look left, not right.

continual amazement as I reacclimate myself to life outside of my little london existence. it seems bizarre that I am re-remembering the oddest of things that I grew up for over twenty years that I forgot about in less than a year. examples: crossing the street, look left; tax is added to all prices, meaning you cannot necessarily have exact change prepared at the till; everyone says 'thank you;' chicago buses don't have a second level and you don't point to the ground when a bus is approaching a bus stop, as it will stop due to your very presence at the stop. and then, of course, there are the words that I use that only garner a quizzical look. I'm sure I'll adjust a bit more each day; this process is just so intriguing in so many ways.

now, onto reclaiming a bit of my chicago life, or at least a bit of the routine that I had when I was here before london: reading the chicago reader. (note: this round of chicago life is going to have a distinctly different spin/feel to it. after this year, it simply must.)