London, II

I should really type this up and post it before having a good night’s sleep. Otherwise, it might retain some sense of normalcy which doesn’t quite grasp my feelings throughout the day. Oh, it was a fine day, but all this happens after the nasty jetlag with three-ish hours of sleep, so I wasn’t feeling terribly normal today.

I forgot to mention it was sunny all day. I hear that’s quite unusual.

I’ve never been to Mardi Gras. My grandparents have, though. I’ve seen the pictures and I’ve heard the tales. I don’t think I’m old enough to go. In fact, I think they might have been too old to go. Regardless, I hear Mardi Gras involves copious amounts of alcohol, probably lots of drugs, and skimpily-dressed girls. If you subtract the- well, the drugs are probably still part of it. Come to think of it, there was no lack of girls wearing short skirts, revealing blouses, or tight dresses either. Really, both are festering drunken orgies of debauchery.

I am talking about St. Patrick’s Day, of course.

Well, maybe the ‘of course’ has no place whatsoever in that sentence, if you’re from East Tennessee like me and are nearly 18 like me. I had no idea St. Patrick’s was such an alcoholic holiday. I know the stereotypes about the Irish and their drink, but apparently that applies to all of London this holiday.

Their is some beautiful architecture here. It reminds me of D.C.

I was hoping to type up some more, but I’m much too tired for that.