Coming home has been both completely bizarre and completely normal all at the same time. I have to admit that seeing the Boston skyline for the first time in almost 5 months essentially brought tears to my eyes. It could have been out of the delusion of a 7-hour plane ride, not to mention having no grasp of what time it was or should feel like when I landed, but to put it simply, I couldn’t have been happier to be home.

But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Leaving London was not exactly a fun thing. During my 26 pound cab ride to Heathrow (a total deal, might I add), I couldn’t help but look around me and think, “This is the last time I’m going to be here.”

Leaving Pembridge and Notting Hill in general was a little bittersweet. As I mentioned in my previous posts, at this point the house was pretty empty and overall kinda depressing to be in. Having witnessed what it was like to have to say goodbye to everybody one by one, a part of me didn’t envy my housemates who left earlier than I did. I left Pembridge knowing that there really wasn’t much left for me there.

With that said, however, it was a little sad not having a group of people to “send me off.” In all honesty, leaving London was anti-climactic. For a variety of reasons, both good and bad, it was time for me to come home.

It took a few days for me to adjust, both to the time change and to the feeling of waking up in my own bed again, but after a short while, being home was just that: being home.

Throughout my remaining weeks in London, I was faced with the overwhelming worry that I would instantly be homesick for London when I got back to the states. The thought of sitting in my living room alone, compeltely jet-lagged in the middle of the afternoon and simply not knowing what what to do next, was something I dreaded. And although the thought was a pessmistic one, I was pleasantly surprised when I never actually got to experience this feeling. For some reason, which I’m still not quite sure of, my heart did not long for London as much as I was anticipating.

Sure, I missed my friends, I missed living on my own, I missed being able to walk down my street, hop on the tube or a bus and have the whole world at my disposal, but I wasn’t all that sad about it. Leaving London wasn’t a bad thing, I realized, but it was the right thing for me at this point in time.

So now, just about a month later, as I settle into the routine of my office internship and to the familiar pattern of figuring out whose house we’re going to hang out at tonight, what movie we’re going to watch, or, if we’re feeling ambitious, where we’re going to go or what we’re going to do, I can’t help but feel a little tingle in my heart every so often. It’s only a slight murmur, or sometimes even a pain, but the fact that it’s there is significant. It’s telling me that maybe, just maybe, I’m starting to miss London.

This sudden realization encouraged me to express my feelings in the typical fashion for 2010: update my Facebook status. “Kinda wishing I were sitting in Pembridge watching Miami Ink right now,” I wrote the other morning while sitting in my cubicle at work (shhh! don’t tell anyone!). Within seconds, minutes, hours, etc., a whole slew of my Pembridge homies either “liked” or commented on my status. I may not have spoken with some of them since London, but that little bit of feedback assured me of something I had known for months: We have all been connected by this experience in such an incredibly strong and profound way.

I know that sounds totally new-agey and lame, but as corny as it is to say this, that feeling is what I truly believe the study abroad experience is all about. Yeah, after a month of being home it sometimes feels like my entire time in London was just a dream, but it’s the connections I have with the people I met there that reassure me that this really was the best experience I have ever had in my life.

So London, thanks for everything. Really, you’re the coolest. And to everyone who made my experience there so amazing, some of our paths have already crossed again and others I am positive will in the very near future.

I love you all! Pembridge 4 LYFE <3

Looking ahead at the rest of my time here and thinking about everything that needs to get done, that period of time seems like forever, especially when you consider the fact that I’m one of the last ones to leave. But when you actually write it out or say it outloud: TWO. WEEKS. Well, that makes it sound real. Real short.

The past two weeks were filled with studying and stressing about finals. So just be glad I’ve been slacking on this blog because you definitely didn’t want to read about that.

I will say this about finals though, UCL: What is WRONG with you?! Honestly, your testing system has to be the most counterintuitive thing I’ve heard of. Talk about promoting fear.

In all honesty, it really makes me appreciate Conn and its exams about a hundred thousand times more. Seriously, self scheduled finals are a blessing. The Honor Code: APPRECIATE IT!

So now, with two out of three finals under my belt and about a week of freedom left before I have to start studying again, I’m left with this weird mix of emotions and an overall sense of not knowing what to do with myself. A good amount of people will be leaving at the end of this week, and even though I love everyone who will be left, none of us can really deny the imminent gloominess that will be taking over the house. As much as I want to enjoy my last two weeks in London, I feel as though all of this is simply preparation for coming home. And as much as I don’t want to leave London, or this house, or these people, I really think I’m just about ready to come home.

