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.