Oooo La La! Paris!

 Oh Paris! It's such a beautiful city. It's so different thank London (for once I felt the street layout made somewhat more sense, not by much though lol). The buildings were gorgeous with their little cast iron railings and double doors. I'm in love with Paris, even if it is a bit grungier. However I could never live there. Something about it didn't feel like home to me or even that it could someday feel that way, like London. I'm not sure why, but it felt more like a vacation spot. Maybe if I had more time there this feeling would change.

Anyway, I've been wanting to write about my trip to Paris since I got back Sunday night, but I have been so exhausted. I ran myself into the ground trying to do everything I could in the short amount of time I had in a new city. I've got to say I'm very proud of myself for what I achieved. I saw more, did more, than anyone seemed to have thought possible. So many people were so negative about the time we had. Seriously, people need to take a time out, realize they are standing Paris (in PARIS!) and appreciate the amount of time we have, even if it is short. I had less than 48 hours, but I did everything I had planned and more.

So Friday, around 2pm we find our way to the Eurostar (the train that goes under the channel that connects London to Paris). It's an interesting train ride through many tunnels and a lot of country side. It was supposed to be about a two and a half hour ride, but we were delayed. Twenty minutes outside of Paris, the train stopped and there was an announcement that there was a fatality and we would be delayed. Who does that? Normally, people just say there is a delay, not why when it is this kind of situation. It was so strange, but I never found out more.

I made it to Paris close to 8pm their time, got to experience Parisian traffic (too intense for words), have a brief glimpse of the Eiffel Tower, discover my room had a view of the Tower :-D, then off to dinner with a group of girls who were then somewhat friends. We found a traditional french restaurant and ordered amazing food, wine, and of course french dessert. The best part of the meal was when I tried escargot. Yep, I tried snails. And you know what? It was delicious! There really are no words to describe the taste, but it is superb. I have this belief that life is too short to be ruling things out, I will try almost any food once. Food is very important to me. People who are also going to school with me don't understand why I rarely eat in the cafeteria, why I'd rather spend money on eating out or preparing food. They just don't understand how important food is to me. Back home, my boyfriend puts so much effort into getting me the food I am craving or making a perfect meal. He also feels that food isn't just to keep us going, especially dinner. A meal is a time to slow down and be with others you love. It is a time to unwind from work, catch up with others, and enjoy life. It is a way to best experience a new culture, to be adventurous and dive into an unknown place. It is a way to travel back into time as you taste things you have long forgotten. Food is so much more than people give it credit for. I would rather spend my money on a delicious meal than a new dress. This is why I try not to turn my nose up at something different. Unless it is coconut, lol. People don't understand this and I feel it is limiting themselves from experiencing so much more in life. And diets? Don't even think about it.

 Anyway, after dinner we took a walk to the Eiffel Tower. I don't ever think I will forget my first view of it. It was midnight, and it started to sparkle. I never knew that every hour, on the hour the tower sparkles. I was across the park from it, I got so excited I shouted, "It sparkles!" and ran across the street into the park. I couldn't wait to get up close. I didn't get to go inside this night, but just that view of this beautifully intricate, golden tower glimmering at midnight....it was magical. I studied this in Art History class, but nothing compares to seeing it in person.

So that was the end of my Friday. I was so lucky to get a room with a view of the tower. I got to go to sleep with that being the last thing I saw and it being the first thing I saw when I woke up. Bright and early I joined the group for a bus tour around the city. There was so much close by our hotel. Again we saw the Eiffel Tower, and also Napoleons tomb. I saw this amazing bridge, supposedly the most beautiful in Paris, where newlyweds gather to kiss in front of one of the statues. It's supposed to mean you will be together forever if you do this on your wedding day. I saw countless museums, the Rodin Museum, The Paris Opera House (where The Phantom of the Opera novel is staged), The Louvre, Champs De Elysees (very famous shopping street), Notre Dame (where Jesus' crown of thorns is displayed once a month), and so, so much more.

