What if?

What if I am not cool enough for London?

These are the thoughts that plague me as the countdown is on for the big move across the pond. (Okay if we are going to be painfully open and honest, the thoughts that really plague me are more of the "ohmygodwhatamIdoingwithmylife" freak-outs coupled with ever daunting financial aid stress but who wants to read about that on a Tuesday night?)

London is hip. and cool. and trendy. It's cool enough for Gwenyth to raise Apple and Moses or Bananaface or whatever they named their super cool Coldplay children and for Madonna to get her infamous "British" accent. They say things like snog and fancy and they go to the pub for pints...which is just so much more mature and sophisticated and worldly than going down to the cornah bah for a beeahhh. (ohhhh Boston stereotypes how you slay me)

Plus, they have Jordan. Or Katie. I'm not sure what she goes by these days

Orange tan. big fake boobs. trashy attitude. It's fantastic, whenever I get homesick for reruns of the Jersey Shore, I'll just look for her and immediately feel at home.

or I could be BFFs with Posh Spice. (Now I realize the Spice Girls are like 10 years history at this point but Victoria Beckham will always be Posh to be mmmkay? Can we also notice her outfit- for her son's soccer practice? and that stance? fierce. )

Although on second thought, I fear I'd be hungry ALL.THE.TIME. and I love frozen yogurt. and peanut butter. A LOT. more than I love Posh. so I guess this friendship is destined for demise, but I won't object to casual dinner parties between Sean, myself, her and a one Mister David Beckham. our flat or yours darlings?

mmmmmmm. drool.

Secretly though, I want to be friends with Kate Middleton, Prince William's girlfriend. I think we could hang out. We'd shop for cute pea coats and riding boots. We'd trade crash diet secrets with Fergie and have late night heart to heart chats about the perils of dating a Prince.


(Sorry these pictures are ginormous. Imagine they amplify how much I want to be Kate Middleton's friend. and how much I love that freaking cream white pea coat.)

Seriously though, on a scale of 1 to 10 how cool am I going to be in London? I wasn't such a big hit when I lived in the south. Loud, opinionated Bostonian does not play well with repressed Southern Baptist types...but southern clothing? pshhh I had that in the bag. Give me a Lilly sundress and some pearls and call it a day. But London is a whole new ballgame. I have fears of myself having one too many "pints", letting my verbal diarrhea get the best of me and end up yelling out in the bar phrases like "bloody hell!" and "anyone fancy a snog!" (Sean would probably not appreciate the latter seeing as snog means to "passionately make out")

I think I need to practice. We have roughly 7 weeks left until we leave. Perhaps this weekend I shall throw on some jeggings and ankle booties and go hit up one of the Eurotrash bars in Back Bay to practice my English jargon. This should be fun.