There’s only so long you can stretch an experience like this out, and I think I’m at the point where if I pull any longer, something’s gonna snap!

So London, it’s been real and I love you to death, but I’m thinking we may need to take a break.

With that said, these next two weeks? After I’m done, they won’t know what hit them.

So yeah, volcanoes! Being stranded in Europe! Where do I even begin?

The week started in Rome, an experience which can be summed up with a 6th grade Social Studies course. But no, it was really cool to see all the things I had learned about for years. There’s just so much history there, it’s incomprehensible.

The three days we were in Rome seemed to go smoothly. It was not until one lost pair of glasses and one stolen iPhone later that things started to a get a little more interesting…

Yet somehow we managed to make it to Florence. Our hotel was quite possibly the nicest place I have ever stayed. We even had our own private elevator entrance because everyone knows that when the Glass family is in town, we mean business.

The rest of Florence was very cute and very Italian.

Now, while we were in Florence it was around the same time all this volcano business started  happening. At this point, our flight was still days away so we joked about not being able to get home, but my psychic senses were tingling…something wasn’t right!

If my gut feeling hadn’t been enough to convince me, the next day at the train station was like one big RED FLAG.

Keep in mind, we had just been there the day before and the station was practically abandoned. But now, there was a line winding around the entire entrance of the station, hundreds of people long, all from different parts of the world and all with a different story of how they were planning on trying to make it home. Aside from the fact that waiting was quite the tedious process, it certainly was an entertaining and eventful one.

After about an hour and a half, we were finally able to get tickets from one of the self service machines. The one downside was that we wouldn’t be arriving in Venice until 3 hours after the time we had originally planned to. And once we got to Venice it was raining. Great.

The next day in Venice, however, was quite lovely. Venice has always been my #1 travel destination for as long as I can remember, and it really was unreal being there.

Despite the overall loveliness of our day in Venice, the day was also one of uncertainty, as we still had not heard whether or not our flight was still on. Later that day, however, we checked the British Airways website, and our hearts dropped. All flights canceled. No way out of Venice and no way back to London.

To make a long story short, I was not so happy about this news. Our flight wasn’t going to be rescheduled until Saturday, a whole week away. And while Venice was basically the most amazing place on earth, there was no way we were going to stay there another week.

Scrambling to find an alternative method to get me back to London and my parents back to Boston, the best we were able to do was to book a Eurostar from Paris to London that upcoming Friday, which seemed like years away. But considering we still hadn’t figured out a way to get to Paris, we figured we could use all the time we could get.

The world works in mysterious ways, however, and in the midst of all this craziness, I found out that a group of people from my house just happened to be in Venice that night. It was such a relief to see some familiar faces and take a break from the uncertainty of the next week, even just for a night. Oh the power of Pembridge! Keeping me going when things get tough!

Anyway, the next day my parents paid a long and stressful visit to this little tourist window and were able to get us booked on a series of trains leading to Paris. The first stop, Milan:

Since we were there less than 24 hours, Milan to me was basically this church and a horrible night in the sketchiest hotel known to man.

Thankfully, the next day were off to Nice in the French Riviera! It was Arrivederci Italy and Bonjour France!

Nice was absolutely beautiful and wonderful (not making jokes about it being “nice”), and considering I was completely sick of Italian food at this point, I was thrilled to be allowed the opportunity to have a baguette and some brie.

Our stay here was cut short, however, since we had a 6-hour train ride to Paris the next day. Despite the length of the journey, it was actually really enjoyable and scenic. But by the time it was over, I never thought I would be so happy to be back in Paris again.

Since it was only Wednesday afternoon at this point, we still had a night and a full day to spend in Paris. A big shout-out to the lovely Pamela who was so kind to meet my parents and I for a last minute dinner! It’s so nice having friends all around Europe!

The next day was spent sleeping late for once and doing some Paris shopping and all the touristy things I did in February, except this time it wasn’t freezing and covered in snow.

