone who's ever hosted Thanksgiving dinner can tell you, it's impossible to prepare the kind of feast warranted by this occasion unless you have an entire day to do it.

 

This is my second Thanksgiving abroad. Last year was kind of crazy, because (1) it was my first Thanksgiving away from home, (2) it was the first time I'd ever had to plan a Thanksgiving dinner, and (3) I had never made a turkey before. This year it isn't quite so intimidating, seeing as how it's not all new. Still, I kind of get nervous whenever I open my fridge and see that turkey sitting there, large and imposing, reminding me that I don't really know what I'm doing. But we pulled it off last year, so I'm pretty confident we'll be able to do it again.

 

And, even if nothing else goes right, we'll still have pie. I'm good at pie.

 

Happy Thanksgiving!

 

Squiggly red lines.

As what some may call an overly grammar-conscious individual, I pride myself on my proofreading skills. I'm the kind of person who uses punctuation in text messages, and I never send an email without rereading it. So imagine my horror when I realiz(s)ed that, upon arriving in Britain, pretty much everything I'd ever written instantly became littered with spelling errors.

And it's all because British people spell things wrong weird. 

It really does make a difference.

 Consider, for example, the following words I had to change in a document, simply because it was drafted in our DC office, and we needed a UK version. The American spelling is listed first:

program v. programme

center v. centre

analyze v. analyse

color v. colour

revitalizing v. revitalising

pediatric v. paediatric

counseling v. counselling

mobilized v. mobilised

dispatched v. despatched

maximizes v. maximises

organizational v. organisational

You may have noticed that Brits don't really care for the letter 'z', but they are quite happy to add extra letters and move others around, often in blatant disregard of phonetics.

After a year here, most of which has been spent writing academic papers, I've grown accustomed to these silly spellings. Perhaps too accustomed, as I'll occasionally accidentally use a British spelling when writing to an American friend. (Incidentally, this always makes me feel like a bit of a traitor.) But I typically try to adjust my spelling based on who will be reading it. Kind of like how I talk football with my housemates, but soccer with my friends from home.

Anyway, many of these American spellings are widely accepted, even if they're not preferred. As I'm writing this with a UK spellcheck, the words center,  analyze, color, pediatric, and counseling all have squiggly red lines below them. However, the others aren't flagged as incorrect. 

This can be problematic, because sometimes when I'm editing things for work, I won't catch them -- either out of habit or ignorance (my untrained American eyes refuse to believe that 'program' is missing some letters.) -- and neither will spell check. 

And then I get made fun of.

But not anywhere near as much as the first time my coworkers heard me say the word, "y'all." That was a whole nother level of hilarity, my friends.

Happy Monday, and may your computer's spell check be ever more zealous than mine.

 

"First, you take the graham..."

Last night, myself and the other Americans in the building decided that it was time to share some of our culture with our international friends. So we put on The Sandlot (which most people hadn't seen) and made s'mores (which most people hadn't had). Because, really, that's about as American as it gets. Except for maybe apple pie, but that takes a little more planning.

You may notice that some of the marshmallows in these pictures are pink, which is apparently the norm around here. Weird. But they tasted just the same, so it was fine. And as we lacked a fire, we broiled them in the oven for a few minutes. (Side note: how do you roast your marshmallows? Because I've always been of the light-them-on-fire-and-blow-it-out persuasion, but some of the guys argued that it's essential to turn it slowly and try for that perfectly even brown. Doesn't sound very fun to me.) Thankfully, we weren't lacking graham crackers (which don't exist in England), thanks to my sweet mom. I know she loves me because she sends me things that I can't find here. 

Things like graham crackers. And good peanut butter. 

Anyway, they were super messy, but that's half the fun. And Sandlot was wonderful, as always. That's just one of those films that never gets old. Mostly because of scenes like this:

Love it.
 

"If a smile like that is single, I'm throwing myself off this train."

Girls, we've all been there. You're alone, and somehow end up stuck in close proximity with a creeper of a guy who seems to be going out of his way to make you feel uncomfortable.

