Give or take a week I've now spent one tenth of my life living in the US. I've resisted the temptation to calculate it down to the exact day; I think it's bad enough that I've narrowed it down this closely. And this isn't even counting the time (almost six months) I spent in the US when I was still really living in Australia.
I probably shouldn't admit this but I fear Melbourne will seem even more alien, next time I'm there, in September, than it did last time[^]. I'm definitely not admitting that hearing the Australian accent on Australian films and TV shows *does* sound odd in my own ears!
To say nothing of the slight puzzlement I feel watching the aforesaid visual entertainment and seeing someone drive a car whilst sitting on the right hand side of the vehicle. I suppose it's overlaying five or so years of recent experience onto older experiences; when one sees drivers on the left all the time it becomes the 'natural' way.
I still cannot cross the road without looking the 'wrong'[^] way.
Of course, I still tell people around here that *I* don't have an accent; they do! Most are polite enough to laugh. I still enjoy the shock when I open my mouth and speak; I look 'normal' enough to pass for a local, if one discounts the unfashionably long hair. I'd reckon about one in ten times I say something and the listener, if s/he has never heard me speak before, will register shock and awe.
But they ain't completely got me yet! I still find the American Hamburger a disgusting thing; likewise ketchup!
Of course, one tenth of my life is *still* only one tenth of percent[^] of the age of the pyramids.