I'm an alien

I'm a legal alien, I'm an Englishman in New York (or Nashville, TN)

Age 56, turning 57 in April, and here I am, a Brit who's been living in the United States of America since 2002, a Yorkshire Terrier for company. I have two sons, both studying at the University of Tennessee, Knoxville.

Of course, that brings a huge amount of Tennessee orange to my life, which might be the hardest part of my whole transition to America. Except there's also that awful Rocky Top song. I jest (kinda) because I'm proud of my kids, and I'm working on my enjoyment of all things orange. But transitioning to America brought its challenges.

Oddly, a weird part of me feels like I've lived here before. In the Louisiana swamps, of all places. Don't ask me why, but it's like I can hear them, smell them, like they're part of my DNA. Maybe that's where I'm meant to live, rather than Nashville, TN. I'd be a little afraid of an alligator chewing my feet off, of course, and the snakes, and spiders, and other dangerous creatures. Britain is so naturally safe compared to hear, with it's bears and…

I don't want to think about it.

I had a spider in my British home, one I could set my clock by. Literally. 11.10pm, every single night, it would emerge from beneath my couch and run across the carpet toward the fireplace, then slip into a crack. It didn't occur to me to kill it because I knew it wasn't poisonous. None are. And it was my favorite, late-night party piece when friends were around. Because I had them. Lots of them.

Here, I feel more alone. There's far less, "come over for a nice cup of tea and a chat," here, and I miss that. But I'm half-American now, and I have the swamp, and I'm trying to decide what I want to be when I grow up. A writer, obviously, but beyond that? A recluse, a drunk, a cockle farmer, shrimp farmer? Who knows, but these are the kind of problems other people envy. Right?