Today was my turn.

Now, I don't really like to be the center of attention. I'd rather just blend in and keep to myself. But apparently my crossed arms, averted gaze, and other please-just-leave-me-alone body language was a little misleading.


Two guys got on the train a couple stops down the line and sat down directly across from me, despite the fact the train was pretty much empty. One had a dog. It kind of lunged at me (in a friendly, non-threatening way), which essentially threw me into the spotlight. So they started talking about me (but not to me) -- things like "Oy, leave that lovely lady alone," etc. It got to the point where they were wondering out loud if I was married, and one of them actually said, "If a smile like that is single, I'm throwing myself off this train." 


And that's how he died.


Kidding. 

Anyway I tried to avoid actually speaking to them the whole time, because I figured that my American accent would just them more to talk about. The whole ordeal was super awkward. 

But something I've noticed is that creepy English men are often far more charming than creepy American men (even if it's just in their word choices), because they say things like, "Afternoon, my darling," or "There's something elegant about that one there," or "You are a gorgeous one, m'dear." 

And while it's true that that can also be super creepy, during the daylight it's not panic-inducing, and it's quite funny because it's so stereotypically British.

So even though I left that train thoroughly embarrassed, I also had to laugh.

"Not available in this area."

Eight little words just completely broke my heart: "March Madness is not available in this area."

I love college basketball, so I'm especially fond of March. There's always a game on, and it only gets more exciting as the month rolls on. This year, I've got high hopes for Baylor. The women are still undefeated, and got a 1 seed, while the men are seeded at 3 -- the highest they've ever had. 

So I was thrilled to find out that just $3.99 could get me online access to the tournament. That's like one cup of coffee (I tend to think of prices in terms of coffee...), and since I wouldn't be able to watch it otherwise, I figured it was well worth it. I got all excited. Then, this happened:

Heartbreaking.

I just sat and stared at the screen for a few minutes because I didn't know how to react. 

But that's not the first time it's happened. No, I've seen that message many times since I moved here. For example:

And on and on and on...

I never considered regions when it came to online content. I guess I just assumed that if it was on the Internet, it could be accessed by anyone, anywhere. But I was wrong. 

What a sad, sad realization.

Pandas, monkeys, bananas.

I had an American moment in class the other day.

We were talking about cultural relativity in cognition -- basically, how individuals' cultural backgrounds influence how they think about the world. To demonstrate, our prof showed us the following images, and asked which two of the three are most closely related:

What do you think?

Most of my classmates grouped the monkey and the banana together on the basis that monkeys eat bananas. 

But I disagreed. I raised my hand and very adamantly said something along the lines of, "But the panda and the monkey are both animals. They both move and breathe and they're fluffy!"

Then our prof nodded and moved on to the next slide. I had my head down and didn't notice what had just popped up on the screen till I heard laughter and a classmate say, "Oh my gosh, Kristen!" When I looked up, this is what I read:

"The American participants showed a marked preference for grouping on the basis of common category membership; Panda and monkey fit into the animal category...[as opposed to] grouping on the basis of thematic relationships..." (Ji, Zhang and Nisbett 2002)

Bam. Exactly what I said.

A nice little reminder that despite my new affinity for tea and biscuits, I am, in fact, American.

A British Super Bowl

Watching the Super Bowl in the UK is quite a different experience from watching it in the States.

For starters, kickoff isn't until 11:30 pm, which means it won't be over until around 3 am. Second, most of the people watching with you won't know much (or anything) about the sport -- like what second and five means, or if every team has impossibly large men like Vince Wilfork, or if they're actually allowed to just shove someone out of bounds. (But I didn't mind, since I haven't really gotten to talk football all year.) Third, you have British commentators. And whether or not they know what they're talking about, the fact that they have an accent and keep explaining basic aspects of the game in great detail really doesn't do much for their credibility. Here are my two favorite Neil Reynolds quotes of the night:

"That was a safety. A safety is the American football equivalent of an own goal."