After the tour, they dropped us off at The Louvre. This is where that group of girls I spent my Friday with went from somewhat friends to hating me. This is why I despise high school drama and 18/19 year olds (there are exceptions). We went to use the restroom where you have to pay a pound fifty to use the facilities. I know some of you are probably outraged, that's $2.30 give or take. I didn't mind, because the service was amazing. As I approached the stall, an attendant went inside and cleaned it for me. Then, when I was finished she cleaned it after me. I thought this was really neat. Why not this level if cleanliness in America? And they had brightly colored toilet paper! I feel that if you are going to charge, then this should be a well serviced bathroom. And it was.

 So we are waiting outside of the bathrooms for everyone and they decided they want Starbucks for lunch. This group of girls refuse to spend much money while abroad. I can understand being on a budget, I'm on one. I know being low on funds, I always am. But these girls didn't want to spend the money for a real lunch. They were just going to get a drink and a muffin or croissant. That's it. It was noon, I'm of course starving. So I announced that I was getting McDonald's and headed up the escalator as they went to Starbucks. (BTW, it is a goal of mine to eat at a McDonald's in every country I visit. I've been told it's different and I want to know if it is true. So far, London McDonald's does indeed taste different. And the one in Paris is the best of all so far.) Apparently, this was the wrong thing to do. From that moment on, they began to hate me. And here is where the high school drama I hate so much plays in. They believe if you want to be part of the group, then you stay with the group. You follow the leader of the group, and that's it. I don't know who is reading this, or how well you know me, but if you are at all acquainted with me you well know that I am never part of 'the group.' I'm never 'a follower.' I make my own rules and follow my own path. If you don't want to come along, that's your prerogative. I'm not going to compromise my desires, what I want to see or do because I don't have someone to do them with me. If that means I have to be a loner, that's fine.

My leaving to get something other than the group led to me now being hated by a group of 19 year olds (and one 22) with a high school clique mentality. One girl tried to defend me by explaining this is just who I am. They said I was an idiot and they hate me. Ah, what level of immaturity did I stumble into when I met these girls? I've concluded, and it's going to sound harsh, that that amount of immaturity mixed with a so-called leader of the group that has a permanent chip on her shoulder equals one thing....bitches. I didn't know at the time that they felt this way. I knew something was up when I went to rejoin them and they weren't there. I had been ditched at The Louvre. Oh well. I actually preferred not being with them. You see, I like to eat and buy souvenirs without being judged.

So, I decided I would head to the Mona Lisa. After all, it is a must see. There was so much I wanted to do that day, so I knew I wouldn't be able to see everything I wanted in The Louvre, so I picked a few main pieces and went with those. (During the bus tour, I was informed that if you wanted to see all that is on display, which is only 2/3 of the inventory, it would take you eight months if you went every day without eating and sleeping while viewing each piece for only 30 seconds. That's a huge museum. Also, from one end to the other is two and a half miles. Yeah, that's why I had to pick and choose. Although her telling me that did seem like a challenge.)

On my way to the Mona Lisa, I ran into a couple of other girls from the group. They lead me to the painting. It was a lot smaller than I imagined, but there it was in front of me. Behind a glass box and a red rope, the most famous painting I ever studied: The Mona Lisa. It was breathtaking. I couldn't believe that me, a small town girl whom everyone told would never make it out of Medora, was actually in front of a painting I have idolized since grade school. I took a moment and moved on. I was on a time schedule. But seriously, that was one of the most fulfilling moments of my life.

 One of the girls decided to join me on my adventure in Paris. I'm glad we found each other because I was ditched, she got ditched later, but we did more than anyone out of any group. Not to mention we get along splendidly. So we followed up with Venus de Milo, Winged Justice, several other pieces I studied in college, and a mummy. 

