I Give the D like it was Jesus.

Today was really eventful. I feel like the tides are changing. I have been having some bad luck, which is weird because normally I am very lucky.

But check this: got a random job from someone who knows someone who knows my mom, they somehow knew I was a tutor and I got a gig helping a lady pass the math section of the GED. $90 worth of tutoring!
During that job I got a call from an after school program that wanted me to come in for an interview to be a sub for their after school teachers. I went over and I got the job. All I have to do is get a TB test.
Viki called, she is going to put in a good word for me at the book store she works at. I applied there and I still want that job because I don't really want to be a sub. I want regular hours and regular pay. Something I can count on. But the subbing pays more and looks better on my resume than being a bookseller would. We shall see though. (hope i get it, hope i get it) I want to have both jobs but I don't know how that will work.

I have formed a bad habit of posting to the Craig's list casual encounters/personals. I actually posted "curvy girl looking for good sex". A dude who went to High School with me responded. Hella weird. He used to be on the football team, I didn't pay much attention to him because he acted like an idiot. In his e-mail he wrote "hi u look familiar, kinda like a cutie i remember in high school, so ill take it slo for a sec. I'm in town, you can check out my facebook. Good sex is an understatement, i give the d like it was jesus."
haha, best line ever. the d like it was Jesus. My ad was forward, as were all the other men who responded, but when I actually talked to him on facebook it was about like what we had been doing since h.s. and music we like. And he knew about doctor who! I tried to move the conversation to the sexual sphere but he started talking about relationships. Then we actually had me arguing against relationships and him arguing for them. It was weird. Again the stereotype that men just want sex is broken down. Men as people with feelings is so much more confusing than men that only care about beer food and sex.
So we talk, go to bed late, next day arrives and then I do my day stuff and at night crawl into bed to check my e-mail and suddenly I'm thinking, oo did he e-mail me? This is why I hate my brain. Slightest bit of attention and suddenly I am thinking about this guy a whole lot. A male friend of mine had a long conversation with me while we were drinking whiskey, and then the next time I saw him I said my little brother told me I would be reincarnated as a black widow spider and he said I would never because I am not like that at all. he said it twice. for like a month I kept thinking about him. This is what gets me in trouble. I wasn't even attracted to him before that!
Also, an old friend is coming to town for the weekend. We almost hooked up at his going away party, we were pretty drunk which is why I decided to decline at the last minute. So now I am thinking about asking him if he would like to hook up (hey, and I am not even drunk!). But I'm afraid he will say no, and afraid it will be very awkward if he says no and tells his friends. He isn't that attractive either. I am just really horny I suppose. Or I am longing for some kind of connection, with a dick.
If I don't have sex this week I will scream. and then buy a new dildo.

I think I lost a friend

I am having a really rough day.

I've been emotional lately, I'll acknowledge that. Not many people have seen me cry, I don't really get mad. But the past few weeks everything just gets to me. I catch myself crying at commercials and stuff. So it's probably that I am coming off of some anti-depressant medications. but I don't know, and I can't change it either way.

So I've been calling Maria and John a lot. My two best friends. John has been busy trying to get sober and I've been traveling so I haven't seen him much. But Maria and I are best friends and I see her all the time. Except not for the past month or so. She wasn't ever calling me back, never hangs out. Would only make vague plans to meet up and then wouldn't be there. I was annoyed and thought, oh well she doesn' have a cell phone maybe she just isn't getting the messages but then I e-mailed her. And she e-mailed me back. This is exactly what she wrote:

"The reason I haven't called you is because I have been very busy with my new job and current art projects. Also, I don't really want to hang out at your house and when I bring you around my friends I've noticed that you are fairly condescending toward them. You may not agree with that because you don't realize yourself, but it is apparent to everyone who it happens to and I see it too. They are all perfectly nice and you choose to in a way talk down to them, snub them if you will--it's not very nice. So I dunno, I don't really invite you out to hang with them because of this. "

I honestly had no idea I was acting condescending. I have no idea. But I guess it is similar to my sister saying I act "better" than her. I have no idea how I do it, it isn't like I think I am better or anything. But I was just really hurt by this. I cried on and off for an hour and then started baking (I know, I'm going all Izzy Stevens on you). I mean, I don't have very many friends, and she is my only hang out friend (like friend who hangs out with me on a regular basis). Then I thought - John hasn't been calling me back either. He is really flaky but maybe I am making excuses for him just like I did Maria.

