Visions of a daughter of Albion

Sorry to completely alter your title Will and twist it for my own self-serving, in-need-of-a-good-title purposes. Eh, you were an absolute delusional nutcase, what would you care?

Three years ago today I boarded a plane with my new(ish) husband, carrying just two suitcases filled to the brim with most of my worldly possessions, to move 4000 miles away from everything I had ever known. We had no place of our own to go to, and no jobs when we got there. It was two days before my 24th birthday, and as confident as I was that England would be the ideal place for me, I was also apprehensive at the thought of commencing a completely new life within a foreign culture, with my only support being my husband.

A few weeks prior to leaving the US, I grabbed every opportunity to tell perfect strangers about my impending move. I worked at a large chain bookstores that begins with the letter "Borders", and whenever a customer bought a book that in anyway pertained to the UK or its culture, or a CD by a British artist was purchased, I managed to sneak in comment such as, "Oh, England. I'm moving there in three weeks. Yup. Me....moving there." I was generally met with indifference, but some people were envious and conveyed this, which, let's face it, is what I was really looking for. Yes folks, you've heard me speak of the many Child Bores in my life, I was the Expat Bore.

I settled in quite quickly here, aside from the Viral Debacle of '02 mentioned in my previous post. We both got jobs, with The Dude's job utilising his degrees and experience much more than mine does, but that's a story for another day. We bought a flat, took on a mortgage and purchased the most beautiful and gay bird in the world, Desmond. We of course started IF treatment, something that by this point in the States would have cost us thousands of dollars versus the £200 or so we have paid thus far in the UK. Hopefully the next few years will bring on further happy changes along the baby front, less on the IF treatment side of things.

Moving to the UK was the best decision of my life, aside from deciding to marry The Dude "for real" the second time. When I begin to doubt myself and question whether I am capable of the mettle-testing things in life, I only need to think back to three years ago when this timid, introverted (albeit cynical and sarcastic) 23 year old decided to do something with her life, which at the time, was going absolutely nowhere. The changes in me have been significant, and I don't regret a moment of it.

Now, for your viewing pleasure, here are a few photos from my life here.


This beach is about a 30 second walk from my flat.
Unfortunately the water is freezing year round and
the beach is pebble rather than sand, but it's nice to
look at, right?

The pier that is also just 30 seconds from the
flat. Those waves are about as big as they get.

My beautiful boy, posing for the camera and working
it like he knows he can. He opted out of wearing his
hot pink heels and feather boa in this one.

So there it is. Happy three year anniversary to Britain and me. I think we make a lovely couple. If it weren't for this, I'd be BarrenKeystone instead, and it wouldn't quite be the same.