The 8th marked the day of tours. First, though, a walk with a new friend up to the observatory, which offered a nice view of the city through the tree branches. I enjoyed the sun for as long as it was out (which wasn’t very long).
So I didn’t go to the Rugby game yesterday like I mentioned, but I forgot to say that I didn’t go because traveling to and from the game cost more than the ticket and it wasn’t worth it. Oh well.
Today I got up at 8am to pick up my take-home exam paper, which I researched and wrote until 2. 2-3 I had another internship briefing (useless) and at 3 I walked to the library to finalize my exam papers, print them out, and hand them in to the office. I spent until around 5 reading and gathering my notes for my AH exam tomorrow. Then I went to the hotel and napped with Mom till Dad showed up at 6:15. Because Mom wasn’t feeling well, Dad and I had another pub dinner at Stanhope. I ordered fish & chips and cleaned the plate! We sat around and chatted for a while before heading home so I could study, but that hasn’t happened yet. So far, I’ve only packed a little and spent the rest of the time looking at pictures online. I’m clearly a waste of space. Tomorrow: exam from 9-11am and then picking up the car to go to Yorkshire for the week ❤
Day was filled with book buying and class. Not so long after all. Grocery shopping, Hanging out with Antoine, cooking my curry for dinner, then drinking wine with roommates while getting ready for the party. Going to the party, taking pictures, getting drunk off three pints of Beck’s.
A few of the girls at Longacre, where the party started.
With Dave, our Social Programmes manager. He’s double parking!
Then we wandered off to Verve to get our free admission and shot then headed to O’Neills to dance with very British and German boys, one skinny blonde named Chris who twirled me all night. Good times.
Us closing out the place.
After they spit us out onto the street at 3, we walked around Piccadilly and eventually went home on a double decker. It’s four in the morning and I’m just realizing that I drank with my RA’s, screamed with my week-long friends, and danced with boys I couldn’t understand. Walking around dizzy on Piccadilly is the weirdest experience I’ve had to date. I’m sure it won’t be the last. The British are the best.