You alright?”

This was not the first question I expected to be asked upon arriving in the United Kingdom. What were my new British roommates trying to say? With a confused look on my face I replied, “I’m fine,” and awkwardly retreated to my vacant room. So much for a good first impression.

I panicked. Do I look unhappy? Do I look sick? I’m Italian, these dark circles are hereditary!

This continued for days. “Hey, you alright?” asked the pale blokes around me. It seemed as though not even four shots of collagen would create a smile wide enough to satisfy these Brits.

This was until I realized “you alright” is British slang for “Hey, how’s it going?” Phew. The English have some cool lingo — “bloody” is my new favorite adjective — but “you alright” just doesn’t do it for me.

I could have written this column on how “totally awesome” my abroad experience was, but I know the general populous really couldn’t give a damn about my escapades. So instead of putting you through some self-gratifying rambling, I’d like to share some nostalgic thoughts about America and even Binghamton that I had while across the pond.

First things first — British food sucks. Scones are delish, but you can’t live off them (although many of my friends tried to). The British food staples, like “mushy peas” — which are peas squished together into a baby food-like texture — didn’t tickle my fancy. Neither did the “English breakfast” of beans and toast.

I swear I dreamt of blueberry pancakes and New York style pizza. We Americans may be fatter than our UK counterparts, but can you blame us? Our food is a whole lot tastier than fish and chips. Take that, Jamie Oliver!

If you don’t know who that is, it’s a British chap who comes to America and transforms cafeterias into healthy eating establishments. They love him in the UK. It’s a respectable goal, but if Mr. Oliver takes over the Nite Owl and puts ONE hand on my precious chicken fingers, shit will hit the fan.

The Brits love fashion, as do most Europeans. The girls just had this way of looking so much cooler than me no matter how hard I tried. Even the boys dressed nice. No sweatpants, ever. But I love the fact that in Binghamton you don’t have this pressure of having to look nice or fashionable all the time. People go to class in their pajamas. I even knew a kid who went to class barefoot. Land of the free, bitches!

The Brits are a lot more relaxed in their approach to life. During finals week, the computer network literally shut down for three or four days. You couldn’t access the Internet from anywhere on campus, and all the computers and printers were unusable. For the Brits it was no biggie, yet my American friends and I were flabbergasted. If this ever happened for an hour in the PODS I’m sure a revolt would take place. Hell, people freak out when there’s no paper in the printers.

However, there are some things I think we can take from our mates across the pond. Case in point: my school had a campus pub. Need I say more? Also, the girls drink a lot of alcoholic cider, which was great for me because I’m really bad at pretending I enjoy beer.

Another thing I think we should adopt here in America is paleness. According to some cute English boys, being pale is damn sexy. Sorry Snooki. In fact, they didn’t even know who Snooki was; that’s another plus.

The Brits are also very environmentally conscientious. They recycle a whole lot more than us, sell a lot of fair-trade products and they love bikes. There are bikes and bike racks literally everywhere, and you don’t even have to be a hipster to ride one!

In retrospect, we’re not all that different, us Yanks and the Brits. During my time there, I really did feel quite at home. Perhaps it was the familiar overcast skies like good old Binghamton. Or perhaps it was the familiar overplayed music in the clubs, grinding and dance floor make-outs included.

All that was missing was Rasa von Werder.