Me with my sister. I won't pretend I'm always in a good mood.

This post was originally on one of my About Me pages but in an effort towards streamlining this site I thought I would convert it to a post and introduce myself to any of you who don’t already know my path to blogdom.

There’s lots of American Residents all over the world. This American Resident is Michelle (or, @Michelloui). I’ve lived in the UK over half my life but I still consider myself American. With a twist.

Probably once a month I get asked why I live in the UK. Sometimes it’s a British person wondering why I chose three rainy seasons and one partly-cloudy-with-a-few-showers season over four distinctly different seasons, and sometimes it’s another expat wondering what my story is and if it is anything like theirs.

There are lots of us here, both long term expats and newbies. Like novels every story is different but there’s only a few basic plots.

This plot:

Girl fell in love with English man, got married, moved to England, stayed.

This story:

Twenty some years ago, a girl from the Minnesota Northwoods lived in a castle in northern England through an overseas study programme at her university.

That girl fell in love with a local boy who was about to go to med school.

Girl went home to finish her English degree then moved back to England to live in Whitechapel where English boyfriend had begun to study medicine.

Girl tried jellied eels in Bethnal Green, curry on Brick Lane, learned the Tube map, worked in a bookshop where she met Margaret Thatcher, John Irvine and other famous people who wrote and signed books and felt she was a long way from Midwest America.

Girl became homesick.

Girl’s work permit was running out. Options were:  a) go home, b) work illegally or c) get married. Girl and English boyfriend got married.

Living on a student grant and a bookshop salary, girl missed the funerals of close family members because of cost of flights.

Girl became very homesick.

A new job opportunity came up to work for a charity for people with learning difficulties in Kings Cross. Girl left the bookshop and worked for the charity and quite liked it, even though the pay was only marginally better than the bookshop.

Friends’ and family weddings were missed because of cost of flights.

More homesickness.

Girl’s parents visited about once a year, and were very good guests in Girl’s tiny flat. She was grateful of their effort to visit and effort to enjoy their time in London with her.

Girl and husband made use of loads of student discounts and had fun around London. This distracted them from the increasing tensions between them.

Husband chose Minnesota and Vancouver for his medical elective in his final year of med school. This was Girl’s first Christmas in Minnesota in years. She had forgotten how very cold Minnesota winters were. Girl was grateful husband had chosen Minnesota for part of his elective, but also grateful for the mild English winter on returning.

Times were changing: husband was finishing med school, girl got pregnant and the idea was that Things Would Get Better Now. Girl and husband bought a repossessed flat and painted it Canary Yellow (she was pregnant, after all) then after reconsideration repainted it Summer Dawn, which worked much better.

Husband started working 80-hour weeks as a junior doctor.

They both got tired.

They had the baby (a beautiful little girl).

They became more tired. Waaay more tired. Of everything except the baby girl.

The junior doctor pay did not cover all those extra hours husband was putting in, in order to impress his seniors and escape the crying baby and homesick, tired wife. He didn’t want to know what Baby Blues were.

Girl got very homesick.

Husband got a job in Essex.

Hurrah! A ‘change of scenery does a world of good’ and this new family moved from Whitechapel to the fresh, East Anglian air.

Things weren’t as great as they should have been and things got worse.

After much deliberation conducted at high volumes and a vain attempt at counselling, they got divorced.

Girl went through her Dark Phase, starting with pneumonia, one of Girl’s worst experiences ever. Girl was grateful for new friends who could help take care of her little daughter while Girl was ill, as she was a long, long ways from home. Home always seems further when you’re ill.

Once better, girl tried to get a job and manage childcare with no family help, few friends, and zero money. Her English degree from the American university seemed to only inspire jobs that barely paid for childcare.

Girl decided to go back to uni to get another degree. At the same time, her daughter started school in a cute uniform.

Girl made a lot of good friends through daughter’s school. She felt lucky. And happy.

Not sure of what she wanted, Girl dated a wide variety of not many men, while working hard at her Psychology degree.

A good friend began to try to convince Girl that they would be good together. Girl fell for his charms and they started to date. Girl thought it was nice to be romanced by someone who knew her so well.

Girl finished the degree with high marks. She was immensely proud of being a single mother with very little support (and no child maintenance from her daughter’s father) and still she did so well in her degree. And, her daughter was a happy little girl who was well liked and performed well at school.

Girl got engaged to the good friend (who had become her best friend).

Girl started to work in recruitment and loved it. Her favourite part was prepping candidates for interview because she loved bringing out the best in people.

Girl got married to her best friend (who had become the love of her life) and they had a perfect honeymoon.

They had a lot of happy kids in their blended family (cue Brady Bunch theme tune). Girl’s daughter had lovely siblings whom she adored and who adored her, calling her their little sister.

This new family went on many nice holidays together–France, Cornwall, and one of the favourites was to the Minnesota Northwoods. This was Girl’s first time back to her hometown in the summer for ten years.

Girl decided to work from home to help organise this busy house more effectively.

After years of suffering from very painful bunions, Girl’s dad finally convinced her to have an operation on both feet. She then lay about on the sofa for six weeks much to Paddy Cat’s delight–a constant lap.

But Girl got bored out of her head.

Then, inspired by a close friend, Girl opened her laptop one morning and started a blog…

The location of much inspiration--better than a desk any day! And there's My Cat Paddy waiting for the lap to return. He manages to fit between my shins when the laptop is on my lap.