*sigh*

I’m back in my home and native land, writing this from my backyard. Pining away for London next to the three pines that are shading my space.

I know it’s wrong. I shouldn’t be missing the cold, damp weather I left when I’m here, comfortable, in the Canadian sunshine. But if it’s wrong, I don’t want to be right.

I always go through the phases and stages of grief after I return from an extended stay in the motherland.

First, denial. No, I will not unpack my bags. This is just a stopover. I’ll be back cramped in a dry airplane before I can say cheerio.

Anger. Why the heck isn’t Canada part of the EU? Who ever thought it was a good idea for Canada to gain independence from the UK anyway? More importantly, why couldn’t my great grandparents just stick around the Isles long enough for my grandparents to be born? Then I could claim ancestry. Argh!

Bargaining. Right, so if I stay here for a little longer, I can either save enough money to take another extended trip OR I can find a killer job, earn buckets of money and qualify for a highly-skilled migrant visa. I need to put some ads on this blog. Yeah, that should help me rake it in! Ummmmm….

Depression. Forget it. I’m stuck. I’m chained to the maple for life. It smells nice. It tastes nice. But it’s not enough. I want black cabs and afternoon tea and royalty and pimms and black boogies.

Acceptance. Fine. No, really. It’s fine. I’m fine. I love Canada. I do, I really do. It’s beautiful and vast. WAY bigger than the U.K., minus the funny accents. Sort of. I never get hassled at the border (Yes, officer. This is my English boyfriend, I swear it!)

Besides, Chapters carries all my favourite English magazines, Shopper’s Drug Mart stocks up on Boots products and I just read that L’oreal Elnett is launching throughout North America.

I’m home. For now. Beavers rejoice

Tags: General Lori-ness //