Staying put

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I feel...strange. I'm not...moving. I'm not in a different town every day living out of my larva shaped backpack. I'm not stealing individually portioned jams to eat with my baguette later on. I'm...still.

I arrived in Chambery on Sunday night, after another disasterous EZ Jet flight. And after telling the man who manages the student apartments that I am more comfortable with English for important information, he proceeds to speak to me in French the whole time. Thanks bub. If I blow up your building because I don't know how to properly operate the oven, blame it on yourself. I've had very little time to explore the town, mostly because I have been catching up on sleep, eating hob-nobs, and watching the only English channel I get: CNN Asia. If anyone has questions about AirFrance flight 447 or GM declaring bankruptcy, I'm your gal.

My rather long absence from this journal was due to the gigantic eat-drink-and-be-merry-fest that took place in the UK last week. I ate things in Scotland that I never thought I would consume. See: haggis. See also: deep fried mars bar. London was different, but only because I was eating and drinking even more. Beer o'clock was any o'clock. Fish and chips were always good idea, as were hob-nobs and wine gums. I specifically remember the alarm going off one morning and after turning it off, I reached for the wine gums right next to it to get my morning fix. I was a woman possessed.

But the REAL reason for my UK sojourn was the wedding of my oldest and dearest friend in the world, Miss Molly Doyle. The same girl I grew up with, played heart and soul on the piano with, acted with, raised hell with...she's a married woman! The party was beautiful, low key, and even had karaoke, which more and more people signed up for as the night wore on. All in all, a decadent, fabulous, extraordinary weekend. Weddings rule.

Next up: there is no next up! I'm here for 3 months!

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