Magically an hour later John calls. He has been avoiding me because he was back on H, and now he is in rehab. Has been there for a week. I just started laughing because just when everything is falling apart it is like god just pokes me and says "oh, it's not that bad". So at least he is ok and I have him.

But I don't have anyone to hang out with and I have to go get my bike from her house tomorrow. She lives in the next town. It kinda feels like breaking up with someone. The surprise, the crying, the getting of stuff and the whole awkwardness thing when you see each other. But of course it isn't as bad as breaking up. The worst part for me is that I have no one to hang out with now. I don't really know how to make friends, that much is clear. And apparently I am condescending but I don't know when I am doing it so I can't really control that.

I e-mailed Juliette and asked her if we were still friends and told her what Maria said and she thinks that Maria has her own problems and just can't deal with my problems and her problems right now, because she had to take up a waitressing job and couldn't transfer schools. Wow, (I sarcastically think), her problems are so hard...she has a job but still lives with her parents so she has no bills, and she didn't transfer because she missed the application deadline which was her fault and she can apply this year. Maria is a cool person but she thinks she is smarter than everyone. She likes to remind me that she would have graduated sooner than me and with better grades but she was having actual fun instead of applying herself, and that she had depression once too so why don't I just get over it. I guess if you don't know much about Maria she sounds like a bitch there but she listens and takes me on adventures and once she helped me take a pregnancy test (she even got someone to steal it for me) and she got my pee on her hand. That is how good a friend she is. or how good I thought she was. She thinks I am being over dramatic and vaguely said we might hang out again one day but somehow it made me feel worse than ever.

My own enemy

It is really frustrating:

I am feeling a bit lonely, an I am daft in the head so I've been laying about watching this old show called Doctor Who. It is si-fi shwo about a alien time traveler name 'the doctor' and a london girl named Rose. Except that I am now watching the second season and they are going with this depressing theme of the Doctor not really loving Rose or maybe leaving her when she so obviously loves him, which is odd because before they were not in love. and they keep exposing the doctor as a guy who loves them and then leaves them. So that got me in this mood and I was listening to all these London accents on the show and I suddenly thought about the man I slept with in London. His name was Joe.

I was staying at Earl's Court (South Kensington, I believe) and there was the Irish Pub called O'Neill's down the street on the corner and it is all blue on the outside. I sat down in the mostly empty place, it was May 30th which wasn't anything special I think and then all these people start sitting at the table I am at. Turns out some photography website on-line meets once a year and I happened to be at the table they planned to met at in the pub they planned to meet at. and so on. But since they are all Internet buddies and don't know what their friends look like in the real world they had no idea (at first) that I wasn't just another member of their group. This guy Joe is the first to talk to me, and he ends up talking to me all night. The name of their group sounded vaguely dirty so at first I thought I walked into something weird but they were all really fun.

The thing is the next morning I decided I never ever wanted to try to look him up. I have a bad habit of getting attached to just about anything. Heck, I looked up and wanted to befriend via facebook this guy I slept with in Santa Cruz. I don't remember much of that meeting, but another story for another day.

So I sabotaged myself. All I wrote in my Journal is that I met Joe in a pub and came home around 6am. There was loads more to that story and the details are all slippery and I can't remember them. I figured out the pub because I used Google Maps, it was only down the street from my hostel. But that leads me to why do I even care? This guy was a one night stand and I'll never talk to him again.

