here is london...

it's 23:37 and i'm sitting in my hotel in london, having just woken up [awesome.. my internal clock won't be too fucked up]. i slept through the sisters of mercy, but i blame that on the fact that i got to the hotel at 9:30 this morning [after a six hour flight, and an hour and a half waiting in line at customs], only to be told that i couldn't check in until 1:30 in the afternoon... what choice did i have but to go shopping?? i found the jeans i've been looking for for weeks; i didn't know they even existed outside of my head, but evidently they've been at topshop all this time.. who knew? [well.. i had a hunch.] something will have to be done about all the shit i've brought with me ... i thought i was doing so well, packing everything into the medium-sized ben sherman duffel bag [incidentally, that bag is one of the best bargains i ever got; $12.99 at tj maxx because some douchebag spilled a bottle of juice in it and then returned it; i threw it in the wash as soon as i got it home, and it came out looking as good as new] ... anyway, everything fits, but it's heavy as fuck, and there is no way in hell i'm gonna be able to lug it around with me for the next 18 days. after that i'll be in the dorm, so it's not an issue, but in the meantime, i think i would be wise to find a luggage storage facility and drop off about half of everything i have.. otherwise, i foresee big problems along the lines of "i don't fucking care if i have tickets and a reservation, i'm not dragging all this shit to another fucking train station!"

it's so weird to be back here after three years ... so much has changed, but so much hasn't, and i'm surprised how comfortable and familiar everything still seems. there's always been something about this place ... i loved it from the first time i visited, in 1999.. then, in 2003, it took on a whole new significance; it was all ours, if only for a few weeks.. and now, here i am by myself, sitting in this tiny hotel room behind the gloucester road tube station, eating potato crisps and a baguette.. and i'm fine, happy, excited, etc. to be here.. but right now, it's not any one person in particular that i miss; i just miss "home".. my kitchen; my bathroom; my washer/dryer.... having all my stuff in one place... ordering food on the internet... cold cans of coke in the fridge.. and it's occurring to me that no matter who comes to visit, or when, it's going to be a long time before i get back to all that, and that's the hardest thing of all.. as much as i may like to pretend otherwise from time to time, when it comes down to it, i'm not a traveler. i don't like the unknown or the unexpected; i don't like being 'on the go' .. i do like new places and cultures and people.. but i hate packing, hate sleeping on other people's sheets, hate being on other people's schedules, hate trying to find something cheap and halfway decent to eat that doesn't have to be cooked or prepared, hate not having my own space, hate not seeing the cutes... i guess i just kind of hate not being at home.