Hung, Drawn and Quartered

I hate people.

I mean, not individuals. I love individual people and have a tendency of getting along with almost everyone, it's groups of people that I hate.

Since living in England and travelling to London I've discovered a few things, most of which involve the fact that I can't stand being in large crowds and how people in England seem to ALWAYS be too close to me.

Instead of writing my two essays that are due at the end of this week, I chose to finally write another blog after too many months (let's not get into specifics, okay?) of neglecting it.  I figure it's a good way to get all the "informal" writing out of my system before I start wiring about media and television and blah blah blah.

So a few weeks ago Wesley and I spent a few days in London. An absolutely beautiful place: yes. An absolute headache: without a doubt.  Groups and groups and groups of people push and shove and wander through the streets making me not even recognize myself.

I started thinking things that were so unlike me. The old woman walking in front of me was no longer cute. Instead, I had a sudden urge to kick her cane away. Terrible, I know. I was so embarrassed that I didn't tell Wesley for at least 30 seconds.  I found myself enraged by the middle aged man who couldn't seem to decide what side of the road he wanted to walk on and I was swearing up and down that if one more person bumped into me, I was going to scream.

The underground was horrible. So many people packed into a tube shoulder to shoulder, sweating and breathing on my neck. One woman squeezed herself in entirely too close to me and then started to READ A BOOK, elbowing me the entire time. Leaving the underground was equally as stressful. I tripped and stumbled over everyone on my way out, all the while apologizing profusely while getting no response from anyone.

Wesley claims it's all like this because England doesn't have as much space as the U.S. does, which I can honestly understand.  I figured out that that is why all the isles in the supermarket always seemed to be packed full of people that are constantly backing into me. MAYBE LOOK WHERE YOU'RE GOING!  I miss the spacious isles of the large supermarkets in the U.S.

Despite all the people that made me want to cry, London was an absolutely beautiful place with a history that Americans can't quite comprehend.  The architecture is amazing and breath taking and I even got a bit of a sun burn! Not too shabby for the notoriously rainy country.

We had a wonderfully entertaining tour underneath the London Bridge that was full of information about the great fire of London. We also learned all about the traitors being hung, drawn and quartered.  After the educational aspect of the tour, they proceeded to lead us through a scare house where I screamed more than I can ever remember screaming,

We also saw Buckingham Palace where I tried desperately to get in. After all, Wesley always tells me that I'm a princess.

We ended up in a club called Tiger Tiger with my good friend, Steph and housemate, Ryan. The night was mostly like any other night out, with the exception of the waitress thinking that Wesley and Ryan were a gay couple.  She even told Wesley that she liked his purse. Asking him to watch my purse while I went to the toilet was the best decision I've ever made.

All in all we had a fantastic time, despite all the sweaty people on the trains.