Well, I'll post the full story of him later and maybe you can tell me why I have a soft spot for that memory. I think I already know.

Edit: the story of Joe is here but his whole "fair enough" thing made me crack up laughing every time someone said that ever after (which is alot in Europe).

First Post

Ok, so this is how it is going to go down.

I am going to do this post and then I am going to go through my journals and write in everything that has happened since I took off in May. Because this has been a crazy summer and you should hear all of it first hand, not in side remarks. There are also some bits on information I find interesting (like history) kinda mixed in.

Two things to know - I am trying to keep this annonymous, mostly because if anyone I know reads it they will either be hurt by what I say or shocked by what I say. Because no one in my family tells the truth and everyone has secrets. And this will be like laying my underclothes to dry on the lawn. So if you figure out who I am, keep it to yourself. Names are changed to protect everyone involved.
The other thing to know is most of the posts include details of my sex life. If you find this and you are related to me just you've been warned. No one wants to picture their family doing some things.

So now you got the warnings here is the gist. I'm Sky and I need an outlet so I am going to write about my life here. I hope people will read it because sometimes I feel alone in this. My family are completly nutts and my friends are crazy and everything is all wrong. So it would help me if you just lended an ear and hope this has a happy ending.

Enjoy.

Bonjour Paris

I love Paris. I've been here for about 24 hours and within the first few I thought to myself, I could live here. They use a 24 hour clock, the streets are small but the sidewalks are big, everything is small. Everything is beautiful, every building and every person. I was told that Napoleon knocked down all the dirty ugly wood houses and paid to build these beautiful stone apartments all through the city, just for beauty's sake. Isn't that amazing? I keep looking at the sky thinking I am in a different world with the same sky. But actually the light is different here, I didn't notice at first but it is softer.
Yesterday I got on the train to Paris and this guy sat next to me.
"That's my seat. I'm supposed to have the window seat." He seemed kinda angry.
"Oh, sorry. Want to switch?"
"No." He seemed resentful.
"Are you sure?"
"How about we switch half way through?"
"I'm going to fall asleep half way through. Why don't we switch now?"
"No, you sit there."
Sure enough I slept the whole time. When the train stopped and I woke up I could hear him grumbling about how I took his seat and then wasted it by sleeping.
Juliette's friend is letting me stay with her and her family in the Latin quarter. Her name is Carla and she is about my age, and her brother is like 15 or something and his name is Sandro. Carla an I didn't recognize each other at first so I had this nervous moment at the train station where everyone was clearing out and I didn't know where to go. But Carla found me and I followed her to the metro. She walks so fast, it is like running. Her house is super cool. You open this giant blue door and you go through a hall that leads you to a big courtyard. If you look up there are tall white apartment buildings. The lift inside could barley fit Carla and I, we were touching because it was such a tight fit. But the staircase is beautiful and spirals to the ceiling. I've heard the apartments are small here but really it was just comfy. The bathroom and toilet room are separate which is kinda cool. Carla let me use her room. I never really figured out where the parents sleep though. All the furniture and floors are made of dark wood and the sun shines through the many windows that overlook the courtyard. It is beautiful.
Carla is skinny with curly brown hair that is wispy thin. Her brother is fuller and his hair is in thick curls. Carla walked me around her neighborhood, it was like having a tour guide because she knew the history of everything. Carla is studying history and anthropology at a famous school called...Sabrone (I think). She is hard to get to know. her brother is much more friendly and we talked about music, his favorite band is Ramstein. The whole family speaks broken english. They all seem to love art and museums, they just keep telling me museums I have to see.
I was up until late last night, and I didn't wake up until almost noon. Sandro was just coming home for lunch - he gets two hours for lunch, weird eh? I think they need a break from me sometimes because it is a struggle for them to speak to me and I sit back and know no french. Well, I know "je suis fatiguee" and mange (or is it manger?) is to eat and alonz-y is let's go (not the right spelling), oh and preservatif! I want to get my hair cut in Paris but I don't think it is going to happen.
The TV is on and MTV has some stupid show recorded in English and voiced over in French. Stupid. I walked all over and got lost a bit today. Then Sandro took me to Notre Dame and the river. Sandrow as so easy to talk to the first night I met him but now he was nervous and couldn't talk. I think he was starring at my boobs at one point. He kept asking me if I wanted a drink and I kept trying to say "whatever you want" but he didn't understand. So we sat at some bar cafe thing outside and he had a cherry coke and I had a beer. I didn't ask for a beer but that is what i got (in the middle of the afternoon!). It was good, I think it was called picon. I had no trouble drinking it, which is rare for me and beer. The bartender came over and tried asking me something, but Sandro must have told him I didn't know English.
"Ah, American!" the guy said something in french and then pointed at me, like 'tell her'.
Sandro was carrying a dictionary around and starting flipping through it.
The waiter yelled what I think was does anyone speak english?
The guy at the table next to our came over and talked to the bartender and Sandro and then leaned down to me smiling and laughing, and he said "you will like this, very good" and he pointed to my beer. OK....
Anyways Carla and her mother are making dinner and I'm sitting on the couch listening to music. I'm hungry but I have no idea what I will say to the family during dinner.