After an hour and a half we left to find Notre Dame. It was a beautiful walk down the river to the chapel. We stopped at a couple of shops, bought some nice trinkets, and finally made it to our destination. We spent some time admiring the architecture, but did not go in. We had so much more to do and the line was ridiculous. 

We back tracked our way and went down a beautifully small street to get to Musee Rodin, the place I most wanted to visit since Rodin is absolutely my favorite sculptor. On our way down this charming side street we passed a protest against terrorism, some very attractive French guards carrying assult rifles and wearking kevlar and berets, then we found a cute little boutique. Fairly pricey for what it was, but we haggled our way into some cute jewelry. I also found out chunky jewelry is not the style in Paris, interesting. 

We finally made it to Musee Rodin where I marvelled at the glistening white statues created by such a talented sculptor. The people he carved were so life like. I had my picture taken in front of my favorite, The Kiss, and got told off because apparently there is no photography. Doesn't matter, I got my photo. I also saw The Thinker. The whole place was amazing. 

After this we decided to make our way back to the Eiffel Tower to go to the top. On our way, we walked by Napoleon's tomb. On impulse we decided to go in. It was beautifully, and elaborately, decorated. Napoleon had a wish that everyone would bow to him after he was dead so the building was constructed so you had to lean over to look at his burial place. That was well thought out. I was suprised by the size of everything. It was huge. (Another fun fact: When the French received Napoleon back from the English years after his death, he was still perfectly preserved. Hair analysis shows arsenic was his undoing and it preserved his body. Also, someone had removed his penis. It is currently in a jar in New Jersey.) 

So we make our way to the Tower once more, wait in line for an hour to take the elevator to the first floor. Wait in line in the cold again to take the elevator to the top. All in all we were there for three hours, most of it spent in line, but I have no complaints. Watching the sky fall into darkness at that height was breathtaking. At the top you could see all of the main monuments, the edge of the river, and The Moulin Rouge! I loved every minute of it, but it was so cold! I lost feeling in my fingers and toes. 

So after that, we had an amazing meal in a cute restaurant on the way back to our hotel. I had more snails (don't knock it until you've tried it), duck, and my first macaroon! We had quite a rude waiter, followed by a flirty one, and a good view of some handsomely stereotypical French men that may or may not have been gay. We also discovered how common PDA is, and how much more attractive French men are compared to the British. At least in our experience. 

After this, we met up with another girl and went to see a bit of nightlife in Paris. After an awesome ride with a cab diver who didn't speak a lick of English but got a kick out of us trying to understand him, we went to a bar where all the drinks were served with matching glow sticks. Not quite the dance club we were looking for, but it was still pretty neat. And of course, there was more PDA. Actually, our waiter came up to me and whispered in my ear in a heavily accented voice, "You girls are very nice. May I kiss you?" How about that? lol! 

So we finally made it to bed. We had plans to go to Versailles very early in the morning. I only got maybe four hours of sleep again, but it was so worth it. I was the first in the breakfast area and the group of girls from Friday joined me later. I left them to eat to put my stuff in a special room the hotel had set up for us. When I got back the girl I met the day before was holding our tickets and said the others had left. I was shocked they had abandoned us again, but I felt that we would have so much more fun without them. And so we did. We spent a coulpe of hours in Versailles, and honestly, it's hard to describe. The size of the place mixed with the majectic murals,the frescos, the gilded....everything, it was too much for one trip. It was so beautiful and elaborate. I've never seen anything like it. We were so overwhelmed with the beauty of it that our minds were blown. We explored the whole main building and actually ran into the people who ditched us. I said hi, and got a lovely bitchy response back. That's when I knew something was up. Yeah, I'm a bit slow on the uptake sometimes, but I didn't do anything to provoke that sort of hatred so I didn't think anything was wrong. It was only later when they ranted to another friend of mine that I knew what was going on. Oh well, their loss not mine. I would rather spend this semester on my own than be with people like that.