The next morning, we awoke at 4:30 am to embark on the last leg of our journey back to London. For any of you who have taken the Eurostar, you know that you have to go through customs before you get on the train. Well, due to the stupidity of British immigration officers, yours truly was almost not let back into the country. I had to be “held” for at least 20 minutes because the entire time, the immigration officers were reading the dates incorrectly on the letter that says I’m studying in the UK. To them, the dates 1/3/10 to 6/12/10 reads March 1 to December 6 and not January 3 to June 12, which actually makes sense. It was probably one of the most frustrating situations of my life, as we were just minutes away from missing our train. I mean, seriously, British customs? This is what you’re concerned about?!?! You hold an innocent student like me for almost a half an hour while terrorists roam free?! Okay, not really, but what idiots.

Anyway, we eventually made it back to London (1/2 an hour late, because of a medical emergency on the train), and I had never been happier to be back in England. I missed this place– I missed the crazy accents and using pounds instead of euros. I was finally home!

So basically, moral of the story is despite all the mishaps we ran into along the way, the whole process really was a learning experience. I know everyone read about what was going on in the papers or watched it on the news, but unless you were actually experiencing it, you have no idea just how chaotic things were over there. Despite our own misfortunes, there were a million people out there in far worse situations than us, which is definitely something to think about.

Long story short, I don’t think I will be traveling again for a while, aside from when I return home in about a month. I saw what I needed to see from Europe and hey, I got to be a part of history! So I guess that’s something in itself.

As I sit in the lounge right now, obviously avoiding writing my paper, I can’t help but notice how solemn things are in 21 Pembridge right now. A good amount of people are traveling, some are packing up and getting ready to head home, and some have already left for good. I also can’t help but think about the fact that I’m still going to be here for almost another 2 months.

I definitely don’t want to leave London and this house anytime soon, but this last leg of my study abroad experience is for sure going to be weird.

But let’s not be negative! There is still so much to look forward to and I plan on taking advantage of every minute of it.

And with that, here are some of the highlights from my weekend adventures, both in the house and out in the city.

I finally made it to Buckingham Palace:

St. James Park is lovely as well:

Celebrating my first Easter at Pembridge was pretty awesome. We did the typical American thing and BBQed in the backyard, as well as had an Easter Egg hunt (I only got one egg…) and played Easter Trivia. Since I obviously know nothing about Easter, I didn’t play but instead got to act as Vanna White. I did, however, know that the  concept of the Easter Bunny originated in Germany. Thanks, Supernatural in American Pop Culture class!

All in all, I think it was the most consecutive days of fun I have had since I’ve been here. I will definitely miss my Pembridge family.

Anyway, I probably won’t be updating again until I’m back from Italy next week (SOOO excited!) so I’ll catch you guys later!

The trip started on a Monday. To recall the events of this fateful day would probably make me cry so I will spare you. All I’ll say is it was quite possibly the worst transportation experience I have ever had in my life. Murphy’s Law up the wazoo! I’m shocked we even made it to Barcelona, let alone to the hostel, which we didn’t arrive at until 12:30 am.

But when things get you down, as I learned from my trip to Dublin, and from the band 311, you just gotta say to yourself, “Everything’s…gonna be alright!” (That was from “I’ll be here awhile,” for those of you who didn’t pick up on that overly general lyric).

The next day was 100 times better and beautiful. We figured we deserved to sleep in a little after the horrendous night we had, so we woke up and had a late breakfast/lunch of brie and bread on a park bench. Classy. Got some tea in a cafe before heading off to Parc Guell, a.k.a. The Most Beautiful Place on Earth:

We spent a few hours there and couldn’t bring ourselves to leave. We had a casual night back at the hostel, which had a lovely terrace to sit out on.

The next day we hopped on the Bus Turistic which conveniently took us all around the city and down the coast. Here are some highlights:

After we were sufficiently sunburnt, we returned to Placa Catalunya and had tapas and cafe con hielo outside which marked my first iced coffee of the season! Sorry Dunkin, you’ll have to wait until I get home.

The thing I liked most about Barcelona was how well it can pull off having all these insanely colorful and intricate sculptures and buildings all over the city. Everything is so different yet somehow, it works. It’s refreshing to see a city with such life to it!

That night we had a late dinner at the hostel while watching the Barcelona vs. Arsenal football game. I was secretly rooting for Arsenal but the game ended in a tie which I thought was symbolic of my love for London and my newfound appreciation for Barcelona.

The next day we decided to get to the airport super early to avoid any mishaps. All in all, everything worked out and I had a smooth trip back to London.

Just to give you a taste of how insane it was traveling from London to Barcelona, let me list for you all the forms of transportation I had to take to get everywhere:

Monday:

Tube from Notting Hill Gate to Liverpool St.

