So I'm in London. I'm in the country that my country fought for it's independence from and declared it on this day and I'm homesick.

There's a small picnic in one of the parks in town (there are an oddly large number of parks in this city, it's very green here) for Americans. Naturally there's an entry charge (...well I shouldn't say that, a lot of things here are free) but I'd like to try and feel at home. I don't think there will be fireworks, which I miss the most, but if I can get some decent American food, or at least festival-like food, I should be okay.

So far so good, I'm a month in to my two-month excursion. I met David Tennant and Catherine Tate yesterday. I went to Ireland. I'm going to Stonehenge soon (when I can find a tour for it, I got kicked off the BUNAC one because it was too full). I'm going to Paris at the end of the month before I come home. I'm just nostalgic and homesick right now because it's a family/friends kind of holiday and I admittedly have made no friends in the month I've been here. I can talk to my boss okay, and I'm existing with my roommate just fine, but me being the naturally hard-to-know, introverted, shy person that I am, I haven't actually met anyone that I'm like "WOO BEST FRIENDS FOREVER"

The work is fine, if annoyingly slow because my internet is balls. I'm finding fun souvenirs for people; I'm good at finding presents that suit each person I'm getting them for. (there is one that I wish I could have gotten something else, but this is just as good and will probably be used more) I'm trying to limit just how many presents I'm getting, but there are really only a select few that I'm like "Yes this person needs this present".

I've gotten to that point of loneliness though, where every time someone's like "OMG SO JEALOUS" or whatever, I'm reading "Yeah by the way I actually really hate you. Legitimately hate." Even from my mom; she didn't really respond to any e-mails I sent while I was in Ireland (we're about half-Irish; my great-gran was full-blooded, and there's enough Irish in the spouses that keep us to that much) and I know she was pretty jealous that I got to go before her. A conversation we had before I left (while I was crying my eyes out from being scared (I hate airplanes)) did less to make me feel better about getting the experience than it drove home the point that my parents are mad that I get to do something they've never gotten to do and made me feel worse about it.

Yeah. I know I'm fucked up. I just hate it when everyone tells me how lucky I am and how jealous they are that I get to do this... yeah, well, I had to work my ass off to get it, and I'm still getting guilted left and right about it. I'm an easy person to guilt into doing things, just ask my ex. =/

Bleh. Emo post is emo. Getting out of the flat tomorrow should do me good again; the Pride London fest was fun yesterday and it got my mind off of being home.