September 21st

I'm started to get settled in, here in England. It hasn't rained once since I got here and September is supposed to be one of the UK's rainiest months. Tubular. The weather has been comfortably cool and, from what I hear, the temperature rarely drops below 32 degrees Fahrenheit or 0 degrees Celsius. It's one or the other. I'm not sure which.

The fun thing about being over is noticing the little nuances that make British society so different from the American society that I am accustomed to in the States.

1. The queue. It's wonder the British found it necessary to colonize most of the world. When the British rolled up into India/South Africa/Australia/North America/Yo' Mamma's House and found that the denizens placed nowhere near as much value in forming a straight orderly line as the Brits do, the fate of those peoples was sealed. The queue is a serious thing over here. You don't deviate, you don't form a mob and you CERTAINLY don't jump ahead in queue! Queue jumping alone will result in a stern scolding from several police constables and a two-week stint in the tower of London.

2. Alcoholism. The Brits, although trailing behind the Russians, are world class alcoholics. Well, in American senses in any case. Over here it's just a healthy predilection towards good ol' fashioned oat soda. In the states anyone who spent over thirty minutes in a bar every day either works there, is in a Ted Danson TV sitcom, or is an alcoholic. (The last two items are not mutually exclusive.) In fact, upon undergoing a health screening for University healthcare, I had to identify how much of an alcoholic I really was. They just wanted to find out whether or not I belonged on the island, I'm sure. In the defense of the British though they only have about 13 alcohol related deaths for every 100,000 whereas in the States we have about 3,000 for every 100,000. I guess the English are less prone to do stupid things after they drink. Like drive cars...

3. Walking. I often find myself walking much slower than most of the people around me. That's really no surprise. But here in England I feel like a rickshaw racing in the Indianapolis 500. People ZOOM past me! Partially I attribute this to my standard walking speed, which is "mosey." I don't think the British even use that one. It's like the equivalent to having a "churn" speed on your blender. It's there, but who uses it? Well I do, for one. If anyone wants to send me a t-shirt with the sign, "Give slow motorists a break." printed on the back, I would gladly wear it over here. At the same time, it seems like many of the English are in an unnecessary rush. I guess growing up in the country slows down one's turn of the leg.

I still haven't bought a plunger, but that's because I can't find one. Perhaps they don't plunge things here in England. If that's true though, they probably shouldn't have issued me a visa.

Other than being a little sick from (what I guess is) the Meningitis shot I received last week, things are pretty well on this side of the pond.

Take care of yourselves.

Don't forget to spay or neuter your pets.

- Jonathan "Probably never gonna be an fast-walkin', alcoholic, liner-upper" Trenary