Tag Archives: american living

Going steady.

Before the move out here, me and Uncle Sam flirted for a while. While I negotiated terms with work, we played footsy under the table. And then the deal was done – I upped and moved. We’ve been heavy petting ever since.

Continue reading Going steady.

Happy Caliversary.

July 1 was exactly one year to the day that we arrived in the US.

It’s hard to believe how fast the time’s gone, and how little we’ve achieved. I’m still waiting for an investor to pump millions of dollars into my blog, and my 5 year old doesn’t even own a gun yet.

Mind you, with the UK going bat shit mental since we’ve been away, we feel pretty lucky to be here.

And since we moved, we’ve been building up a collection of random things we’ve learned about America and the Bay Area. Here they are.

Continue reading Happy Caliversary.

Dancing with salesmen.

I still remember my first slow dance.

It was at the Excel summer camp disco, circa 1992. During the day the boys had all decided who we’d go for, so when the evening rolled around, it was just a matter of plucking up the courage. She was a 7, and I was a 6 at best. I was punching above my weight and I knew it – but a bunch of her friends had already been asked to dance, and I figured she didn’t want to be the last one standing. So, I took a deep breath and asked her to dance. She half-shrugged/half-nodded, and then we quickly assumed the position: my hands on her hips, hers on my shoulders. As we moved woodenly from side to side, I spent the duration of the song trying not to stare at her chest. Which was tricky, given how bloody tall she was.

Continue reading Dancing with salesmen.