Oxymorons

I’m constantly surprised at people’s disbelief when they find out I’m American, accent notwithstanding. A year ago I would’ve jumped up and down with glee at that fact. Now I just find it mildly interesting.

The thing is, I’ve drawn an important conclusion after living in London for nearly a year. I used to think I had more in common with the average Brit than the average American– reserved, slightly passive-aggressive, with a sense of humour that needs to be washed down with a pint (dry, in case that wasn’t clear). Actually, those things are still largely true of me. But the conclusion I’ve made is this: being around people so similar to myself kind of, well, sucks.

There’s something to be said for friendliness, and I noticed the difference in cultures even when I travelled up to Edinburgh. As annoyed as I can get by people, I’m finding that it’s far more pleasant to be around a gregarious crowd. I met more interesting people during a weekend in Scotland than the entire month of May in London. I would’ve chalked it up to the novelty factor, but even seasoned Londoners will largely agree (while still looking down their noses).

That said, get a Brit drunk and he/she will likely be sloppier than an Irish or Scottish counterpart. And the impropriety of the English workplace – be it dress code, language, or flirtations – continues to confound me. Interesting.