london, here we come. oh no, god bless you.

Hello all,

I am exhausted, and hungry and ecstatic. I will probably stay most of those things for months, and I am absolutely comfortable with that. Because I stay up to catch a ride back from London and watch the Colts win the Super Bowl. Oh yeeah baby Oh yeaaah. I am hungry to save money, and can walk down the street to get chips for a pound. I am ecstatic because I watched the Colts win the Super Bowl. Oh yeaah baby. It was not over until 3:30 or so here. I may have had to study Central and South America while I did it, but I didn’t miss a kick, or fumble, or turnover.
I went to London this weekend. We left at 8:50 Friday morning and I got back at 8:55 Sunday night. I would like to say that I had learned from my trips to Germany, Mexico and Italy to pack light, pack the necessities. And then it comes time to pack for London, I have a conveniently huge and cavernousish backpack, and need different clothes to look smoking if I go out for a (safe and responsible) night on the town in London. And so I end up, focusing on breathing in and out while the entire group jogs the miles (literally) from the house to the train station. It was a near-collapse experience. But we made it. People laughed at me, but they were looking at my back, not back at me, so they could laugh all they wanted. I would not be last. And I was carrying my own bag. So I was okay with that. I totally crashed out on the train to London though, next to a peculiarly smelling man, with my IPOD ears in, and after I exited the train, I realized that I was not certain I had just exited at the right station, and could not see any of my group. Luckily, I was just one of the first ones out, and, while I went through the gate too soon and missed the orientation talk that all but me and Katie endured, I watched them have it from afar, and it gave Sarah (the most incredible friend in the world) time to make it to the station to get my bag from me, as I could not take it into Parliament with me. That thing could have contained a remote control explosive tank. And I don’t think Parliament would be comfortable with that. I did look pretty hardcore, though.
Anyhow, I ended up in the group that went to Brixton, the Jamaican slum-like area of London, and it was a very interesting experience. I did not buy anything or eat anything, and I am not sure everyone in my small group appreciated the experience, but the most valuable part of that for me, was considering that I was about to visit Parliament, and the stark contrast was a very very fascinating one. Now, mind you, in all my insightful highmindedness, gave in and crossed the street to get a Costa frozen coffee in a very nice mall-like complex, watching the more impoverished area fumble about in their diversity just out the window across the street from me. The perspective was an enlightening one to say the least.
Me, Katie and Leslie then got on the Tube to go to their hostel, and soon found out that we knew the right Tube stop, but nothing else, not the name or the address or anything else. So we wandered around for two hours, I accidentally walked down the back stairs to an Italian kitchen much to the owners disgruntlement, and talked to shopkeepers and Italian florists, finally getting some information and finding the hostel. We dropped off their stuff. It was 3:25. We were supposed to be at Parliament at 3:40. At 4:00, we came tearing out of the Tube station into the heart of London, and I ended up holding my pants up with one hand, and my shoes in the other, hurtling down the sidewalk towards the magnificent Parliament building as I darted between the poor and yet surprisingly undismayed Londoners. At least I wasn’t taking pictures while I was running. That would have made me a little bit more obvious and embarrassing.
Ron was waiting outside for us and so we were escorted in to catch up with one of our groups, sweating and panting, walking in the same steps of kings, queens, presidents, and nobility. It was amazing, ornate, splendor. The tour guide was great, the building was breathtaking, and we stood in the room we had watched Tony Blair defend himself in only days before. I loved it.
I then stepped outside and met Sarah Amelang outside the fence, on the corner between Parliament and Westminster Abbey, strolled down towards Big Ben and bought some heavenly nuts on Westminster Bridge, and we stood there, looking out over the Thames at the night lights of London and the lit-up London Eye Ferris Wheel. It was surreal. It was perfect.
The weekend flew by in a blur of wonder and excitement. We got dressed up and went out to see the town, took ridiculous amounts of pictures, sat in pubs, walked through Regents Park (where they filmed a bit of 101 Dalmatians), walked to Camden (punk central of London, basically Hot Topic’s heaven) navigated the Tube like grown-ups, experienced the London concert scene when we went to a Hellogoodbye, Plain White Ts concert (AMAAZING), then went and saw them again after walking around downtown on Sunday, for free at Harrod’s the Mecca of shoppers, and met them, only to argue about the SuperBowl, as they are from Chicago.
Things you should know more about…
Harrod’s is known for being the largest department store in the world. What they do not tell you, and in this case, ignorance is not bliss, is that it is a sort of Egyptian palace of wonders and delight, masked as a “department store, that is, I think, I got quite lost actually, four stories or five or infinity. We finally managed our way to the guitar exhibition on the third floor, which is an exhibition dedicated to the change that rock can make in your life and in your world, of guitars custom designed by musicians. and gathered with the small group of about 100 people around a little stage, to the right of which was a small bar, and to the left, a Don Perignon champagne bar, all in a Dillar’s or Neiman Marcus like setting. We watched the Plain White Ts perform AGAIN from much much closer, so much so we could see up their noses, they put on an incredible show, and then to meet them you had to buy their CD. Well, like two real fans, Sarah and I both already owned their CDs and so we were not going to buy them again. So I simply walked up to the dividing cord and explained the situation to them, we had quite a pleasant conversation, although they called security when they found out we were Colts fans, and got pictures. So I consider it a successful venture.
Oh. And they have perfume in the ladies toilette for you to spritz yourself with. And spritz I did. Sarah and I had dinner at her school refectory then headed to the Victoria coach station just in time for my bus, and I ended up in line behind some pirate characters. Like right out of Pirates of the Caribbean, I kid you not. Hey, for all I know, they were real pirates. It was London after all. Pirates run rampant there. Or so I hear. I ended up sitting next to a Jude Law-ish character the whole ride home. Sweet bliss. I offered prayers of gratitude up to God. And I offered a mini Cadbury egg to my fellow passenger which resulted in a nice little bit of conversation with him. That was it. But I do believe that counts as my second fling. First the laundry room. Now the bus.
So, I clocked it back home just in time for the devo, and started the next morning, hitting the ground running. So happy February folks. God bless America and the Queen.

your k.

p.s. they do not say god bless you here. when sarah did, the man said ", oh. that's nice." and exited the tube.