I've been living in the UK long enough that it feels like home. Perhaps more so than America. Hell, I've even been accused of having lost a bit of my accent (what accent? Washingtonians don't have an accent, we're perfect just as we are!). But there are just a few things that keep reminding me that this place is foreign.
1. My supervisor's pronunciation of "capillary." It's CAPillary!
2. Using "u" in honour and colour and an "o" in foetus. I do this now too, but with a wee(!) bit of hesitation.
3. British musical note values: quarter notes are crotchets, eighths are quavers, half notes are minims. I can do this fluently now, but I still think about it.
4. Thinking that I can go to London at the drop of a hat. I told my Dad that I wanted to get away from work for the day and just do something different that doesn't involve being cold and wet and in pain (my normal choice of weekend activities), so I might head down and check out some museums and snoop for story ideas to pitch to journals. And he pointed out how fabulous it is, from the point of view of our little town in eastern WA, to be able to do that so casually. He's very right.
And it's still a little exciting to be able to drive to France in a day.
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