Category: Not America

There is life and it exists, outside America. Duh.

Everybody’s got a darkness…

The fog and the mugginess this morning reminds me of London. Previously posted on Jan 16, 2006 Everybody’s got a darkness They’re not going to show it to you. It’s Monday and grey again in London. I dreamed of you last night. I sat in a cafe over cappuccinos with some friend. He told me…

Lullaby for a Head Injury

Mr. Blue, you did it right But soon comes Mr. Night, creepin’ over Now his hand is on your shoulder Never mind, I’ll remember you this… I’ll remember you this way… — Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra After the sound of the skull cracking, and after the soft sound of my flesh finding…

When Nude Isn’t Naked

A Guest Post by Contributor Lisa Hill, American expatriate living in Switzerland. I walk through the room, topless, anticipating… He waits for me there, ready. I climb onto the table and my doctor begins the examination. Nudity. Nakedness. Not always the seductive, titillating state we Americans have infused it with. Sometimes, it’s just being without…

You Have to Be Taught

A  Guest Post by Contributor Ellen Hardy, written 9 years ago this week. “Careful the things you say, children will listen…” – Stephen Sondheim from Into the Woods At this terrible and troubling time in our nation’s history, a great fear of mine is that through our anger we will become like our enemy. Our…

Venice and Other Temporary Places

The copy of John Berendt’s “The City of Fallen Angels” that Heather gave me is water-logged. It looks as though it made it here by water taxi. The book, which I am halfway through, wanders through this old city, meeting real Venetians and asking them: “How do you feel about Venice?” It’s a series of…

Singapore Sweethearts

Here’s a brief version of the story of how I met Tim and Peter… I’m thinking about them today. I was working at the Warrington Hotel in London, which isn’t a hotel, but an epic pub in Maida Vale. Now owned by Gordon Ramsay. It was autumn of 2004, and we’d only just arrived in…

English Things I Miss, Part 2: On Biscuits, and Such

I had pancakes for breakfast yesterday and I took it totally for granted. God, how quickly we forget the hard times. Back in the day, (when I was living on nothing but beer and chicken-flavored potato chips), finding any kind of American baked good was like a treasure hunt. I was reminded of this when…

Stephen Fry and the Perfect Rant

Thanks to my husband, I got the chance to listen to the ultimate rant on America… from my favorite Brit, Stephen Fry. He has a fantastic podcast called Stephen Fry’s Podgrams. Some are scripted, others are extemporaneous. That  is major. Fry came to America for his BBC series Stephen Fry’s America, now available on DVD.…

The Bacon Fat on the Counter

I did the dishes. But I left the Presto Power Crisp full of bacon fat on the counter. It’s not that I’m not interested in cleaning it– I scrubbed WAY more disgusting pans at The Passage in the London, where burning oatmeal in the bottom of a pot the size of the Queen’s bathtub seemed…

Inside the Bell Tower

I took this photo in May of 2007, which of course seems like about two weeks ago. We’ve been in this small state for almost two and half years and I see how time gets compressed–I’ve erased the afternoons and the mornings and the evenings and all that remains is the back and forth motion…

Spring, in Wings

By this time of year in London, I’d be stir crazy and ready for the end of winter’s short grey days. One big difference between Connecticut and London, in winter most especially, is LATITUDE. Stratford is on the 41 degree parallel and London is at 51 degrees. In terms of quantity of sunlight, that makes…

American Things I Love: Stacy and Bryan

Or, The Continuing Saga of the Toast Rack In a new series I am offering, English Things I Miss, I recently I opined about the great mystery of the toast rack. A mainstay of the British Bed and Breakfast, I found this piece of kitchenware a great and strange object. It is one of the…

The Gauntlet

I love flying out of small airports… There is nothing better than the 15 foot walk from entryway to checkin. Don’t get me wrong — I still reminisce about the Heathrow days, when long security lines snaked around the coffee shops and purse boutiques, and that was even before you the entered security rope maze.…

My Amazing Husband: The Hole in the House

Happy Thanksgiving. Colin and I are away for a few days (guard cat Betty is home and in charge!), but I wanted to make sure I said my Thanks here for Colin, who is, by all accounts, amazing. I won’t bore you with a laundry list, I’ll just provide one or two examples, in images.…

English Things I Miss, Part 1: The Toast Rack

Here’s a new, non-regular segment for you that perhaps will help me cope with the grieving process of no longer living in London: English Things I Miss, subtitle, Though Not Necessarily So Much That I Would Move Back to the God-Forsaken Land of Clouds and Complaining. First English Thing I Miss: The Toast Rack It…