Cod vomit, Tube fit, sight-seeing and other sh*t

2/16/09

probably around 3-something P.M.

THE THIRD DAY.

Nicole is sick. Again. Cassidy and I decide to go sight-seeing, and head out for the Tower of London. I realize my credit card is fucked up and become stressed out. I enjoy the Tower anyway. Cool shit. This is where Henry VIII beheaded his wives! How awesome?! We see the Crown Jewels…um, wow…and The Ravens…and walk around for a few hours. We eat at a diner, and I suck up my nerve and order fish ‘n’ chips. I get about halfway through it and realize that, indeed, I hate it. I want to vomit deep-friend Cod all over everything. I am still stressed out about money, so we head back. It rains on the way home to match my gloomy mood. I call Chase credit cards and realize (I’ve “realized” a lot this day) that I’ve hit my limit. Fuck. I was going to get a tattoo in London on the last day to commemorate the trip. That’s out the window now. No shopping either. No Tate Modern. I am almost out of cash and am worried. I get a 69P (pence – like cents) cider beer and chug my sorrows down. I talk to my friend-with-benefits person back home, and she makes me feel better. I get back to the hostel from the payphone and tell Cass about my woes. She insists that we should still try to get cheap tickets for Wicked. We think of other free or cheap things to do. She proves herself to be a really nice girl.

I tell her that I want to take a photo at the Warwick Avenue tube stop because of the Duffy song that I love. She says that she wants to come with me to get off her ass. We take the tube down, I get a pic, and we walk around a bit. That part of town is so cute. We head back and our train suddenly stops. The lights go off. The conductor announces that someone has had a “fit” and has fallen onto the tracks. What the fuck?! We wait. And wait. And fucking wait…

An hour goes by before it is announced that we must get off and walk the tracks to the next station. We do. It was so weird! I wanted to take a piss, but thought that maybe it was bad timing. They give us water at the end of our journey as a sort of consolation prize. We get on another train. And another. And inevitably have to walk home. Cass almost has a nervous breakdown, and I try to talk her out of it. We finally get home. I shower. I sleep. What an adventure.

That night I dream of a cat eating and shitting out rats and my Grandma having to clean it up. What the fuck is up with that?!

TODAY.

Get up. Eat breakfast. More instant coffee. Nicole gives me the money that she owes me and I rejoice. I feel less stressed out about my depleting financial status. I talk to Simon a bit. That dude is awesome. I take a glorious shit. Then Cass and I go to try and get tickets to Wicked. We take the tube down to the Victoria Apollo Theatre. We stand in line. We miss getting front-row seats by two people. We get great seats for 15 Pounds anyway.

Cass and I walk to Buckingham Palace. It’s cool, I guess. We miss the changing of the guard. I take photos. We walk to Westminster Abbey and Big Ben. Take a photo of Ben at 11:11. We go home for lunch and to get Nicole. We go eat cheap burgers and chips at a place called Mr. Fish. After lunch, Cassidy and I went to Harrod’s. Holy shit, that place is insane. We walk around a little bit and get erections at the sight of all the pretty things. Cass starts to feel achy so we leave.

Now I’m doing this and counting down the moments for Wicked tonight. If only Idina Menzel were here…

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