Train from Liverpool St. to Stansted Airport

Plane from Stansted to Girona Airport

Bus from Girona to Estación Nord Barcelona

Metro from Estacíon Nord to the hostel

Cab from Estacíon Nord to the hostel

Thursday:

Cab from hostel to Estacíon Nord

Bus from Estacíon Nord to Girona Airport

Plane from Girona to Gatwick Airport

Train from Gatwick to Victoria Station

Tube from Victoria to Oxford Circus

Tube from Oxford Circus to Notting Hill Gate

Ay dios mio! It took forever but at least I made it back. This next week back should both be fun-filled and sad, as it is the last week for a lot of people at the house. It’s such a weird feeling knowing that they will be gone and I will still be here for another 2 months. But, there are only good things to look forward to and I’m so excited for all the adventures that lie ahead of me!

I know I shouldn’t get ahead of myself here, but that is exactly what I am going to do.

With a single week of classes left to go, I can’t help but think about my remaining weeks here in London. Soon enough, many of the people I live with will be leaving; some going home and others going their separate ways as we all embark on our world travels. And now that I actually know my finals schedule, have a plan for the summer, and need to change my flight home pretty soon, the reality of going home is starting to sink in.

When I first decided on going to London, I was most put off by the length of the program. Early January to mid- June?!?! It seemed like an eternity. I knew it was going to be a great experience but I always imagined myself counting down the never-ending months until I was back to what I’ve always considered home.

But three months in, I’ve gone through the fun and exciting period, when everything is fresh and new, I’ve gone through the end of the honeymoon period, when routines and schedules start to take their places and the occasional boredom sets in, and now, I’m just settled.

Yikes, that sounds like such a bad thing. But honestly, it suits me.

Let me explain. I think there’s this notion with studying abroad that every second of one’s experience needs to be filled with world exploration and experiencing everything that every place has to offer. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard someone say, “When else are you going to get the chance to [fill in the blank].”

And yes, while it’s certainly true that this is the time to do it all, what I’ve come to find is that lifestyle doesn’t really fit mine, and it’s not what I consider my time abroad to be about.

The way I look at it is like London is one big puzzle. As the months go by, I get closer and closer to fitting into it. I’m finally at this point where I can say to myself, I live in London, and it doesn’t feel fake. The thing is, that feeling doesn’t come from traveling to every little corner of the city and experiencing everything. In fact, there is still an insane amount of places I haven’t been and things I haven’t seen. In the beginning of my time here, trying to squeeze everything in was my top priority. But now, it doesn’t really bother me. I’m here and that’s all that matters.

So London, when the times comes to leave you, I might just refuse to let you go…

On Friday morning we embarked crazy early on a bunch of coach buses and made our way north on what was supposed to be a 5-6 hour ride. First off, we hit a bunch of traffic on the way out of London and then obviously once reaching Wales, our driver got lost. All in all, it took almost 8 hours to get there.

Despite what everyone else may tell you, I actually enjoyed the ride. We got to watch movies and look out the window at sheep and ponies. What more could you ask for?

Friday night was rather overwhelming, what with dealing with a combination of exhaustion, hunger, and annoyance at the screwed up room assignments. However, the hotel was surprisingly nice. That night we had a pub quiz that made me feel like I was back at the Halfway Cafe.

Saturday we woke up super early once again, had a lovely continental breakfast, and then headed out to do our various activities for the day. My first activity was kayaking and I was pretty pumped about that. I apologize for the lack of pictures but I couldn’t exactly take my camera out on the water. I’ll just try to describe the experience with words…

Basically, it was probably one of the most beautiful and most amazing things I have done since I have been abroad. The area of Wales we were in was called Snowdonia and it’s all mountainous. We kayaked in this lake in between the mountains and it was just absolutely breathtaking. We mostly just drifted around the water but also played some games that all resulted with me getting totally drenched. At least I wasn’t the one who fell in…

Next I had go-karting. There was a group of 10 of us and we hopped on a bus and were dropped off in probably the most random area ever. I mean, where else would you put a professional go-kart race track?

We all raced each other for the fastest lap time, and I obviously didn’t win because I didn’t take it nearly as seriously as some of the other people (*cough*the boys*cough*), but it was still a ton of fun. Nice to be back behind the wheel again!