Leaving London

I am sitting in the Hostel's lounge for the last time; I just checked out and I have to catch my train in an hour. I'm just waiting for my laundry to be done - this girl from my room (Avril) and I are doing our laundry together to save money.
So last night I couldn't sand it any longer. When I get a bit of sex it is like a flip switches and suddenly I am on. I posted a note in Spanish for the Argentine that said if he wanted to talk again I would be in the back lounge after dinner. But I don't think he was interested. Maybe it was because his friends saw it and thought it was funny, or maybe some other reason. At first I was really bummed out and I felt unwanted. But he came onto me the other day - he wanted me obviously. Why let a failed invitation turn the memory sour? I'm actually ok with it now I think. There are more guys in Europe, and from what I can tell many of them find me attractive.
Anyways, I became friends with the girl Avril. We had dinner together and sat at the tables in the garden - the whole time the Argentines kept staring at us and every once in a while they would poke and whisper something to the guy I slept with and they laughed as he turned red, and he just starred at me. After dinner Avril and I sat in the lounge for half an hour (she knew of my encounter with the Argentina man). I didn't want to stay there hoping for him to show up. I turned to her and said "Didn't you say you wanted to go to the pubs?"
So we went to The Blackbird, where I had seen soccer/football boys before. We immediately got hit on by drunk men and I oogled the cute bartender. Then we went for a walk and found a bar that is open for the longest hours - Infinity, the gay bar. We got two pints of cider. They had this TV playing music videos and this drunk man kept coming over to April.
"I'm homosexual, but you look fantastic! If I was straight honey.You made my day! Want a pint? I'll buy you drinks - that is how you repay a lovely lady for her beauty she shares with the world!"
We giggled as he talked. Avril is tall and dark with long legs and curly hair to her chin. She has a wide smile and bright almond eyes. We had so much fun. He kept apologizing to me, he thought she was my girlfriend and that I might be offended that he was eyeing her. It's too bad we didn't go on the weekend - I bet that place is a blast.
We left and got followed by some random drunk guy who wanted us to come home with him. We told him what bar we just came from and he stopped in his tracks.
"...the gay bar?"
and we laughed. He gave us each a cig but we were all too buzzed to use the matches, they just kept going out even as we all huddled together trying to use them as a team. When Avril and I got back we sat on the steps for an hour. Some Japanese guy lit my cigarette for me. We saw the Argentines come home but they didn't say anything. We went to bed around two in the morning. But when I went to look for my vibrator I realized someone had stolen it. Someone had stolen my vibrator!
When I checked out I couldn't think of how to breech the subject but I wanted to mention it, I had just bought it and it was a very nice vibrator. Waterproof too. When the women checked me out she asked how my stay was.
"Nice, I like London. Nice people, lots of trees for a city. But you know, something was stolen from my room - I think it was last night. It is small and white, about this big, round with flat top that had three little bumps on it."
"Well I don't know if anyone found anything, what exactly is it?" her head tilted to the side questioningly.
I leaned in, "It's my vibrator."


