Want Me To Knock You Up In The Morning?

Want me to knock you up in the morning?

Did that catch you off guard? I can see how it might. First, it might seem a little forward of me to suggest such a thing when we have only just met. And second, it doesn’t make so much sense for a girl to make that offer when she would be the one getting the knocking. Nevertheless this is just one of the gazillion weird phrases the British use, in this case meaning ‘to wake up’ and having nothing whatsoever to do creating a baby. With that being said, if I catch you having fallen asleep while reading my blog I guess I’ll just have to knock you up. ; )

Anglophile. A person who is fond of English culture.

Anglophile. A lover of things English.

Anglophile. An admirer of England or English people.

Yep, that pretty much sums me up. I have been an Anglophile for as long as I can remember. I could name the six wives of Henry VIII before I could multiply big numbers (actually I still cant do that) and was reading Alison Weir histories instead of the Babysitters Club books (though I suppose I did that too). While I was born and bred in the US I was always absurdly proud of the quarter of me that is British and was utterly delighted by the discovery that I prefer my tea with milk. I would dream in an accent and couldn’t wait to visit to land of the Queen. Even before my first trip across the pond when I was 16 I knew my future lay in England.

When I moved to London in January I knew that my half a year there would not be long enough. I knew that my reverse homesickness would be twice as bad. Not that I didn’t miss my family, my friends, even my car but Los Angeles just doesn’t compare for me. I mean nothing against LA, which has always been and will always be my home. It’s where I was born and raised, and I do love it, just not as much as I currently love London. I made a personal list of the pros and cons of living in London (which will probably be featured in a future post) upon my return and it is safe to say that the pros severely outweighed the cons. In fact, the only cons were that I would miss my family and would have to gorge on Mexican food on every trip back to LA.

I think this blog will in many ways be cathartic for me. A way to talk about London without forcing my friends to listen. A way to remember the things I loved and miss. And maybe a way to share my insights with the world at large.

I am fascinated with Brit speak and how in the US we do not speak English, we speak American. You can expect a post or two (or twelve) about slang and the colloquialisms that make the British so… well, British. The Effingpot has an American guide to speaking British that I will likely reference and is good fun when you feel like procrastinating on real work. I plan to blog about pubs and drinking, markets and eating, and the amazingness that is an English breakfast with haggis. There will likely be a post about the difference between the theatre and theater (and the cinema too). And also probably about how in America people are more comfortable watching violence than sex but in the UK it’s the opposite. And then probably another one about Brit speak, just for good measure. But hey, maybe Ill make that one about cursing and all the awesome rude words you too can incorporate into your vocabulary.

So welcome to my blog good people and thanks for taking a gander at my ramblings. Cheers!