The other night, I was standing in my local grocery store looking for a good beer to pair with dinner. Surrounded by Fuller's and Old Speckled Hen, nothing caught my fancy, nothing seemed to do. The English are so proud of their "real ales", but was that what I wanted?
Then, I spotted a four-pack of Guinness in the corner, straight from Ireland. I bought it without a moment's hesitation.
A few days later, I was lost for inspiration and turned my internet radio on to the first channel I came across. That night, I happily finished an entire paper nodding my head to nothing but rap music. Even though I wasn't a big fan before, for some reason out here I can't get enough Outkast and Eminem.
This morning, I realized I've spent the past week swapping between two other internet radio stations: what I call "yeehaw" country, and pop music from . . . France.
My goodness. It seems as though six months in England has turned me into the walking cultural opposite of English-ness. I suspect my subconscious is trying to tell me something.
Then, I spotted a four-pack of Guinness in the corner, straight from Ireland. I bought it without a moment's hesitation.
A few days later, I was lost for inspiration and turned my internet radio on to the first channel I came across. That night, I happily finished an entire paper nodding my head to nothing but rap music. Even though I wasn't a big fan before, for some reason out here I can't get enough Outkast and Eminem.
This morning, I realized I've spent the past week swapping between two other internet radio stations: what I call "yeehaw" country, and pop music from . . . France.
My goodness. It seems as though six months in England has turned me into the walking cultural opposite of English-ness. I suspect my subconscious is trying to tell me something.
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| The Inspiring City in Spires |
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