Sorry, guys

   To: The British People

   From: An American Expat living in London (and the side of a hill in Italy).

   It's not you. It's me. I'm sorry.

   You've got a lovely country here. Truly. There are so many things I love about it, and about London. The "high street" with its thousands of adorable shops that just go on forever. U.S. urban planners only dream of creating a downtown like yours.

   The cute little houses all in a row with their pretty little gardens and quaint window boxes. Wish I lived in one of those houses, a whole one even, like my next-door neighbors (that Tiffany lamp you guys have behind the stained glass window looks great, I've been meaning to tell you). Instead of the expensive, rented, upstairs part of one.

   The newspapers, the bookstores, the theatre, the telly, the hedges, the roses, riding my bike. I could go on and on. So much to like.

   Problem is, I'm looking for a home. I've got too much stuff not to. (God, is that it?). Or I'm too old not to. Too something anyway.  

   So try to take everything I say with a grain of salt, if you can. It's hard, I know. I've been taking lots of shit from you about America -- and my accent -- for years. (No, I'm not fat actually, but thanks for asking.).   

   Anyway, back to home -- and my so far futile quest for it.

   I know how to go about making this city home. And I guess that's what I should do, considering we've got one job here and all. Get out there and find a job myself (if I can.) Start commuting on the tube like the rest of the masses. Buy a house we can't afford to put all our junk in. And before you know it, you're home, like everybody else! 

    Or move to Italy. And move all the stuff there. But seriously, what does one do in a small town on the side of a hill in Italy in November? Those of you who know Italy know what I mean. 

    Too young -- and too many financial obligations still -- to retire. Even though, I wish I was in Italy now. (Going back soon. Overcast and rainy here. Beautiful there.)

    Or cut our losses now, or at the end of our lease. Go back to the States, the country where our kids are, the country of cheap shopping, lower taxes, higher salaries, cars -- and yes, even some fat people.