As I left I realized someone also stole my ATM card out of my pants pocket while I was sleeping (I slept with them on).
Jesus titty fuckin Christ.

Early

Maria's Birthday. I'll have to call her later.
Ugh, so early. I couldn't sleep all night. I felt like a jerk every time I moved in the bunk bed because the whole thing would creak and sigh as it moved around, I could just feel the hate coming from the other girls in the room (there are eight bunk beds). I'm tired and I don't want to do anything but I don't want to waste my time here. I only have a week in London and the only thing I did yesterday was behind closed doors. I mean, this may be the only time in my life that I'm here and I'm going to hang out in a hostel? Somehow the sleepiness is telling me that it would be far more satisfying to chill here than roam the city getting lost and starring at famous buildings. The only thing I really don't want to miss is the British museum but I still have a few more days. I hope I don't regret it later. I hate when people ask "oh, did you go see this or that?" and I'll be like "no" and then they will explain why I should have seen it and I won't agree but will smile and nod anyways. I predict this in my future.
I'm in the kitchen in the hostel and there is this old guy in his robe with half his stuff hanging out, making something on the stove. His hair is sticking up and he is going bald. Kind of gross, kind of interesting - it is like sitting in the back of some middle aged man's kitchen. Smells that way too.
I have to confess, I am a fool. I am kinda hoping to run into the Argentine again. He won't get up until later (I think), so I guess he'll find me if he wants to. I hope he wants to.

Oh it's too early. Decent people are asleep.

I get laid in London (twice!)

I actually wrote this mostly in Spanish, because that is what I do when I am afraid someone will read my journal (and hey, none of my family can read Spanish). But here it is in English for you.

