Ode to London

Today marks my 4 month anniversary in London, and if you've been reading my emails (and following my blog before that), you might think I hate it here.

In fact, the exact opposite is true.

Oh sure, not seeing the sun for weeks at a time has been a little depressing, not finding a job has been a little frustrating, living in a hotel has been a little maddening, and learning how to drive all over again has been a little humbling. But all of the things I complained about in LA -- the sprawl, the lack of public transportation, the generic suburbs, the lack of culture and history -- are all notably absent here. In addition, I thought LA was multi-cultural, but there are street corners in London where I can find people from 50 different countries. I think the city is amazing.

My California friends have probably heard this: California, by itself, is the seventh largest economy in the world. That's quite remarkable, until you consider that the UK is less than two-thirds the size of California, and is the fifth largest economy in the world. London has over 12,000 people per square mile, 60% more than Los Angeles. (And if you thought LA was a sprawl, London comprises 600 square miles; LA county is just 500 square miles.) Hard to believe that so many people, from so many backgrounds, can not only come together and get along, but thrive.

Ironically, with all those people, London also feels safer. I read that you're five times more likely to be robbed, and 11 times more likely to be murdered, in New York City than in London. And while New York has just Central Park at 843 acres, London has the equivalent of eight Central Parks -- Richmond Park (2,360 acres), Bushy Park (1,100 acres), Hampstead Heath (791 acres), Hampton Court Park (700 acres), Hyde Park/Kensington Gardens (625 acres), Regents Park (487 acres), Kew Gardens (300 acres), Victoria Park (218 acres), Battersea Park (200 acres), Alexandra Park (196 acres), Greenwich Park (183 acres), and Green Park/St James's Park (111 acres), not including all of the small parks and private squares. I think it's simply fantastic.

That's not to say it's Shangri-la, of course. The taxes are ridiculously high, but nobody complains because it used to be much worse. The roads are a rat's maze, the average speed during rush hour is less than 5mph, the subway system is on the brink of collapse, and although violent crime is rare, the overall crime rate is still high. I hate the smoking and littering, although I think the city is kept remarkably clean in spite of it. I also hate feeling like I'm taking my life in my hands every time I cross the street. And, of course, the cost of living here is astronomical. Yet thousands -- if not millions -- of immigrants survive just fine, so I think the real problem is that I'm not used to the style of living here. (Note I said "style," not standard.)

The population density also means everything is small: small streets, small cars, small houses, and astoundingly small bathrooms. I've looked at apartments that are 160 square feet, including the kitchen, with a bathroom wedged into a closet! (And they cost more than my 1,200 square foot apartment in Los Angeles, except these have no view!) When designing the bathrooms for the B&B, I thought they were ridiculously tiny; now I think they are palatial. (I also changed the kitchen layout because it only had 16 square feet of surface space; the new layout has 30 square feet. Most kitchens here have 4 square feet, and I'm not exaggerating.)

My timing couldn't have been worse, with a dreadful currency rate and looming economic depression. I figured that with my experience at an investment company, I could easily find work in London, the financial capital of Europe--little did I realize what the "credit crunch" portended. Still, despite all of it, I love it here. Of course, if I hadn't met Jessica, would I feel the same affinity for the city? I think so. I was here almost a month before I met her, and I was already quite smitten with the city. (Plus there was the week I spent here in 2003, which obviously made me comfortable enough to move here.) That Jess was here is just remarkably good fortune.

The big question is, did I find what I was looking for? I was looking for a change, a challenge, a way to force myself out of my rut and confront my assumptions and understand how other people live. I was trying to find the "real" me, free of externalities and custom and convention. In other words, all of the things I was looking for in Pennsylvania, but did not get a chance to do. Still, I've had a remarkable journey over the past four years: restoring the B&B, moving to Pennsylvania, living in the country, changing careers, getting divorced, being a million dollars in debt, returning to LA and experiencing the city of my birth in a completely different light, spending time with my family, moving to London, and now falling in love again. Of course I would have liked to have done more of all of it (except, perhaps, the divorce, although that was obviously a necessary step in my eventual growth). I've learned a lot about myself: That I'm resilient, I can handle change, I can love unconditionally, that I have some basic needs but I can be happy just about anywhere. These are all things I wanted to believe about myself but never really had an opportunity to test, and I'm grateful for all of my experiences, and everyone who has contributed to them. And yes, I think I found what I was looking for.

