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Jul. 28th, 2007 12:23 amA few more hours and I'm off to Scotland and goddammit one day I'm actually going to write about this trip so that when I'm old and senile I can be entertained by the antics of a confused young American in the British isles. Maybe when I'm lying on a beach with Krystle in two weeks or so. Man, am I ever feeling excited about the beach.
Send me good thoughts and hopes that the bus journey this time will be less hellish than the one back from Wales. The trip out to Wales was excellent, the bus wasn't even at half capacity, so I spread out over two seats and slept the whole way. The trip back was on a smaller bus that was filled to capacity. The absolute worst, though, was that the distance from the back of the seat I was sitting in, to the back of the seat in front of me, was less than the distance from my hip to my knee. So my options were basically a) have my knees pressed painfully into the plastic moulding, b) sit with my legs out in the aisle and my spine awkwardly twisted, or c) scrunch up with my shins braced against the seat in front of me. It was horribly uncomfortable.
And that was a three-hour bus journey. This one is a little more than three times that long.
And then when I get back I'm going to have to do some judicious re-packing, since I thought I had everything settled (it literally just barely all fit, and I may have bent the space/time continuum just a bit to acheive it), then looked around and realized that I hadn't yet packed my computer or power cables. Sigh.
Remind me to write about the Tate Modern when I'm not so tired my brain is leaking out my ears. I'm excited about Scotland and Belfast (or would be if I wasn't emotionally dead to the world, because tired), but I'm going to miss London like... like nothing, really. I don't miss anyplace else the way I can tell I'm going to miss it here. I miss people back home (Krystle, parents, friends), and situations (getting enough sleep, driving my car, watching TV, hanging out at SMC with everybody). But what I'm going to miss most about London is London itself. I'm going to be an emotional wreck on the plane home. (Although maybe I can arrange things so that I'm so tired as to be emotionally dead again. We shall see).
Erin
Send me good thoughts and hopes that the bus journey this time will be less hellish than the one back from Wales. The trip out to Wales was excellent, the bus wasn't even at half capacity, so I spread out over two seats and slept the whole way. The trip back was on a smaller bus that was filled to capacity. The absolute worst, though, was that the distance from the back of the seat I was sitting in, to the back of the seat in front of me, was less than the distance from my hip to my knee. So my options were basically a) have my knees pressed painfully into the plastic moulding, b) sit with my legs out in the aisle and my spine awkwardly twisted, or c) scrunch up with my shins braced against the seat in front of me. It was horribly uncomfortable.
And that was a three-hour bus journey. This one is a little more than three times that long.
And then when I get back I'm going to have to do some judicious re-packing, since I thought I had everything settled (it literally just barely all fit, and I may have bent the space/time continuum just a bit to acheive it), then looked around and realized that I hadn't yet packed my computer or power cables. Sigh.
Remind me to write about the Tate Modern when I'm not so tired my brain is leaking out my ears. I'm excited about Scotland and Belfast (or would be if I wasn't emotionally dead to the world, because tired), but I'm going to miss London like... like nothing, really. I don't miss anyplace else the way I can tell I'm going to miss it here. I miss people back home (Krystle, parents, friends), and situations (getting enough sleep, driving my car, watching TV, hanging out at SMC with everybody). But what I'm going to miss most about London is London itself. I'm going to be an emotional wreck on the plane home. (Although maybe I can arrange things so that I'm so tired as to be emotionally dead again. We shall see).
Erin