Last night I went to a Pub to drink some beer, all classic English whatever. I went in and the bartenders were busy because there was some kind of game and alot of drunk guys celebrating the game. I didn't even know what to order, I just was like "uh whatever seems good to you..." which is where bartenders give me the idiot look. The Bar maid was nice about it though and it was pretty good beer, and another bartender was pretty hot but I didn't say a word. I drank and I left. I decided to try another bar with less sports fans and a found one on the corner that seemed nice. It was kind of empty for such a big place. I found out later this is because the English drink early and the bars close early - unlike the US where no one goes out until 9 or 10. But anyways. I am almost alone and I sit at this giant table by myself and drink my beer because I feel super weird and I want to just go back to the hostel and crawl in the covers and never come out.
Then a guy sits at my table. Then a girl and another guy and so on until in ten minutes the table is filled with laughing smiling people who all seem to know each other. One of the guys leans in and asks me what my screen name is. I am looking at him like he is a lunatic. He is medium height, dark hair, pale skin and right away I get the nerd vibe. I can't remember much more than that about how he looks. Turns out this Internet photography group meets here once a year and I happened to sit where they were planning on meeting. The nerds all 'know' each other from on-line but don't really realize I am not one of them, except the guy named Joe who talked to me. Some blond guy grabbed by butt and took some pictures of me and Joe. Joe talked to me all night.
An hour later everyone is clearing out and Joe offers to take me to another bar he thinks stays open a little later. He pays for a tube ride for us and we walk to it. He isn't super cute but he is really nice and super polite. When we get to the bar they are doing last calls and he gets me some hard cider, which I have never had before and I think it is wonderful. He is a pharmacist or something, he also likes Modest Mouse (my favorite band). No idea what else we talked about. He invites me back to his place for some wine.
I know that agreeing to go back is like saying yes I will have sex with you but I tell myself I can still change my mind. Somewhere on the walk he says or I realize that the tube is closed now and I'll have a harder time getting home if I go home before morning. So we get to his house and his roommate has friends over and they are drinking Rum in the living room and we say we will join them but we have water in the kitchen instead. I think he kisses me at this point and asks if I want to come to his room. I pause and look down, biting my lip. He is so nice I practically have to sleep with him. I say alright. We go up to his room.
It was good in the moment. We kind of mess around. It's funny at first because every time he wants to do something he asks permission. Like "would you mind if I put it there?" and if I say yes he says "cheers mate" and if I say no he says "fair enough". So the conversation goes something like:
"Can I kiss you there?"
"...sure"
"Cheers mate"
"would you mind if we..."
"I don't really want to"
"Fair enough, fair enough"
He can't seem to stop touching me. That is the best part - how much he wants me. Even when we agree to go to sleep he keeps spooning me, running his fingers over me, holding my breasts. It seems mildly comforting but I can't sleep. I'm still not on London time. I stay up all night. My head starts thinking too much and by the time I see the sun coming up I can't wait to get as far from there as possible, and take a shower. I don't think he slept much either because he was awake and he tells me he was too drunk to "give me a proper seeing to" the night before so we do it again. As I am getting dressed he caresses each part I am about to cover until I am fully clothed. He was just so sweet to the very end, it was almost sad. I assured him I could find my way back, and I left.
But the nearest tube station wasn't even open yet. So I walked a bunch until I found an open one and I was kind of flustered and creeped out because no one was on the streets and I couldn't figure out the machine to get a ticket. Some Janitor or something came and helped me. I felt horrible about sleeping with him and it felt like everyone knew. I finally got to the hostel and took a long hot shower and then slept, my wet hair dripping on my chest and clothes.
I woke up much later with the sun shining in. I walked half awake to the super market and got some chocolate mouse cake. I was just feeling crappy, like I seem to do after one night stands. I was just beating myself up in my head. Why did I sleep with him? Did I do it just to be polite? I mean, really? Did I have to get wasted every time I wanted sex? Was I desperate or did I just look for my worth in men? Bah. So I ate cake.
While I was eating, that hot Spanish guy was watching me. I laid on the bench outside and he sat at another table, watching me. When I went inside to wash my plate he was sitting in there so I started talking to him. He was from Argentina, he could speak ok English and had a really hot accent. He was giving me the eyes all over the place. After about ten minutes he asks me if I wanted to explore the garden with him (there is like nothing to explore, it's rocks). I said ok. We went outside and tucked behind the corner of the building. He asked where I had been on my trip and I pointed to the map in my journal, showed him where I was going. He pointed where he and his friends were going, all the top places for parties he said, except he didn't know the word for it.
He said something like "my partner and I are going to places for...how do you say it? good times?"
I laughed " your partner?"
"Does this not mean what I think it means?"
"Partner means, like, como novio" and I laughed again.
"oh, no" he smiled and leaned back. He was tall with dark wavy hair and a broad smile, "we are best of friends. I like girls." He smiled and look at me. I felt nervous.
He touched my hand. His hands were big, they swallowed up mine. It was like fire ran all through my body. He did that classic leaning in, "do you have a boyfriend?"
"no."
And then he kissed me. He had these soft full lips and one of his hands ran through my hair, pulling me closer. He had light brown skin and soft brown eyes. We made out on the side of the garden. His hand went up and down me. His other hand ran down my back and I let my hand trail from his neck, chest, torso, groin...
"do you want this?" he asked me in his accented English.
His cock was thick and hard.
"Do you want to come with me, in the showers?" He asks.
I smile and say yes. He holds my hand and we practically skip up towards the stairs. I am on the second floor but he is on the one of the top ones, we seem to go up forever. He meets his friend on the stair way but they speak too fast and I can't understand them. He goes in his room to get a condom and then we duck into the shower. The lights didn't work. The door closed and we were in this warm humid darkness.
He was intoxicating. He guided me without being forceful. He was such a good kisser. He kissed my breasts perfectly, touched all the right places. We couldn't really do it standing up because I am so short and he is so tall. I got on all fours and he was behind me.
"Harder." I said.
"¿Cómo?"
"Con más fuerza!"
He laughed and understood. Then I got on top and he grabbed my hips and said "suave, suuuaaaveeee, mas sueave" and made me go slower and deeper. It was more sensual than anything I have ever done before. He asked if I liked it better hard and I admitted yes and he laughed a little and said "ah, but I can do suave y hard" and he did. He grabbed my hips as we went faster and faster, harder and harder. The whole time he would reach up and touch my breasts and he kept kissing me.
He finished and apologized for it ending. I said something like "it's fine" and kissed him. I got up and we put on our clothes. I felt like every nerve ending was tingling. No O but that is the closet I have ever come with just sex. It was so hot in the shower my clothes stuck to me. He left first, then I left carrying my shoes.
He said something like "see you in the garden" but I'm not sure what he meant by it. I hope we meet up again. Heck, I'd do it in the garden if it's nighttime.
I was sober and it happened so easily. It is odd but for the first time I don't have the instant wave of shame and horrid feelings.Two guys in the same day but completely different feelings. I was praying to god about my sex life like five minutes before I noticed he was looking at me. Timing or what. I got to finish the job with my new little travel vibrator - the Jimmy Pocket Rocket.
Later Alligator.