So after a while longer we left Versailles to go shopping at the mall on Champs de Elysees. Turns out it was really small and filled with designer things, so we asked a worker where a different mall would be. He told us the Galeries Lafayette is the largest in Paris. So we took a cab to there, turns out everything not on Champs de Ellysees closes on Sunday. At least we got to see The Paris Opera House up close, it was across the street. We went back to Champs de Elysees on a time crunch as we had to be back at the hotel by 3:35pm. We explored a few shops (including the largest Louis Vuitton in the world where a single keychain costs 298 euros. Do the math. That's scary.) We went to an Italian restaurant (I know) and I had the worst pasta ever. I'm pretty sure they forgot my food because it came fifteen minutes after everyone else's. It was just supposed to be garlic, olive oil, and basil. Well it came out in tomato sauce and it tasted as if they had dumped a whole container of chili powder in it. I like spicy food, but that was so bad I couldn't eat it. I polished off my friends pizza instead.

So we make it back to the hotel where we fall asleep on the bus back to the Eurostar. I did get an awesome photograph of lovely Parisian traffic, however. On the long way back, my new friend and I exchanged ghost stories and when she fell asleep I read all about Versailles. It really seemed like a dream. Did I really go to Paris? Even now it is still unbelievable. I have to go back someday. It was entirely too romantic for me to be there alone. It really is the city of romance and I don't think you can fully get that vibe until you have been there. I want to go back and kiss at the statue on the bridge. There is also another bridge where lovers carve their names into padlocks and lock it onto the railing so that they are forever locked in the city of love. That is on my list as well. I really am in love with Paris. 

This was an extra long blog since so much happened. It was a great way to continue the procrastination of my 3000 word essay due next Friday. Well, I'm off to bed. I have class in the morning then a dinner with some friends so we won't feel lonely on Valentine's Day. However, I am looking forward to my present from Tom which will be here tomorrow. What could it be? Have a happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Cheers!

Different Views Do Not Equal Small Views

In class today, I was asked to write down a list of items that describe me as American, more or less what makes me feel American. I could think of nothing. I've never really identified myself as simply American. It's very different being outside the country, but back home I'm simply from Illinois. I've also never been really patriotic. I rallied 'round the flag in 2001 like everyone else did, but I don't feel that sense of patriotic belonging anymore. I feel that I am so jaded by the current state of things that I would much rather live elsewhere. Don't get me wrong, I would never give up my American citizenship. It offers too many advantages in today's world. However, if I could get my boyfriend, friends, and family (and cats) to move away with me then I'd be perfectly content living for a few years outside the US borders. My teacher said this is an extreme view, and I suppose it is. I have spent my life dreaming of somewhere else, somewhere I feel a sense of connection to, of history. I am currently living in this place and for the first time, I don't feel that wanderlust that has haunted me all my life. I'm sure after a while, I'll miss the cornfields of home and want to move back, but for now I am content.
I digress. In retrospect to his question of feeling American, I do have one thing I could say makes me feel like an American: a good, old fashioned, 1950's influenced upbringing. What does this mean? My parents are from a much older generation than most. My father was born in 1938, my mother 1949. Obviously, growing up in the post depression, poorer Midwest had an effect on my parents. They were raised to be hard-working, more or less penny pinching (sorry guys :-) ) people who knew nothing would ever be handed to them. If you want to eat that day, you have to work for it.  My mother used to tell me stories about having only powdered milk and boiled vegetables for dinner some nights. She also gave me some advice: dandelion greens make a great salad and orange peels taste better with salt. It was a hard life.
Both my parents did odd jobs to bring in money as children. They had to. My dad always worked so hard to provide for his family, he never had a glorious job, yet he never complained. My mother is handicapped, but she always made sure the house was clean, laundry was done, dinner was made. The only complaint I ever heard from her was that her children didn't help enough around the house. Being on my own, I understand where this came from. I sometimes wish I hadn't been such a rebel against housewives and helped her a bit more. (But my brother didn't either :-p) Actually, he wasn't expected to since he was a boy.

