London, baby
After what feels like weeks of mother overdose - but has in reality only been a few days - I finally fly home tomorrow. Between Tues afternoon and Fri night I will have the house and car all to myself, mother-free! Yay!
I was thinking of throwing a party, but that involves, like, a shitload of planning and stuff, so forget it.
It's a bit weird to be back here in the UK. Everything is simultaneously familiar and yet different, like how the physical manifestation of something you've only previously seen in a dream conjures up a sense of deja vu that's a bit off. Between rushing around with my sister's ten thousand luggages and rediscovering a city I've never been fond of, there hasn't been much time to put old ghosts to rest.
Then again, I haven't actually felt the need to.
I've decided that for all my gripes about Britain, I do like London, after all, and Oxford too. But I don't think I'll ever be able to live here, for two main reasons: I can't fit into anything and I don't speak British. Britons say really strange things. I was buying breakfast the other day and asked for tea (I do love tea; it's one of the main reasons I would consider moving here in the first place) and the cashier lady asked me something that sounded like "Tea or report?" Of course I was like, "Beg your pardon?" (taking care not to say "Har??"), and she kept repeating "Tea or report?" until it dawned on me that what she was actually saying was "Tea or a pot?" Which doesn't make much logical sense either but at last I caught the drift and was able to answer, in my best British, "Just a cup, please." But that's way too much effort for tea, man.
On another note, c7676 combines two of his passions - reality tv and travelling - with hilarious results, as usual.
posted by zyn ::
9:52 PM ::
2 Comments ::
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