Tag Archives: living in america

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.

15 American things we’ve done.

We’ve reached the 8-month mark. Alex hasn’t left me for a Silicon Valley investor, and my kids are still speaking to me. At least I think they are. It’s hard to tell these days in that weird accent of theirs.

Anyway, here’s a rundown of some of the American stuff we’ve done.

Continue reading 15 American things we’ve done.

What it boils down to.

This is our kettle. God it’s awful.

Just look at it.

With its stuck-up spout and pretentious double handle that’s too hot to lift without an oven glove.

It doesn’t even have a measure on the side to let you know how many cups it will make. It just arrogantly expects you to know by sight.

And it’s annoying. So annoying. When it’s done, it’s just dying to let you know with a high-pitched whistle. “Oooooh look at me everybody, I’ve boiled the water AND I’m shrieking”. Frickin’ show-off.

Continue reading What it boils down to.

16 things we’ve learned about life in the US.

Today is exactly 6 months since we left the UK.

In that time, Alex has taken up running, Daisy has tantrummed in some of the biggest public spaces in Northern California, and Ava has turned into a walking, talking all-American kid. Me? The main change I’ve noticed is that I wear white socks more than I used to, without worrying about my street cred.

Here’s the 16 things we’ve learned since we got here…  Continue reading 16 things we’ve learned about life in the US.

The C-word.

We need to talk about Christmas.

Mainly because I’m the only one in America with the baubles to do so.

Don’t get me wrong, Christmas over here is like everything else in America – absolutely massive.

In the UK, the biggest radio stations sprinkle classic Christmas tunes into their playlist from mid-December. But out here, brand new stations are created out of thin air, exclusively to belt out Christmas songs, 24/7. I tell you, all I want for Christmas is to not hear Mariah Carey’s god awful song every 15 minutes.

Continue reading The C-word.

A view of November.

See the pictures here

Thanks.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving.

A day when Americans get together to watch football, eat their body weight in turkey, and open a can of thanks on one another. They thank their hosts for a lovely meal, to which their hosts say thank you. Then the dinner guests thank them for their gracious hospitality. So the hosts find something to thank them for again. And so it continues until they either run out of things to be thankful for, or they run out of cranberry sauce. At which point shit gets real.

Continue reading Thanks.

Trick or treat is not a rhetorical question.

Hallowe’en is a big deal out here. Like, Christmas big.

In the weeks leading up to the 31st, you can’t miss it. House decorations, advertising, grocery stores, even church signs… it’s bloody everywhere. They don’t do anything half-arsed in the US, but I do – and having left it to the last-minute to get a costume for a Hallowe’en party, I went into a nearby pop-up shop.

Continue reading Trick or treat is not a rhetorical question.

Carlifornia.

Every morning, I step out of the house into brilliant sunshine and a clear blue sky.

In the background I hear the excited morning chatter of birds. My friendly neighbour greets me with a wave from behind his white picket fence, and as I embark on my 11-mile drive to work, I smile broadly as my girls line up at the door and bid me a fond farewell, like the cereal box family we are.

Well, that’s the vision.

In reality, I make a run for it just as Ava has a meltdown over the consistency of her porridge. I close the door as Daisy freaks out about a torn page in her Mr Men book, and make for the safety of my car. I do this without so much as a glance back at the house, just in case I catch Alex glaring at my escape with envious hatred. And then, when I’m safely inside my car, I begin another beautiful day in California.

Continue reading Carlifornia.