Yes, I did grow up with the lovely sense of 'girls do girl things and boys do boy things.' This very thought is why I rebelled so much. I actually got into trouble for listening to the same music as my brother. My dad said that music was for boys. That sent me through the roof. Afterall, my brother was my role model. Why couldn't I do what he did? So I became a massive tomboy, then punk, then Goth. Yay, the rebel. Whatever, but I will always have this lesson with me no matter what I act or dress like: you work hard, nothing will ever be handed to you, when things go wrong, never give up. This is what I consider a 1950's influenced upbringing. You can easily see the difference between this and the modern view of being lazy and someone else will pay for it. Anyway, I'm not here to compare the differences of that. It's too big of a topic for what I'm wanting to say. All I'm saying is this is my American heritage.

Then the teacher asked for items or ideas that symbolize America for me. My list was longer. I stopped and read it and it was mostly negative. Cowboys, loud people, productivity, self absorption, uncaring of the environment, corruption, GUNS (meaning the vicious debate), inability to discuss sensitive topics without offending people, school shootings....I think you get my point. A classmate read this list and told me I have such a small view of the world. Little offends me, but this actually did. Her list read something along the lines of: football, 'Merica, highfives,liberty bell. All positive. How can you say that I have a small view of the world when I am seeing beyond the rose colored glass to the issues beneath? I can get all childish and say, "Nu uh, your world view is small!" but I'm not like that. I respect that for her, those things are what represent America. I don't criticize even if it isn't what I feel because that list isn't meant to reflect me. It's meant to reflect her. I feel that this is one issue with America today, intolerance of others view. Just because my view is different that yours doesn't mean it's a 'small world view,' it's just different. I am fully entitled to question my world and view it how I please. This should be commended for some won't take the time and prefer their bubble.
I'm not meaning this to be an attack on the individual in question. I'm just very passionate about tolerance of others and open discussion. Sometimes, I forget that not everyone is as open-minded as I am, which is why this took me off guard and I was not able to properly explain my view. It's sad when people are unaware of their own sense of self superiority and condescending nature. Sometimes this is just built into the character of an individual and until it is pointed out by several sources and confirmed, they won't have the ability to change. We must accept that no one is above or below another, all world views are valid regardless if you agree, and no view is ever 'small.' We define our world by our experiences and cultural upbringing. We need to remember that we are not the ones who should judge. I want to make a list in the future that says: America: loving, tolerant, open-minded. I feel that I should clarify something. By tolerance, I don't mean political correctness. I feel that we should be able to openly discuss any topic from gay marriage to gun control and so on without fear of being judged. I feel when I have expressed my opinions, since they do tend to go against the popular thought, I have been personally attacked. Don't make it personal and attack someones character, openly discuss and debate both sides of the issue. Be tolerant by accepting that the other has a different view, even if you feel it is wrong. Go ahead and try to persuade, but don't get angry if they never come to your side. Their view is just as relevant as yours. The issue is we all get offended too easily because of this politically correct propaganda that is shoved down our throats. This issue isn't the fear of offending someone, the problem lies in us directly. We take everything too personally and are offended by those who don't agree. It's an attack on us if someone openly disagrees with our view. Why can't we debate it as passionately as we feel, yet still wake up friends in the morning? It's amazing to see the English do it. They argue politics in pubs, it seems like they hate each other, but then they agree to disagree and get on with the night. They enjoy debate and they welcome challenging opinions. After all, how can you defend yourself if you don't practice against all sides of the argument. Leave the personal attacks and insults at home and keep the debate on topic. It's never meant to be personal. Whew, that was a mouthful. Felt good to rant, it's been a long time. Hopefully, I made my point and it's alright if you don't agree. I know I took something personally, but it does happen. I'm trying to continue to grow into the respectful, open-minded person I've always tried to be. Can't take the heat of opposing opinions? Then move aside. Well, it's off to Paris tomorrow! I'll have to write later, cheers!