One odd thing I've noticed is my new circle of friends consist of a South African, an Italian, a Kenyan, a Slovakian, and two Americans. Not a Brit in sight. This is partly my fault: I assumed I'd meet enough Brits through work, so I have not gone out of my way to introduce myself. (I'd also planned a heavy dating regime, which ended before it even began after my second date with Jess.) I have gone to a couple of "vegetarian meetups" where I happened to sit with an Australian, an Italian, a Romanian, and another American, but no Brits. I've read that over 25% of London's population are immigrants, so I shouldn't be surprised.

So that's all; no funny anecdotes, no self-deprecating humour, no crazy rants about unyielding bureaucrats, just a little bit of information about me, because that's another thing I've learned about myself over the past four years: That I can share my thoughts and feelings without worrying about how others see me. I've learned I have good friends, people I can trust, people who care about me and support me and want the best for me. Of course, when I run out of money in a couple of months, we'll see who is still talking to me.

P.S. Okay, one funny anecdote: This morning I made a rather embarrassing discovery at the laundromat. Washing machines here have two detergent slots, for wash and pre-wash, and it turns out I've been using the wrong one. For four months. You'd think at some point I would notice--or someone would point out--that I hadn't actually cleaned my clothes in four months, but no. Worse, I didn't discover this until after I had done the wash, and I didn't have enough change to do it again, so it will be another two weeks before my clothes see soap. They'll probably disintegrate.

Oh, and some Brit-speak I've learned, in no particular order:

• pram or pushchair = stroller
• manky = dirty
• nappy = diaper
• dummy = pacifier
• brilliant = well done (sometimes used sarcastically)
• anti-clockwise = counter-clockwise
• braces = suspenders
• suspenders = garter belt
• plebian = ignorant
• chav = trailer trash (not exact, but closest equivalent I can find)
• bin = toss (throw something away)
• blue badge = handicapped placard
• Continent = rest of Europe
• lorry = truck
• boot = trunk
• flat = apartment
• lift = elevator
• 1st floor = 2nd floor
• pavement = sidewalk
• tap = faucet
• toilet = bathroom
• amber = yellow
• holiday = vacation
• return = round-trip
• half-eight = eight thirty (as in time)
• snog = make out (as in kissing)
• whinge = complain
• squidgy = soft
• stroppy = mad
• soppy = sad
• floppy = lazy
• mate = friend (of either sex)
• two finger salute = the bird (same as "victory" sign, but with palm facing the other way)
• naff = uncool
• daft = stupid
• kip = nap
• football = soccer
• gutted = upset
• the bill = the check
• chuffed = pleased (archaic, used primarily by London's mayor)
• cheers = thanks
• Bob's your uncle = that's it (as in, that's all there is to it)
• on your bike = get lost
• zed = 26th letter of the alphabet
• pinch = steal
• put paid to = to stop something
• posh = snobbish (originally, acronym for Port Out, Starboard Home, the most
• expensive cabins on the route to India)
• rotor = schedule
• quid = a pound (as in money. They also use "dollar" as a pound, which is quite confusing)
• tin = can (as in a can of beans)
• pot = jar (as in a pot of yoghurt)
• cock up = mistake
• bum = butt
• bollocks = balls
• camp = gay
• pissed = drunk (other terms include sloshed, legless, motherless, plastered, rat arsed, shitfaced, etc.)
• take the piss = make fun of someone
• mind the gap = no American translation, because in America they would never acknowledge the gap, because then they'd be legally responsible for the gap.

I'm still working on my cockney rhyming slang. The mechanics are simple enough: you take a common, two-word phrase where the second word rhymes with the word you want to use, and use the first word instead. So instead of "have a look" you might say "have a butcher's" because "butcher's hook" rhymes with "look." The problem is, you can't just make up your own rhymes; you have to know the specific, original phrases...and nobody will tell you what they are. In some cases, they have no idea themselves: "Taking the mickey" (or "taking the mick") is cockney slang for "taking the piss," and while the assumption is "Mickey Bliss" is the original phrase, nobody knows where "Mickey Bliss" came from!