Oxford Street

I woke up late today, probably because I stayed up past midnight last night drawing (when I looked at the clock my draw dropped). Anyways, I got an all day pass for the underground and went to Oxford Circus. I have no idea why they call it Circus. A circus at home involves clowns and a three ring act, here it is just a train station. One of the guide books said there was a bomb thrift store, the Salvation Army, so I went looking for it. First I found H&M and tried on a bunch of stuff - it was exciting because I have never seen one before, but the Sims game I used to play had it. I got a black skirt with flowers on it and I got a some hair pins with flowers on them. Then I kinda found the Salvation Army, r at least that is what it said on the outside. On the inside was only books and a sign for prayer meetings. So I left. Very quickly.
I still can't believe I am here. I keep reminding myself. It's like when you are high and you can only think in the present. EVerything seems to happen to you, like you're not an active participant. Just there.
I go a free makeover at Clinique. They were having some kind of buy something and get this sale. I found a lovely lipstick and a nice foundation but they didn't have my color which bummed me out. Until I saw all the other makeup vendors and tried the Dior eyeshadow and put my flower pin in my hair and took a picture in the park. I felt very pretty.
I'm amazed at how flat Hyde Park is. Now I understand why they named what must be the only hill. All of London is flat now that I think of it. It is really strange. Imagine San Fran flat! I've been munching on beef jerky and granola bars all day. I should be eating real european food, but what is that anyways. So anyways I cut through the park and they have a little pond thing going on and I took some pictures and sat leaning against a tree in the shade. I was hot, hungry and I wanted to drop off the stuff I bought at the hostel.
I bought a purple summer scarf that had some silver tinsel in it and a hot pink purse, and 15 postcards for 95 pence (like cents). I also got some water and this nasty hot dog - it was crispy on the outside and mushy on the inside - and it was brown, not pink or red. I had like tow bites but couldn't do it and left on a bench. Hopefully some hobo will eat it. So tonight my mission is to go to a pub. I am nervous because I don't know what to do or say. I don't want to sit and get drunk by myself, and I don't want to get too drunk and end up lost or attacked.
I've been noticing that the people here are different, just generally. There are alot more people with red hair, curly hair, blue eyes and big boobs. My boobs don't even seem big here. Also they call kids and young people funny things like "poppet" and "mumsy" and "love". Everyone is shorter too, so I don't seem to small. And of course everyone is thinner than the US. There are also alot of Arab people here; and in H&M there was a girl with a hijib (sp? - the headress thing muslims wear) and it was covered in fake gems. I loved that she was blending the two cultures.
There is a cute guy that speaks Spanish or Italian here. He is hot hot. Maybe I'll go into the lounge and see if anyone is there. There is a lounge with a TV where most people sit and don't talk, and then another one where they read and don't talk. I hope someone wants to hangout.
Everyone I meet asks me where I am from. I say California and they say "Thanks for bringing your weather here!" or they start singing American Woman. In their funny accents. Which is silly. Mostly guys do these corny things. I have a hard time understanding some of the people, with the accents and all. I just go 'what?" and they look at me like I am stupid and repeat themselves and if I still don't get it I smile and walk away.

