So, here's what happened: on July 3rd, I hired a car in Brooklyn to take me to the airport in Newark. There, I boarded an airplane and departed the North American continent for the forseeable future. At this point, I am homeless, unemployed and living out of a suitcase in England, and for the record, it is totally awesome... minus an explosion or two in London.
Since I've been in England, I have been experiencing the most incredibly generous hospitality from the dearest people ever. First, I stayed with Greg, whom many of you know from Hollywood, but for those who don't, suffice it to say that he is positively dreamy. Greg's flat in London is lovely, and was an absolute haven to me for several days, and Greg's generosity and kindness will be rewarded in heaven, without a doubt.
I polished off part 1 of my visit to London with an episode of drinking far too much after my long hiatus from booze since I last saw one of the dearest creatures of my entire acquaintance: dear Matthew, from Prague, along with his friend Ketan. After an all-nighter of dancing and stumbling up a frightening, red staircase, we caught an early morning bus to Oxford, got a few hours' sleep, and then I was treated to more unbelievably kind hospitality from Ketan, who made Matty and I a lovely breakfast and walked us around Oxford to see the spectacular lawns of the Colleges. What a dear.
From Oxford, I boarded the coach for London, where I caught another, this time, bound for Bournemouth, on the southern coast, and the home of International Super Genius, Nathan Johnson. Upon arrival, I was given the choice of hanging out at Nath's to see if there was anything good on TV, or heading out to an all-night beach party. I chose to party, obviously. Duh! For those of you who are lucky enough to know Nathan, please know that here in Bournemouth, he has been leading the most miserable life possible, with a terrible flat, awful, revolting friends, a slavish job, and worst of all, he isn't in the slightest bit AWESOME, or anything.
MAN, it has to suck to be Nathan.
Just for an example, last night we went over to Nathan's friends' flat where a meal of mussels in white wine and cream sauce and a gorgeous variety of homemade pizzas and bread had been prepared. From there, we all went out to a park overlooking the seaside, drank wine and listened to Nathan and his horrid friend Chris play guitar and sing us songs.
There are loads more pictures on my Flickr, but I have to go have more fun now, so I can't be bothered to link them all here. As this blog's only recent topic, Trent Reznor, might say: "Help me, I am in Hell."