"It's third and goal. They can't get a first down without scoring a touchdown."

Right...

We would have been lost without these guys.

But the biggest difference is the fact that you don't get the commercials. Sure, you get commercials. But they're not Super Bowl commercials. So you've got to go looking for those on YouTube afterward.

All in all, though, it was really fun. By the second half (which is when the game actually started getting exciting), most of my friends had a pretty solid grasp on what was going on, and everyone was pretty into it. There was plenty of yelling at the screen and laughing at the commentators, just like there should be. Plus, we had some great food: sliders, pizza, little smokies, fries, brownies, chips and this great 5-layer dip. (Side note: I had to explain on several occasions what dip was...as in, "Oooh, what's this called?" "Dip." "Dip?" "Yeah." Confused look. "Because you dip your chips in it..." "Ohhhhh.")

Tragedy struck, though, when our feed cut out right after the Giants' last touchdown. The Pats had just started their final drive, and there was 54 seconds left. By the time we finally got it working again, the game was over, and they were showing replays of the missed attempt in the endzone. Booooooo.

We finished up the night watching these:

And everyone finally left our kitchen around 4 in the morning.

So, yeah. I'd say our UK Super Bowl party was a success.

 

Turkey and things.

This will be my first Thanksgiving away from family. Which means this will also be my first Thanksgiving to actually have to plan and pull off. Sure, I've done the mini-Thanksgivings where you get together with friends before the actual holiday to eat and hang out. But the difference between those and what will be happening Thursday is twofold. First, they weren't actual Thanksgiving dinners. Second, my responsibility was limited to volunteering to make a pie or something.

This year, I'm celebrating Thanksgiving with a bunch of [wonderful] people who haven't ever celebrated Thanksgiving before. And as (1) I'm American, and (2) I can cook can follow recipes with some success, I'm in charge of the turkey.

I have no idea how to cook a turkey. It's just sitting there, all menacing, in my refrigerator. I feel really unprepared for this. And the turkey is like the centerpiece of the meal. The meal for my favorite holiday that I really want all my new friends to love too.

Turkey, I will defeat you.

No pressure or anything.

I've also come to appreciate the fact that we get Thanksgiving off in the States, because I have no idea how we're going to manage to make all this food while everyone's got class and work and whatnot. The good news is everyone's bringing a dish, so it's not like one person has to cook everything. Still, figuring out what time I should make the dinner rolls and a pie when our oven is going to be occupied by a turkey for most of the evening is a bit of a challenge.

I might have to borrow an oven.

But with all that said, I'm super excited for this Thanksgiving! I have plenty to be thankful for this year, and I can't wait to celebrate with all the lovely people from my building. And whether you celebrate Thanksgiving or not, I'm hoping this Thursday treats you exceptionally well.

Happy [almost] Thanksgiving!

Treasures from the New World.

Dad arrived today! I met him at Heathrow, and since (1) I had never been there before, (2) he wouldn't have access to a phone (dumb international fees) and (3) I had a presentation to give the same afternoon, I was a bit nervous about the whole thing. But it all went smoothly -- apart from his little almost-falling-down-the-escalator incident, but we won't talk about that -- and now he's here! Plus, he brought me gifts from a distant land! Peter Pan peanut butter, Nestle bittersweet chocolate chips, canned pumpkin, and other treasures from the New World! Pretty much the things that don't exist here or are super expensive since they're "fancy American stuff." 

Yes, that's the technical term.

Opening that suitcase was like Christmas Morning.

Jackpot.

Look what I stumbled upon this afternoon:

Isn't it beautiful?

My favorite thing about this section (besides the abundance of American flags, naturally) was the fact that Aunt Jemima products take up three of the shelves. It's as if pancakes are the staple food of our fair country...and none of us are aware they can be made from scratch.

There was also Jif peanut butter, Duncan Hines cake mix, Nestle bittersweet chocolate chips, Lucky Charms, and Hershey's cocoa -- none of which I've seen here yet.