The Misadventures of Me!

After three trains, a wrong stop, one more train, and a short walk across avery busy motorway, I finally made it back to The Tower of London. It took me over an hour to journey the normally 25 minute ride through the stations. Lovely London is updating and repairing is railway systems. I understand the need for this, but you would think that you would at least leave one direct line to major stations for weekend travelers. After all, The Tower is a huge tourist attraction. Oh well, I really don't have a right to complain. I made it, safely (though a couple areas I went through seemed a little sketchy).

It doesn't matter, I'd travel by horseback through the mountains of Caradhras with orcs on my tail to see The Tower again. I have dreamt of this place ever since I was little. I don't think I could ever tire of the place. I'm amazed by the people who lived and died within its walls. So many stories of triumps and follies. I know I romanticize the place, but I hold it to an almost celebrity level. It's like how some people view George Clooney or Scarlett Johansson. I absolutely love the place. Turns out you can rent parts of it for a day as well. Can you imagine having a birthday party or getting married at The Tower of London? Hmmm, maybe its history is a bit dark for that. Well, you can always rent a different castle or palace. It's kind of neat.

Upon my arrival, the first thing I did was purchase a yearly membership. This may seem silly since I am only here until May. The membership gives me entry into five palaces, places I was already going to visit. Compared to the cost of those places individually and the cost of the membership, the latter was obviously the best choice....and I got a free book :-).

I was able to explore parts of The Tower that I didn't get to before. I saw some of the oldest crowns in England,  Queen Victoria's crown, and interesting military regalia. I learned more about the missing Princes, and sat in the same chapel Queen Anne Boleyn is buried in. I learned an interesting fact about her as well. Apparently, she was originally buried in a chest. The chest was too small, they were unable to place her head where it belonged, so they instead cradled it in her right arm. When Queen Victoria was having the chapel renovated, this was fixed during her reburial. Odd.

I also learned some history of the Beefeaters and that some actually reside in The Tower. It would be amazing to live in a place like that. I'd apply, but you have to serve in a branch of Her Majesty's armed services for over twenty years before you can even apply. Scratch that off of my list.

All in all, it was another amazing visit and most definitely not my last. I'm going to try and do a twilight tour of The Tower this Wednesday. See if I can spot a ghost :-). I'm also thinking of going to Kensington Palace tomorrow, one of the palaces I now have free entry to. I was too exhausted to go today. Luckily, I live rather close to that palace so the tube disruption won't get in the way. So, Kensington Palace tomorrow, The Tower again on Wednesday, then Paris for the weekend! It's going to be a busy week.

Well, I'm off to enjoy a sandwich and crisps. Cheers!

Here we go....

Well, here I am. Blogging. I've never done this before, mainly because I'm not one to share my feelings with many people, especially random strangers. However, since this is an exciting time in my life, I have decided to try my hand at this. Not to mention, I don't really have anyone else to tell. So, if you're interested (or just perusing the internet out of boredom), here we go!

I'm not quite sure where to start. I've never actually been out of the country before. In this day and age, it seems most people are out and about exploring the world. However, when you come from a background of modest means and live almost directly in the middle of a very large country, it is difficult to find a way to get away. I finally did, after twenty-five years of dreaming, I actually made it out of the corn and into something wonderfully magical. However, my success was not met with as much enthusiasm with everyone as I would have hoped.

When I made the announcement to a few family members, it was actually deemed a ridiculous idea. It makes sense, really. Where I come from, most people are content to grow up, get married, and spend their lives in the same little communities they have always known. Or if they don't stay in the same town, they don't move far away. I have never been one of those people. I've always dreamt of doing something more with my life, of seeing the world. Little did I know that would mark me as an outsider in my little village.

As the years went by, so did the opportunities. I passed them up at the advice of my elders. After too many years working jobs I couldn't stand, having a degree in nothing I could use around me, I decided to broaden my chances of working in a field I loved and go back to school. It was only two months into my first semester that I realized my real passion lay in the advertising world, specifically internationally. I have my Media Planning teacher to thank for introducing me into that field. He informed me that the two biggest places for American advertising currently are Hong Kong and London.