So while Saturday was spent in the mountains, Sunday was spent at the beach! We took a little trip to this town called Llandudno which they told us was supposed to resemble the California coast. It did:

All in all, Sunday was a very relaxing day and a great way to end the trip. Good times bonding with new and exciting people, as well!

The ride back to good old Notting Hill was not nearly as long, plus we got to watch one of my favorite movies, “Best in Show.” Good deal.

Even though I was absolutely exhausted upon my return to Pembridge Gardens, the night did not end there. Not in the least bit! First off, we had to go celebrate one of my housemate’s 21st birthday. Then, of course, it was Oscar night and for some reason I ended up staying up until 5 AM to watch the whole thing. I guess I’m just super dedicated or something. But my reasoning was, I didn’t have class the next day and what’s really the difference between staying up to 3:00 and staying up to 5:00? Okay, yeah, 2 hours, but still….

So here I am, back to the real world, and I gotta say it’s tiring! But overall, excellent weekend. One of my housemates took some pictures of us kayaking so once I can get those from her I’ll be sure to post them. Seeee ya!

So here I am with legitimately nothing exciting to blog about. As some of you may know, I was sick AGAIN so I sadly haven’t been up to much of anything lately. As much as I love this house, it really is a deathtrap; a good percentage of my housemates have something weird and unexplainable wrong with them at some point during a given week.

This weekend was particularly uneventful because basically every tube line that could take us anywhere we wanted to go in this city was shut down. The thing you know should know about London is that the weekends are quite possibly the worst time to do anything because that’s when they do construction on the tube. Usually, it’s some useless line that’s being worked on, but this weekend, our end of the Central Line (a.k.a. our connection to the outside world) was under construction, as well as any other major line that the Central could have been substituted with.

To make a long story short, our only way of getting around was by bus. And while I normally love those good ‘ol double deckers, I don’t especially love having to wait for them on Oxford Street and then having to fight through massive crowds to get onto one that will take me back to Notting Hill.

Yeah, so here’s a tip for ya: Oxford Street on a Saturday when the tubes aren’t running = bad idea.

It actually gets so tourist-packed in Notting Hill itself over the weekends that the best options are either to stay and hide in the house all day or to hop on the tube and ride it far far away. Since attempting the latter option did not work out so well on Saturday, I opted to be a bum and hang around the house today. I did get out for a bit to take a walk down to Kensington, which was refreshingly not crowded at all, especially in comparison to Oxford. I suppose everyone in West Central London must have been hiding in their houses today as well.

The rest of the weekend was spent starting season two of Dexter, not my favorite but I got everyone so into the first season that it would be cruel not to continue watching…Ohhh I love the power of Dexter influence…

Anyway, next weekend is the infamous IFSA Butler ADVENTURE WEEKEND in Wales, so I will most definitely be updating about that. Adios…

We arrived in the early afternoon on Tuesday and I gotta say that was the easiest flight of my life. Stepping off the plane, I was greeted by an old friend I had not seen in some time: the SUN. He was joined by his pal BLUE SKIES for an unexpected surprise. After a wet and rainy morning in London, this was definitely not what I was anticipating to see in Ireland. To put it simply, it was lovely!

I was already starting to like this country, and going through customs only made it better. Usually, this is a rather intense experience, where unfriendly Immigration officers stare down your passport, secretly judging your for being American. Not in Ireland! I’ve never met a more bubbly and charismatic Immigration officer in my life. He was crackin’ jokes and making small talk about Boston and how nice our teeth were. And with that we were happily welcomed into Dublin.

Next, we smartly navigated our way to the hostel by the airport shuttle and checked in, once again greeted by some friendly Irish people. Since we had a tour planned for the next day, we figured we’d spend today wandering around the city and trying to find some of the spots the people at the hostel recommended.

To no avail. Dublin, despite being a small city, does not make frequent use of this thing called street signs. Basically, we were always headed in the right direction with no inclination that we were on the right street. Also, things were way farther away than they appeared on the map, and definitely not “only a 20 minute walk” from the hostel as we were told. It seems our recently gained sense of good luck was slowly draining, and Tuesday was spent doing a lot of walking with little to no result.

Wednesday, however, we awoke bright and early and ready to take our tour of the countryside. This was also a fail. To make a long story short, the tour company was not so clear on departure times and we ended up arriving 10 minutes late, narrowly missing the bus. Our hearts sank. This was the big event of the trip! What we were to do???

