Uk is my playground.
The world is my classroom.
Lived. Laughed. Drunk. Shivered and Cried. Frozen Cold Anatomy, Warm Memories.
I went to uk to run away.
I felt Im Huckelberry or Hazelberrry Finn, my laptop is Tom Sawyer, and the British Airways is my raft.
And probably Thames River is my Mississippi.
Forgive me Mark Twain, I know you had better adventures but I can’t help the metaphor.
This a chronicle of my adventures and misadventures, funny, endearing tug of war between British Immigration, English rainy days, my 3 jobs-a-week-life, and nostalgia of homeland I will never forget.
I didn’t come in the usual working channel, I am not a nurse, neither a wife of a local. I came legally though as a legit student, and remaining to do so with my extension. I don’t have any family here, and my core community is half of Southeast Asian (Thai, Indian) and old English locals.
Im a nutter for writing and an audience wouldnt hurt (hence the blog). But I'd like to think that this is more of a diary rather than a showbook but nonetheless, come with me as I peel off the different characters of British life, food, culture, and living, that you would never thought happens in the grounds of Queen Elizabeth as we battle recession, MP expenses Scandal and the bitter coldness of long winters and 2-day indian summers. All in the backdrop of 3 jobs in the food industry, and a 1 year in past tense as a student.
3 jobs. 3 bosses. 3 lives. Thrice the adventure.