That same day I went to the Study Abroad office at SIUE to seek advice. The advisor was very frank about the cost and possibilities I had available. She gave me thick catalogs and pamphlets to look through. Each one said their program was the one for me, but being an unusual student, I wanted something more than classes abroad: I wanted job experience. Something that could change my life almost instantly in the job hunt. However, in the time I had graduated from Blackburn College, I had built a life for myself. I had a longterm boyfriend whom I loved very much(and still do, btw :-) ), rent to pay, a car payment, credit card bills, utilities, on and on my financial stresses seemed. Oh, and two cats, my babies. On top of it all, I had the highest paying job of my life so far, and a set career if my new schooling failed to improve my circumstances. Obviously, I needed to think long and hard about my decision. Was it even possible? What it worth the risk? Would I lose everything I had loved so dear?

I didn't make the decision overnight. I talked for weeks with my boyfriend and a couple close friends.  All in all, everyone said the same thing. I can't sacrifice my dreams or an amazing chance to enhance my resume and broaden my career. They said that there was little chance I would lose anything, so what was the harm in trying? Besides, I've been fascinated with England most of my life, maybe this would finally make me shut up about it :-). All in all, everyone I spoke to supported me, so I applied. The best thing I heard was, "Just go ahead and do it. We will figure everything else out when we come to it."

Honestly, I didn't think it'd really happen. When I received my acceptance letter, I thought, "Well that's nice, too bad I won't be going." Every time I said something like that aloud, my boyfriend would berate me and say, "Stop it, you're going. You know you want to. Don't make me change the locks for three months to get you to go." He was very supportive.
Still, every obstacle I came across, I continued to doubt. My father did always say, "Hope for the best, but expect the worst." That's how I thought of it. However, each problem that arose, we found a way through it. Financial situation: figured it out. Classes: Solved. Visa: Done. Everything really went smoothly. It wasn't until the day I was leaving that it hit me that I was really going. Luckily for me, those who tried to talk me out of it had finally come around by this point. Unfortunately, at the last second my employer decided not to hold my job for me. One thing didn't work out. I'm not too concerned however, I was beginning to despise that job. Too much drama and backstabbing, but I digress.
It was hard, leaving everything behind. I really miss my family, my friends, my boyfriend, and yes, my cats. Actually, that is what got me to start this blog and it was sparked by a movie entitled The Iron Lady. I'm not sure if you have seen it, but it is about Margaret Thatcher, former Prime Minister of England. I was interested in it because I've recently been getting into to British politics and this was recommended to me. I'm sure it wasn't the intention of the creators of the film, I was projecting, however I walked away with a message. I felt it reinforced the idea that I should cherish those that I love today because I don't know if they will be there tomorrow. Well, I know that they won't be here with me physically tomorrow since everyone is an ocean away, but it made me realize how lucky I am to be loved by so many people. I feel I have been a little selfish in abandoning everyone for this trip. My motive was to improve mine and my boyfriends quality of life by using the job experience to gain a better career back home, pay off bills, and live a somewhat stress free life. I'm not regretting my decision, but I am sorry that I did not spend as much time with everyone when I had the chance. I'm a pretty solitary flower, but I should get used to being around those who want to share their company with me. I miss everyone right now. Being sick and stuck in bed for a week didn't help either, :-).
Alright, that is my moment of homesickness, now no more! I'm off to bed. It's almost 1:00am for me here and I want to get up in the morning to facetime a special someone. Then it's off to The Tower of London to purchase a membership to the five palaces. I'm excited, just wish you all were here to explore it with me. I'm still open if people want to visit. I don't mind, honestly ;-). Good night all, I promise happier and more upbeat posts in the future. It felt good to sort of lay it all on the table. Cheers!