AND they had PUMPKIN. I practically skipped out of the store.

Oh happy day.

Wednesday randoms.

It's that time again. Here goes:

I finally got my bank account set up. Now I have a debit card with a chip in it, which means no more weird looks from the checkout people for me!

I'm going to Ireland! My dad's coming to visit in a couple of weeks, and we're flying to Dublin for the weekend. Oh, and our return tickets were only £18.99 each. So excited.

My flat's radiators quit working a couple of days ago...you know, right as the weather stopped being all sunny and gloriously warm. We shivered our way through the past few days, but it's back on now, hallelujah. And we got a cake as a result, so there's the silver lining.

Got a problem? Call on the Council of Men. The guys in our building have banded together to solve all our problems. That's where our cake came from. When the Council of Men failed to get our heat working (not that they really had any means to do so...), Gerry made it up to us by providing us with a chocolate cake. Isn't that the best?

Every time I walk by this restaurant, I can't help but laugh. Perhaps someday I'll actually go in.

I was unaware Dallas was known for chicken.

I've established myself as the one who bakes. We had an informal hall meeting in our kitchen the other night, and more than one person asked if there would be refreshments. I, of course, happily obliged. I love having people to bake for.

There are New York Yankees hats everywhere here, but no one watches baseball. It's so weird.

It's strange being the "American representative" in all my classes. Basically any time anything American is mentioned, the lecturer will, at the very least, look my way and often asks me to comment. It's like I'm speaking on behalf of the whole country. I feel woefully unprepared for this.


That's all I've got. Happy Wednesday!

Productivity, vegetables and lads.

Remember how I told you about my [wonderful] presentation? Well today my group met up to work on our reflection report. It's not due till a week from Monday, but we pretty much finished everything this afternoon. Best group ever.

Afterward, we stopped at the market down in the town center. I got three bags of vegetables -- a huge bowl of mushrooms, 8 beautiful tomatoes on the vine, 5 cloves of garlic and 3 avocados -- for just £3.50. Unreal.

We made it down to the bus stop right as my bus was leaving. It was a nice afternoon, so rather than just stand there waiting for the next one, I decided to walk a little ways to another stop. Halfway to the stop I wanted, a van full of "fitties" (see How To Speak English for the definition...thanks Hannah and Sheila!) pulled up. One leaned out the window and waved. Then he blew me a kiss. I couldn't help but laugh (especially since I still get confused about which side the driver is on, and homeboy looked like he was driving with no hands). I kept walking, but traffic was thick, which meant the van stayed at my pace. They started chatting me up:

"Hello, darling!"
"You're lovely. Really."
"What's your name?"
"Where are you from, love?"

They were really persistent, so I answered that last question. "The States." That got a reaction. I never know what to do in situations like that, and normally I'd have been way awkward (always am). But their accents were just so lovely, and they had me laughing the whole time. Nonetheless, I passed on the ride they offered me and caught the bus home instead.

What I'm trying to say is, if I measured my days by productivity, vegetables and lads, today would have been one of the best ever.

And now the Baylor game is on, so I'd better be going.

Sic'em.

"Autumn"

I knew I'd stick out, but I thought it'd at least take a little longer.

Months before my move to the UK, I e-mailed a prospective landlord about a flat. (A flat! They don't have those where I'm from!) I told her I would be starting on my MA in the fall and was wondering if I could get more information about the property.  She responded with the information, but first pointed something out. Something that hadn't ever occurred to me.

"I'm not sure where you're from, but I'm guessing North America," she wrote, "because you said 'fall' instead of 'autumn.'"

Bam. There it was. I couldn't even fly under the radar using e-mail.

And then I realized that I'm a foreigner. Or I will be. Weird.

Which brings us to this blog. This will be my attempt at including you in my adventure and keeping track of just how obvious my American-ness is. Maybe it'll make me some friends (I could be the token American), and I'm excited to actually be the one with an accent.

This could be fun.