HOME.

Yes, lovely readers, I am back in the wonderful land of Bassaleg, and the sun is shining.
After two wonderful (and slightly stressful) days back in Ottawa spent with three amazing Canadians (<3), I hopped on a plane with way too much hand luggage and a seriously overweight suitcase. Apparently looking dishevelled, tired, and on the verge of crying makes airport staff pity you and not make you pay for things.
On the plane they gave us dinner at, like, midnight, which displeased me, but never mind. I watched Lady and the Tramp, so all was well. I then got off the plane, and onto a bus. I then got off the bus, and found out that my train was cancelled (Boooo) but got on the next train. I then arrived in sunny Newport and, as you would expect, went stright home. Oh, no, wait, I actually went to a cello recital. My sister's to be precise. We only just made it. And then we went for dinner. Given that I'd probably had about 8 hours of sleep over the last 3 nights combined, I was amazed that I could actually function as a human being. But Rachel's recital was amazing, and she is the most bootiful cellist in the world, as far as I'm concerned.
But yes, I finally made it home, and collapsed in a heap. And had 15 hours of sleep. Life is good.
I promise to update you soon on my travels and show you pictures and such, but for now I have about 3 weeks of tv to catch up on, so blogging will have to wait.

Boston.

Howdy.

I'm in Boston. It's pretty.

I went to New York. It was big and I'm not sure my brain could quite comprehend it so I seemed to just spend a lot of time wandering around aimlessly/reading on the subway/sleeping. But it was nice. I saw Rent. Twice. It blew my mind. AND I went to the Life Cafe. Not the one in alphabet city, as that has closed down :( But one in Brooklyn that's owned by the same people. It made me happy. I also spent a lot of time getting irrationally annoyed at tourists. Figure that one out.

So yeah, last night I got on a bus and came to Boston. The bus broke down. Ordinarily, this would be a pain in the arse, but we got to stay on the bus while we waited for another one, so it just meant that I managed to get something that vaguely resembled sleep, rather than arriving in Boston at 4am with nothing to do.

So, yeah, I'm alive and stuff. And, just in case you needed reminding, I will be back in Britain in a mere five days. I expect national celebrations and lavish gifts. Or, y'know, some sleep and a few hugs'll do. 

California.

'Sup.
I'm in California.
After a 5-hour bus, a dodgy trip on the subway to Queens at midnight on a Saturday night, a 5-hour wait at an airport, and two flights, I made it to San Francisco.
And now, I know that I should probably do something productive, but I'm tired and my brain hurts.
Also, I'm spectacularly sunburnt. Sunburn has this habit of creeping up on me, so I don't notice that I'm getting sunburnt until about 3 days after I go out in the sun. And the really sad thing is that, unlike most people, this will not eventually become a lovely tan. No. I just go from tomato-red back to too-white-even-for-Hitler, without any apparent transition phase. Clearly I'm at a point in my blog where I think Hitler jokes are appropriate. We can only go uphill from here. Actually, on the subject of Hitler jokes (stay with me), I went to the American History Museum yesterday, and actually saw some teenagers making the "Heil" gesture in front of a picture of Hitler, while their friend took a picture. No, really. They actually were. I almost told them off, but then I remembered that 19-year-olds with crazy humidity-hair and sunburn don't really have that much authority or credibility in the eyes of 15-year-olds.
I suppose I probably should go and do something. At the very least, I should eat. The hostel I'm staying at is close to lots of expensive shops, which will only end badly, but is also a mere three blocks away from The Cheesecake Factory, which basically means that I will be eating cheesecake three times a day for the next 4 days.
But yes, I'm alive, I'm in San Francisco, and my skin is currently resembling the japanese flag. Splendid.

USA.

Guess what. I'm in America. Like, actually in America, not just an airport. It's pretty exciting.
I knew that I was in America as soon as we reached our first post-border bus stop, Buffalo, because a guy got on the bus and, among other hilariously enthusiastic things, said the words "Can I get an AMEN?" and someone actually gave him one. It was a special moment in my life.
I got spectacularly lost in DC when I arrived, and I mean spectacularly. I was supposed to head northwest and I ended up going southeast. Fail. And it was ridiculously humid and I was wearing a hoody. Extra fail.
Since finding the hostel, however, I have engaged in such typical American pastimes as drinking Starbucks and buying Ben & Jerry's. Since I am in a country where Ben & Jerry's is cheaper and comes in far more varieties than in Britain or Canada (although, "Oh Cone-ada" will forever live in my heart), I feel obliged to try at least one new flavour per city. DC's flavour is Cake Batter. This can only end well.
Not much more to say. I had a lovely few days in Kingston with Joanna and her family/friends/dog, although I did have to resist yelling "STELLAAAAAAAAH" in a drunken, lustful, Streetcar-esque manner everytime I called the dog.
I'd also like to take a moment to express my love for the Divertimento orchestra and its members. The final concerts were wonderful and I shall miss them dearly.
Tomorrow I'm going museum-hopping, because free museums are good museums. Will probs go and see my homeboy Barrack at some point. Please casually ignore the fact that I just used the word "homeboy".
The only other news is that I missed seeing the Queen in Exeter today, but, y'know, I'll get over it. I'll buy myself an "I <3 Obama" tshirt and pretend to be a royalty-hating American.