This was intended to be a long post chalk full of pictures and such.
But then my computer and blogger started being an asshole, so we'll see how far I get.
I've been out of NY for almost a week now and while I had a rough start, I'm thoroughly enjoying myself now and back to the swing of things in London. Getting here was a doozy though. After much wasted time standing in lines at JFK, I finally boarded my plane and we pushed off and headed down the tarmac....only to stop and be told they were shutting the engines off and we weren't leaving for at least 2 hours. What has been left out of this story is that I was sitting next to quite possibly the craziest bitch on the planet, who had to be hopped up on meth or crack or something, so those extra few hours were not pleasant. We finally get airborne and they serve us the fabulous airline cuisine for dinner but by the time they reach me...no more vegetarian meals left, no biggie, ate the salad and roll, good to go. Arrive in London finally, get away from miss crazy, get grilled for 5 minutes by passport control and finally grab my luggage and head for the tube at the airport, which is forever and a day away. Get on the train, done. Get to where I need to change tube lines, good to go. Get to Victoria station to catch the overground train to Melissa's and of course there are no elevators here. Cut to me going slowly up the stairs, banging my suitcase and an old man wanting to be helpful and me reassuring him I am fine fine fine but he'll have none of it so he grabs my suitcase....and breaks the handle. Then runs away saying sorry. Now I'm stuck with a broke ass suitcase and have to manage the rest of the journey. By the time I finally reached the flat I was dehydrated, starving and exhausted. I thought "some food, some water, maybe a nap, you'll be good to go."
I was wrong.
So very wrong.
The food I ate, came right back up....twice. Along with the water I drank. My nap turned into having to sleep my entire first day here because every time I went vertical, my stomach clenched and threatened to send me heaving again. The girls here were great and took fantastic care of me, but worry struck because we were leaving for Dublin the next day! Thank the heavens when I woke up all was well, though my stomach was still a little iffy, and Mel and I made our way to Dublin just fine.
Dublin was great, except for all the Americans there. Don't get me wrong I've got lots of pride and love my country, but dammit I didn't go to Dublin to look at and listen to my countrymen. But, even with that, we had a great time there and made it safely back to London. Where the next day I met up with Mo Coppoletta at The Family Business Tattoo shop and got some new ink done, which is gorgeous and I love it. He has a book coming out, which is kind of exciting, and honestly he's one of the most fun tattoo artists I've ever had work done by. An incredibly enjoyable experience both times I've gone to him.
Now my time of leisure truly begins. I have no plans to speak of, which is awesome. Mel and I tried to go to our favorite Friday night hotspot in Angel, for I Love the 90's, only to be horrified to find that it has been replaced with some indie music night and the skankalicious girls were stankin' the area up so we just had dinner and came back to the flat to chill for a bit. A sad let down but I guess all good things can't last. What's up for today? Who knows, the zoo maybe? Reading in the park? Walking the city?
Until next time....
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