Goodbye

It's over.


I'm home now. I'm back in Boston. I just got it yesterday after spending 10 hours in Heathrow because I missed my flight by 10 minutes (fucking cab driver). Then some Indian man tried to get my number and told me he was from Portugal. Why would you lie about something like that? I mean, you are old and gross, so being from India isn't going to make your points go any lower. I'm shallow, not racist.

I'm not happy about it. When I was in London I was excited to be back here. I wanted to see my friends and family and get a job and see my pretty little cat and now that I've done those things I couldn't give a wank. I just want to be back in my dorm room in Furzedown, looking out my window onto the school where all the little wanker children would play at fucking 8 in the morning. I want to see the dishes piled high and have only one tap to drink water out of. I want public transportation that works and to climb up the double decker stairs when the bus is moving and risking serious injury. I want to see Rosie, Mark, Josh, Callum, Ocky, Becca, Elenor, Amaranthe, Leigh, Paul, George, Fran, Megan, Alex, and all the others. I want to roam the streets of London; the dirty, beautiful streets of London. Did I use that semicolon correctly? Probably not.

I have almost cried a couple of times, but I guess I can't be too upset because I know I'll be back there soon enough. I'll see some of those people again and I'll walk those streets again. I'll see Brick Lane, Portobello, and Borough Markets again and I'll CONQUER it all.

Dublin was boring, by the way. Drank a lot. That's about it.

I guess this is the end of my London blog. There isn't much more to say except that it is one of the greatest cities on earth and the opportunity I was given to come here was more than I could have asked for. I love London. That's that.


I still need to find an English husband.