First Full day by Myself

Last night I took a nap and woke up just as it was getting dark. I sat in the garden to let the cool air wipe away my exhaustion and my sore head. An Australian Lady told me I looked shell shocked. The garden is actually just four picnic tables and a yard of rocks. My cell wouldn't work - so much for a world phone, no reception. Everyone in my room spoke french. I was I had learned it before I came. I'm scared about the whole thing. I just wish I had a person to talk to here.
I had a hard time sleeping. There is a little kitchen to cook in, and then the doors lead to the garden where you can eat. I brought some instant oatmeal with me and I cooked it and talked to the only other people in there. Some Canadian girls were here for school and they are leaving, but they told me it will be 18 degrees C today. So I guess what's warm? I wanted to laugh because 18 degrees in F is like nightmare cold. I started an e-mail list so I can mass e-mail everyone at home. My grandma is so worried about this whole trip, but I think my dad is proud I decided to go even though all my friends bailed out.
I went to the super market but nothing's the same here. They didn't even have Cheerios or instant oatmeal. The milk even comes in pints and smaller (like a quart). Water also comes in giant or tiny. I bought grapes, a giant water and raviolis. I found the super market on accident - I was actually trying to get to the natural history museum. It is pretty hot - I thought London was supposed to be cold all the time? All the buildings I have been in are incredibly stuffy so I try and stay outside.
I got lost coming back from the museum too. All the streets in this area seem to end with garden or gate. When I got back and drew a map in my journal it was easy to see where I went wrong but it is much harder when you're walking around out there. The buildings are tall and a lot of red brick with white brick trims and the streets are narrow. The lights to cross the street are different too.
The museum was big with all these impressive displays but it was way too hot in there. It was the first time I just walked through a museum without reading every bit of writing. At first I went into the physical science section which had only the basics which I knew from all of my college classes. I was driven out of the insect section by the sheer masses of children. The bird section was cool but there wasn't much to read. It kept getting more crowded and I was hot so I slipped into a side room - turns out I had just walked into a lecture about capturing and killing flies in Scotland. Did you know they have over a million bugs in their collection? I started to nod off since my sleeping schedule is all screwed up so I left. I took one look at the long line to get into the dino building and walked out of the museum. THe building is really impressive and long and old looking, like a castle. I wanted to sit in the grass outside but I would probably just fall asleep and wake up at dark.
I packed beef jerky which I snacked on all day instead of eating a proper lunch. The grapes here have no flavor. I guess it was stupid of me to get grapes, seeing as I come from the wine country in California. Londoners must have orgasms when they taste our grapes.
I think I am going to stay in tonight, unless I magically make friends in the next hour who invite me out. I want to go to a pub, maybe I will tomorrow. I am nervous just thinking about it though. I've only been at one bar and it was for like 5 minutes with my best friend who ordered some beer and we shared it and left. Tomorrow is Sunday and I leave Wednesday...wow, this is going to go by fast.