tadaima

Well, I'm back. Joy.

Bah. I'm tired. And I don't want to talk about the trip. Why should I bother? It's a stupid trip. I saw stuff. The pictures I took are all I really care to remember. But right now I'm too tired to wade through hundreds of pictures and pick out the best ones and crop them and fiddle with them and photoshop them and save them in another folder. I'm just tired in general.

The most interesting part of the trip was the traveling just because it was so horrible. The first two planes were canceled. The third had to go back to Denver to refuel. The other two were fine. So we got to London in time for the cruise, but not in time to see London. It doesn't matter; I'm going to live there someday anyway. I'll see it then.

Other than that there were just too many excursions, a cold, gambling, vegetarian haggis, the hot waiter, being able to drink alcohol but choosing not to.

The only thing I've learned from the experience is that travel is hell, that I have the maturity of an eleven-year old, that cruises are overrated, that Europe is pretty, and that I am far too occupied with boys. I'm tired of it.

I don't know though; I seem to be tired of everything nowadays.

I finished Cyrano de Bergerac. It was quite good. I hope I'll get a chance to return it.