In the past few months there's been a number of people who have moved with my company from the States to London, much as M and I did 16-odd months ago. In a lovely twist, two of them happen to be in my business unit and one is a good friend from the States and I'm sincerely and selfishly ecstatic to have him in London. The other is an equally nice fellow and last night he and his wife hosted an ex-pat cocktail party for other Americans in London. M and I haven't done much expat socializing because we kind of don't believe in it...we didn't move to London to be surrounded by Americans and I've heard the expat community here can be really obnoxious. However, cocktails last night were truly lovely - we met some nice new people and got to spend some more time with this other chap from work and his wife both of whom we like a lot. In fact, we've invited them for Thanksgiving (along with some friends of theirs who might be in town), and I really REALLY hope they come as a full house is what Thanksgiving's all about.

Anyway, many of the people at this party last night had moved to London from San Francisco or Northern California and it was somewhat gratifying to hear that all of them have had similar experiences to our own. You often hear expats say "I came for 2 years originally but I've been here for 9" or something equally shocking. The assumption is often that nowhere could be as glamorous or as captivating as London and why on EARTH would you want to go back to 10 days holiday/George Bush/crowded freeways/land of excess? However, every single person in that room last night from California was as homesick as we've been. They were all happy with their choices to move, but there wasn't a person there who wasn't planning on moving back to San Francisco.

It was somewhat of a revelation, frankly. San Francisco is our home and we love it more than anywhere in the entire world. When we moved we said that the best thing that could happen would be for us to fall in love with London more than San Francisco...and if we didn't (which we haven't) it would be fine. I guess I just didn't realize how much pull the city really has on us or how much love we have for it in return. I saw a picture of SF on television last spring and started spontaneously crying...that hasn't happened since, but I can't say I don't feel a tug on my heart each and every time I see something that reminds me of home. I thought that was normal, but maybe it's not...maybe San Francisco does have something special that we're lucky to be a part of and that's making our time over here - while valuable and amazing - harder than it would be if we'd come from Omaha. Or maybe we just really miss the burritos. And the Sierra.

All I know is that I've been feeling annoyed that I have to fly to SF in December for work for a week, getting back to London about 10 days before we have to fly BACK for the holidays. After last night I can't wait for it. Twelve-hour flights aside, I can't wait to kiss my friends, grab a bite, and get just a little bit more time at home.