An Excuse for a Party

July 15th was a big milestone for me. It marked 2 years to the day since I arrived in the USA, a timorous immigrant who didn't know his American arse from his elbow.

2003 was an exciting, unsettling year for me - moving to the States was like stepping into a parallel universe, where everything was subtly different from my cosy (if chilly) British world. I launched myself into work for the local newspapers and a quirkily-run theatre company, and had my confidence knocked early on when I landed in traffic court for that most heinous of South Carolina crimes, being "too foreign-lookin'".

These days, I don't find driving so scary any more, although I still obey the rules of the road and even stick to the speed limit, to the disgust of my friends Heather, Christie and Trevor. I don't think I'd still be here without their support and I feel very lucky to have found them.

One day my arrival here will be a distant memory and I'll feel like I've earned the right to call Charleston my home town. Until then I'll continue to feel a little strange in this extraordinary land - a feeling I've had to learn to get comfortable with.