Sunday, May 19, 2013


About four and a half hours ago I arrived in London by way of a long, long flight filled with good movies and mediocre vegan food (thanks mom for telling Virgin that I'm a Vegan and also Uncle Tom, I really really really like Pitch Perfect- you win). Anyway, I'm here now: pip pip. In order to get to my adorable new home from the airport, I took the Tube. Jesus. While on the underground train the notable lack of public transportation in my past became obvious, if only to me. My anxiety surrounding public transportation did too. That stress was, however, completely overwhelmed by excitement over the fact that here I was, 20 years old, taking the Tube in London from Heathrow to my little flat in Chelsea (which FYI I could NOT have done alone- the only reason I managed to even find customs was with the help of a fellow programmer). But hey, at least it feels like I'm grown up. Also, Johnny Cash is blaring into my window. Strange, ring of fire is not really a sound that I feel parallels my posh European lifestyle. 

My place, though, is startlingly European seeming. Below is the desk and chair where I'm sitting. I'm wearing a big sweatshirt and my hair is wet. Can't you just picture it? I have my own bathroom which is not pictured because I want no one to envision me there. It's probably about 10-15 square feet, shower included. But do I care? Um, no. I have my own bathroom for the first time in my life. 

 My bed!! The bedding had some hair on it. Questionable, no? I decided to ignore it. Also, that's a TV there.

My kitchen-ish. That's a banana on the counter. Also, there's a fridge there. After I unpacked I walked up and down the SAME street about 47 times (with other literary londoners) looking for a damn grocery store. It was closed. I'm a tourist. 

The view from outside of my window. It's really quite lovely, I have to say. Pleasurable thing to wake up to.

P.S. Sorry I didn't flip the photos. I actually did when I saved them but alas they only appear like this. Rude.

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