A Lady in London

The weather in London has been surprisingly mild this month. There’s been some rain and there’s been some wind, but on the whole it hasn’t been too cold. Until last week, that is. Last week it got cold. So it was a good thing that my boyfriend and I had planned a post-Thanksgiving getaway to Tunisia, where the weather forecast called for sunny skies and 75 degree bliss.

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This week it was time to celebrate my third expat Thanksgiving. Last Thanksgiving I cheated my way out of cooking dinner by ordering food from my favorite local grocer, Rosslyn Deli. In lieu of attempting to shove a huge turkey into my tiny oven and trying to cook stuffing while lacking any culinary skills whatsoever, I left the dinner to the experts and gave thanks for being able to shirk out of my cooking responsibilities.

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One of my least favorite parts of living in London is the UK Home Office’s penchant for changing the rules of my visa. First they changed the name from HSMP (Highly Skilled Migrant Programme) to the yawn-inducing Tier 1. Then they decided that instead of having just an undergraduate degree, you have to have a Masters. Then, after the uproar that ensued following that change, they decided that if you already had the visa, you didn’t have to have a Masters but if you were a first time applicant, you did. It gets even more confusing, but I’ll spare you the details. Suffice it to say that I don’t wish the UK Tier 1 visa application process on anyone.

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With my year as the Face of Ascot behind me, I wasn’t sure when I would next make it back to the races. But at Royal Ascot in June my boyfriend and I were introduced to the executive director of Gloucestershire’s Cheltenham racecourse. He kindly invited us to spend a day at the races in Cheltenham, an offer which we took him up on over the weekend.

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After two years of living in the UK, I thought I was done with “firsts.” But on Monday I realized that there are still a few experiences I’ve been putting off. One of those is dentistry.

Okay, okay, so I know it’s a stereotype to refuse to see a dentist in the UK just because the country doesn’t have the best reputation for dental hygiene and orthodontics. Maybe I’ve seen Austin Powers a few too many times. Maybe my former landlady—the evil one with the bad teeth—scarred me for life. Or maybe I’m just averse to dental change.

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Today I took the fastest business trip of my life. I wanted to meet with a client up in Leeds, but the best prices on train tickets were only available if I arrived in Leeds just before noon and departed just after 2pm. After a bit of indecision, I bought the tickets, agreed to hold the meeting with the client at the train station, and hoped for a delay-free train trip.

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