There is something to be said for real life. It is never predictable, and sometimes you get a detour onto a path you have to go along until you come to an intersection leading to a route that takes you back onto your “real” path.
For the longest time I’ve been melting in the Swedish forests, not really having the will or the energy to keep this blog up and running. So I haven’t. Not while I was in this detour that took me across the North Sea from where I wanted to be.
Now, however, I’ve come to that blessed intersection that allows me to turn around and head back onto the M1, and pick up my real life as a resident in the UK. Yes, I got an acceptance from a realtor on a flat in England. Specifically in Reading, Berkshire.
I admit that I know next to nothing about Reading, but it is one hour away from London by train, to the cost of about £18 – which I should be able to afford occasionally.
Will I be happy there? I don’t know yet. The response from my English friends when I tell them tends to range from ‘Oh god, that dump’ to ‘Well, it’s better than Slough’, which doesn’t infuse much confidence in me.
Still, it’s the UK. It’s near London. And at least one BBC gay comedy series takes place there, so it can’t be too bad. I’ll see if I get knifed in the street when I move there and try to be my usual fabulous self.
Posted on July 21, 2010