It’s come to that point. It’s come to that point where I don’t remember what I used to say in America, and what I began saying when I got here in England. The words, the sayings, the colloquialisms, the phrases – it’s all becoming mushed, mashed, shaken, and definitely stirred, in my mind.

After becoming extremely agitated by a loud, screechy Canadian woman sitting behind us in the bar on Sunday night, I began to think about how much I’ve actually changed. I was so annoyed at this woman and her loudness, that it made me think that if I don’t identify with that brash breed of humans anymore, and yet it’s still in me – where did it all start to change? When did I start to change? My mannerisms, my wordings, the expressions – they’re getting all tossed about, not knowing where they came from.

I’m not sure if I always said “Sat Nav” or if that is a phrase I learned here. In fact, I’m not sure if there is another word for Sat Nav anymore. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t say “I’m knackered” or “I’m shattered” or “I’m chuffed.”

I’m afraid I’ll be scared to drive on the right side of the road. I’m so used to driving on the left side, it’s become second nature. I no longer fear for my life when trying to cross a road on foot – cars trying to slam into me from different directions.

I can’t imagine calling the game “soccer.” It just seems wrong now. When and how did I figure out that I knew all the names of the players in Manchester United? And, when did I begin to understand what Sir Alex Ferguson was actually saying in interviews? I don’t even have to really focus anymore – it just comes naturally.

I can’t imagine having table service in a bar. Or tipping bartenders. Or tipping more than 10% for the waitstaff. The dollar sign is seeming more foreign than the pound sign.

I can’t imagine having my groceries bagged for me at the supermarket, or getting charged additional tax on purchases.

Even my knowledge seems forever changed. I can’t remember the time when I didn’t know Wales was actually a country. Have I always had such a strong dislike for Gordon Brown or was that achieved over here? Did I even know who he was before I moved here?

I also don’t know what I’ll do when I can no longer hear news about such British celebrities’ lives as Katie Price, Cheryl Cole, Peter Andre, Fearne Cotton, Holly Willoughby, the Loose Women, Colleen Rooney and the classy Kerry Katona.

When did Jock and I stop arguing about misunderstandings due to cultural differences? Have I changed so much that I am now a part of that culture? Or, do we just understand each other better now?

When did having a tan become so important? Was it before or after I lost the sun?

Courtney, my childhood best friend, came to visit me a few weeks back. (You can read about it here.) I swear I must have seemed like a schizophrenic – constantly wondering if she knew what I meant when I said something, saying words that were foreign to her but were coming out of her closest friend’s mouth. I’m beginning to feel like I may be changed for good.

It was terrifying for a moment because I thought to myself, “How will I relate to my friends and family when I go back home? How will they even know what I’m talking about?”

Nothing a month back home won’t cure me of, I’m sure.

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