Category Archives: England
The professor in charge of my primary tutorial would, in what conservative pundits would later call “a total snowflake move,” offer to move back the due date on that week’s essay.
If you had told thirteen-year-old Helen that in ten years she would be living in England, let alone London, I think she might have fainted in disbelief.
Never before in my life have I been physically stopped in my tracks by the scent of flowers. Never until I moved to Seattle.
And I realized these are the first things: not medals or adventures, but the cinch of laces around a foot and reliable slide of mud and bitter perfume of sweat rising like smoke off shoulders.
I know which cashier is the fastest, which one is the nicest, and which one packs my reusable grocery bags like her own personal Tetris championship.
We’re nodding our heads, ready to keep walking, and then he opens his mouth to sing.
My colleagues included an Australian, an Austrian, an Irishman, and a Scot. Each time we walked into a pub, the room buzzed like the beginning of the world’s most-told joke.
I was in an honors history class during my junior year of high school. (Did he say…honors??? You bet I did, impressed reader, and I escaped with a C+.)
I was always driven by the idea of the adventure and seeing new and unique places—after all, Carmen Sandiego wasn’t going to find herself—and sought out all opportunities I could find.