Writer's Block

So right now I am experiencing a bit of writer's block. That is to say, I really do have a lot of things to talk about but I am having immense trouble finding a way to organize them into a central theme. Weird thing is, it is very rare that I ever have writer's block, and the feeling makes me extremely uncomfortable. It's like having something to say to someone but having no way of just spewing it out (a feeling I am more than familiar with). Thus, regardless of my writer's block, I must trudge onward in the hope that, in the end, this blog entry will come out as something more than just a timeline of my life's events (maybe I will even be able to sneak an opinion or two in!).

To begin with, I am madly in love with a woman named Emer McParland. She is a mid-thirties big band singer/my Chamber Music in London teacher, and every time that I see her she proves to me her awesomeness. Thursday was the finest example of such behavior. When Rachel was here at the beginning of January she got the chance to go see Billy Elliott, a musical production of a really great movie. She ranted and raved about it, saying that I had to see it. With this, I obsessed over Billy Elliott for the next three months, trying to find ways to get tickets to the completely sold out show. Emer was taking her Music in London class but, as much as I whined and begged, they just didn't have any extra tickets. Then something miraculous happened. Thursday I got off the tube and my phone notified me that I had two missed calls, one from my bassoon teach, which I duely ignored, and one from the IC London Center. Hmmmm, I thought to myself, what could this be about? What did I do? I call the school and mega-bitch Lisa Lessware picks up the phone. I ask if she knew why I was called and she said no, so I asked her if she could find out and she gave me a bunch of attitude. She really is a bitch. Regardless, it had been Heather who had called me and, lo and behold, something had come up in Emer's busy schedule and Heather was offering me her ticket to the show for that night FOR FREE!

It was amazing. I did as much laughing as I did crying, the actors were all brilliant, especially Billy. I don't have any idea how they found so many talented kids, but Jesus Christ they were rediculous. Acting, singing, dancing. These kids were a fucking triple threat. Billy Elliott immediately assumed its position as my favorite musical ever and it is going to be extremely hard to knock it from that position.

The following day was THORPE PARK DAY! Diego, Annie, Ethan, and I went to Thorpe Park, an amusement park right outside of London. Let me preface this by saying that the night before Annie had gotten rediculously drunk, spending a good chunk of the night throwing up, before waking up bright and early to go ride some roller coasters, the ultimate cure for nausea. After bitching, we got her up and onto the tube, and eventually the train to Staines, where the park is located. It was on that train that Annie decided she felt a bit sick again, so she grabs my plastic bag that I had held clementines in and runs a few seats away. No sooner is she gone then we, and the delightfully mortified group of British teenagers sitting across from us, hear the sounds of retching and puke on plastic. Then Annie comes back, but there is no sign of the puke bag, and we know it cannot be in the trash because the IRA blows up all the trashcans. That's right, she had left the bag of vomit underneath the seat, probably as a good-natured gift to the next person fortunate to ride. Ewww.

When we got to the park, it was raining and there was an IT failure, making it impossible to get our tickets. Thus, we waited in line for over an hour just to pick up the tickets we had bought online. By the time we finally get into the park we are drenched. The lines were longer than we expected, and at first it appeared several of the rides were shut down. This, however, did not last. The sun came out, it was a gorgeous day, we rode all the rides we wanted to, and had a great time. It is one ride experience in particular that I wish to talk about.

Rush stands 25 meters tall, and according to the sign on the outside, only had a 40 minute wait. We get in line and behind us are a group of normal british kids in their early teens. About ten minutes into the wait this little pre-pubescent horndog with a husky voice hops the fence to be with his friends, those kids behind us. That was when nice british kids turned to fucking obnoxious british kids. Here's a list of horrible things they did while in line:
1. They couldn't stop talking about things they obviously had no idea about, ie sex, and that kid that had hopped the fence just kept instigating little fights in the group that would lead to pushing and shoving, meaning every two seconds one of the little bastards fell into me.
2. The aforementioned little bastard ripped open his giant stuffed fish, spilling its styrofoam pellet innards all over the queue. What a little fucker. Then when the park woman comes to scold him, he lies and says that it ripped. Yeah, it ripped...when he fucking pulled it apart.
3. Finally, the same kid coerced this girl into grabbing my ass. I kept hearing them say, "Do it, do it," so I figured that something was up. Annie gave it away with her giggling, and right as I turn around one of the girls, using her thumb, fore and middle fingers, grabs my ass. Even after this I continue my policy of ignoring them and I hear her say, "It was good, but I've felt better." These kids couldn't have been more than 14. I wanted to whip around a say, in my sexiest yet still most condescending voice, "I know, being the little whore you are, that you probably have felt your fair share of asses, but I know this much to be true. You have never felt one better than this!" That, however, would not have gone with my policy of ignoring them.
This whole situation was made worse by that fact that the ride kept breaking down, making the eventual wait time 1 1/2 hours....of dealing with those little fuckers.

All in all, the day at the park was amazing and the second I got home I crashed and burned, waking up the next day a bit sick, once again. That sickness that started about a month ago has never really gone away. I'm sure it has something to do with not really taking care of my body, but whatever.

Today is Easter and, as such, we died easter eggs last night. That was really the extend of Easter cheer this year, although, as some of you know, I am very in to my holiday traditions, all except for Christmas, really, a holiday I sort of despise. Regardless, happy Easter to all! Oh, and on a sad note, I return to the US a month from today. I am not one for imodicons, but :(