the smugness of life change Bloggers

I did a search on Blogspot for other people who had moved to France and were blogging about it, the tone of the feeds almost universally was 'look at us we made the move from blighty and now we are better than you' they seemed to present an image of everyone’s life being idyllic in France, that all problems were banished by having the courage to move to a new country, and start living in some other way. I only hope I haven't communicated this in any of my posts, but I fear I may have. Yes life is better, I have my own place, a job I enjoy, some nice new friends, and above all am living with the girl I love. But if these things had happened in the UK I would be brimming with smugness. And yes life is different to life in the UK, but life in the UK is great too. I emphasize the good things, quality of life, great scenery round here, the relaxed attitude etc, as this blog bears witness, but as with all things there is a balance, and after a year of good living I feel I have a little perspective to offer.
I think in an earlier post, way at the beginning that learning French was the hardest thing I have ever done, and that stands tall as the one thing that separates me from truly living here, and the one thing I am determinate to work hard at and kick its ass, I WILL be able to drop comments to random strangers that talk to me on the bus, I WILL be able to join in the Monday morning conversations about crap we did at the weekend. Its not like I'm not making progress, I can be understood when I say quite complicated things, I ordered Buffy’s ring in French, and felt like a god when it came out looking like I wanted! and I understand more and more, but the ease of communication is gone, the picking up of casual comments is not happening, overhearing snippets of women gossiping on the tram doesn’t happen, making a witty comment to the supermarket girl to try and ease her day, just is not possible yet.
one of the things I consider myself quite good at is taking in English, I enjoy it, I like language, and words, and having that taken away from me is a bit like having your tongue cut out, and having to will each cell to grow back by remembering words and unlearning a lifetime of wit and humor, and phrase and unconscious grammar. But I will succeed. Its not all wine and cheese. But my life is better.