Every now and then I get an inkling that I was supposed to be born English.
Like most proper poms I’m super pale and I don’t mean in a picturesque porcelain way, I kind of have this bluish-white death tinge. Every vein is traceable on my translucent skin and any bruises, cuts or blemishes are extremely noticeable. On a daily basis I’m asked if I feel alright and told I look sick or pale. People genuinely think my pasty complexion is the result of some fucked up illness rather than ill-fated genetics.
My borderline albino appearance ensures I burn to a crisp with the slightest bit of sun. I’m definitely not a hang all day at the beach kind of girl. I prefer to cover my ghostly exterior with layers of clothing and sit in front of a fire. Winter makes me happy; soups, scarves and flannelette everything. The air is crisp, the trees skeletal and the sky grey; everything looks a little like a Tim Burton movie which I love. This weather is what I treasure, I should be chillin’ in the northern hemisphere not sweating it out in this ozone devoid nightmare. I don’t think I’d get SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) living in England, I get SAD here when I Sit Alfresco and Die from sunburn.
Also, English stodge is my jive; mash, pies, chips and yorkies. Artery cloggers are my favourite food group. Anything brown, beige, baked or fried gets my backing. I especially like the rich creamy, milk based dishes, even if minutes after consuming my lactose intolerant guts erupt. Ollie’s Mum introduced me to bread sauce, and my palate (and thigh size) will never be the same again, that dish is the goods.
In with the bulk of the Brits, I was blessed with bad teeth. Thankfully my parents bought me braces and sorted that nightmare out. Still I feel that awful orthodontics and a messed up mouth has brought me closer to the culture.
Lastly, I love tea. Anything from English Breakfast to Egyptian Mint. I adore the carefully crafted tea cups and saucers, and kind of find the whole act of sitting down for a spot of tea somewhat theatric. Tea also helps to ease my anxiety, it’s soothing and doesn’t agitate my tummy like coffee does.
So I’m convinced, England you are my spirit animal. Even if I have none of the class or finesse of a fine English lady. I can chug a pint like a chav and punish a pork pie with the best of them.
