I'm back in NL. London was awesome...it's one of those cities that you don't fall in love with immediately, but grow to like more and more each day until leaving becomes a serious drag. Bath was incredibly beautiful. I wish I'd gotten to spend a bit more time there.
A brief rundown: I got to see three plays, gorged myself on free museums, roamed churches and ruins, wandered for ages, laughed until I cried with good friends. I don't know if it's just the warm fuzzy feeling I got by being surrounded by English for the first time since January, but life just felt so much easier there, so much more civilized, more beautiful and less practical. I am so ready to go home. So, so, so, SO ready.
P.S. As for the title: so apparently I have some quality that screams OH MY GOD PAT HER DOWN SEVERAL TIMES AND QUESTION HER ABOUT HER MOTIVES BECAUSE SHE'S AN EVIL VICIOUS TERRORIST. This has happened at least once every time I've flown in Europe. So I'm standing in the Stansted airport at five this morning, having just completed 24 hours without sleep, and I make the bleary-eyed mistake of telling said security officer that oh no, I don't have any special plans in traveling, I'm just heading home to the Netherlands.
Oh WAIT. HOME?! Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.
She raises an eyebrow. "You don't SEEM like you're from the Netherlands." Long shifty glare. "Can you step to the side for a moment?"
So, just to throw this out there: I'm not a terrorist. Seriously. The rumors are false.
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