Tea and Crumpets

I had an alarming realization this weekend. I am supposed to be British. No, really. I have a powerful and unexplainable love of all things English. Just to name a few:
The original Bedazzled
What Not to Wear on the BBC (I adore Trinny and Suzanne)
Ab Fab
Bridget Jones
Boots the Chemist
The Beatles
British women’s hair (collectively, it is a much better-tressed nation….not sure why)
Hugh Grant

I also purchased my third tiny book written by a Brit about the future of our adulterated language (they’re always tiny!) and those who have no problem f’ing it up (usually Americans). The first one I purchased was Eats, Shoots and Leaves – The Zero Tolerance Guide to Punctuation. It’s like this woman is living in my HEAD. Honestly, I take it as a personal affront when I see a sign that says Book’s Sold Here. I then purchased Between You and I: A Little Book about Bad Grammar which I adored. It lists common phrases that everyone (except me and the British, apparently) screw up. For example, “between you and I” and “for all intensive purposes” instead of “for all intents AND purposes”. This weekend’s jewel of a publication is called The Dictionary of Bullshit by Nick Webb. I think it’s my personal favorite because he is so anti corporate jargon. Storytime: I LOATHE corporate jargon. I loathe any institution that breeds a society of people saying things they don’t mean. I also loathe jargon because it is a vehicle through which we can eliminate our language of any emotion. Nick defines various “corporate” phrases in his own terms. The best one: core values–this is flattering because it presupposes the corporation has values.

I love it.

But then, I had this whole crisis, because here’s the thing. The British are my people, it seems. And I should live amongst them, considering I am deeply in agreement with so many of their language, grammar and usage issues. But I love NYC and don’t think I would be able to stand living so far away from everyone I know…London is also far more expensive than NYC and I plum can’t afford to live there unless I take up with a sugar daddy. So it appears I am staying here, but I’m seriously contemplating starting some kind of British expat club here since I am clearly an Anglo-Saxon. In the meantime, I am going to end my very American love affair with the letter “z” (zed).

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