I am by no means perfect. Nor am I disillusioned to think that I could ever be.
I know that I could lose a few pounds, I could make donations to charities more regularly, I could phone my parents more often. But I also know that perfection is something that means different things to different people. It is an individual opinion and a personal judgement that we place on ourselves, and sometimes on others.
Perfection can be a personal goal; an achievement that we would like to reach by a certain date, age, or life stage. “By the time I’m 30 I would like to…*insert personal aim*”. I am sure we have all thought about the things we would write on our bucket list, right? I know that me and D have.
In our everyday lives, we are always striving to make ourselves happier. We go to the gym so we can improve the way we look. We go to University to better our chances of a successful career. We work to earn money so we can buy nice possessions. We are all working towards reaching our own personal ideas of perfection, whether we consciously know it or not.
My own personal goals towards individual perfection (or excellence!) are behind starting this blog. I want to be able to confidently talk about who I am, what I do, and where I would like to be in the future. I want to be able to share this with you, if you will read it.
Many exciting things have happened recently, and I hope many more exciting things are lined up in my future. My own personal achievements include graduating from University, landing a job working with children (and loving it!), moving 5,200 miles away from home, starting a new life in a foreign country as well as everything else that comes with it. Other happy moments in my life, that I am sure you will hear about, include getting married, watching my sister and her husband raise our niece and witnessing her grow into the most funny, adorable and loving little girl.
A big part of our life for the past 10 months has been moving to California and adjusting to the cultural differences that we have experienced. Growing up in rural England, you have so many different perceptions of how it is to live Stateside, particularly on the west coast. You see pictures of beach bunnies and surfers, looking immaculate, and spending all day at the beach, working on their tan. This isn’t real life! Yes, my tan has improved since moving to the Golden State. Everyday life, such as going to work, food shopping, sitting in traffic, still exists.
Our most recent experience of American life, or maybe traditions, is visiting a pumpkin patch to pick out a selection to carve with my parents. We arrived at the Spina Farm in San Jose to find it packed with families. Parents were sitting their young atop of pumpkins and hay bales to take the traditional picture that will be used to embarrass the child for many years to come. Our first thoughts: we were the only ones there without children. Our excuse: we are British and this is our first American holiday! We wanted to experience the hype of going to a pumpkin patch to select your own future masterpiece, rather than walking into the supermarket and rummaging around the shelves to find the one that Tesco had strategically placed at the bottom of the pile for you to spend time searching for.
Unfortunately, the actual patch was closed due to flooding, which was a little disappointing but they had worked hard to make sure that there was still a great selection of pumpkins to choose from and had organised them fantastically just outside their farm shop. We were impressed that they had arranged the pumpkins around hay bales, and in different sizes. It was impressive to the Brits!
We made our choices and I then very carefully drove us home, which was a feat in itself with trying not to brake or accelerate too hard or my parents would get a pumpkin to the back. Note to self, take blankets or boxes to secure the round beasts in the boot of the car next year. Once the pumpkins were safely home, we started to design our pieces of art. D took his time, using precise measurements to draw his design on paper while me, Mum and Dad got stuck in with the dirty work! We worked hard and took our time, some more than others, and it paid off! We were very happy with our handy work:
This is the first of many of our stories of adjusting to life abroad, so please stick around to hear more of our adventures and tales of living life in CA, which I hope will possibly make you laugh, cringe and even cry!
Don’t give up on me yet, this is just a taster of what’s to come.