Luckily, we were able to get on the list to take the tour the next day. And since our flight was not until 8:45 pm, we were told we would definitely make it back in time to catch a bus to the airport.

With no alternative plan for the day, we decided to do the super-touristy thing and take one of those hop-on/hop-off bus tours of the city. Down on our luck, we figured it couldn’t hurt to try it out.

It turned out being the best decision of the day! Basically, the bus stopped off at every location we had tried to get to the day before, only this time, we didn’t have to do so much walking. Here are some highlights:

A beautiful day at St. Stephen’s Park:

Christ Church Cathedral:

Guinness Factory:

Kilmainham Gaol (jail):

Despite the disappointment of missing the tour, Wednesday ended up being an overall productive day.

On Thursday, we made it to Paddy Palace hostel in plenty of time to catch the Paddywagon tour (yes, that’s actually what it was called). I guess these tours are known for their incredibly Irish tour guides, and this was definitely the case with our guide, Seanny (yeah, that was his actual name). The tour took us through the Wicklow Mountains to Glendalough and Kilkenny. Glendalough, for those who are unfamiliar, was where certain parts of “Braveheart” were filmed. Now, I’m not one to be easily impressed by nature, but I have to say that Glendalough was actually breathtakingly beautiful.

The pictures don’t do it justice but I have never seen the sky so blue, the grass so green, and smelt the air so fresh!

The next stop, Kilkenny, was a cute little city with a castle that is missing a wall.

By this stop we were so tired and starting to get anxious about making it to the airport in time, so we mostly just sat around and tried to soak up the sun. It actually worked out to take the tour on Thursday instead of Wednesday because after two days in Dublin, it was nice to get out for a bit.

On the ride back into the city, Seanny told jokes and sang us traditional Irish songs. He really was pretty ridiculous. Every time we passed a car on a narrow street, he would say, “Careful now…” in this really thick accent. My favorite quote was, “You should be happy, you’re on a Paddywagon with a leprechaun on the side!”

Getting back was only slightly hectic, as we were stuck in rush hour traffic and still needed to find the airport shuttle which would presumably also be stuck in rush hour traffic. Despite our nerves, we ultimately made it the airport in perfect time and eventually made it back to London.

All in all, it was a very eventful couple of days. Dublin is not exactly the most picturesque city but it’s definitely a warm and friendly place full of lots of history and lots of pubs.

Now, in typical Tamara fashion, I have put together a list for you of Weird Things I’ve Noticed About Dublin:

1. It is actually waaaaay more expensive in Dublin than it is in London, even with the Euro to Pound conversion. I didn’t think this was actually possible.
2. On street signs, Gaelic is sometimes listed before English. English is sometimes not even written at all.
3. Most of what your have heard about the Irish is probably true. Old Irish men wearing old Irish men caps do really sit in the pubs 24 hours a day.

Okay, well that’s all I can remember for now. This post has been sufficiently long and I’m sufficiently tired. So goodbye all…

Greetings from Reading Week! Yes, that’s right, I have a week off from school and so far it has been fabulous.

Saturday was our day trip to Bath.

So nice to see some actual countryside for once:

The bus ride there was filled with sheep and cows and horses and farmers and other English countryside cliches.

Bath was a cute little place with gorgeous architecture:

The actual baths themselves were pretty cool, but there’s only so long a person can stare at hot water in the freezing cold without developing a strong desire to jump on in. Note: we were not permitted to bathe in the baths.

Although the trip was quite lovely, by the end of the day we were all definitely ready to head back to civilization.

Yesterday, as I’m sure you know, was Valentine’s Day, and the gang at Pembridge Gardens celebrated in style.

We baked heart-shaped sugar cookies from scratch, mind you. And I have to say I played a rather significant role with the frosting. Here are the final products:

Fun fact: those are not actually sprinkles, but granulated sugar that I dyed pink. Pretty adorable.

After the cookies, a bunch of us took a trip all the way across the street to the Coronet movie theater to see the movie Valentine’s Day. Now, don’t get me wrong, the new Dedham Showcase Cinema is quite possibly the most magical place on earth. But the Coronet was actually the coolest theater I have ever been to, only in a completely opposite way. It was like, super old-school with a balcony and red curtains and all that kinda stuff. Not sure if this is true or not, but I’m pretty sure it’s the theater Hugh Grant goes to in the movie Notting Hill. Nevertheless, it was pretty awesome. Plus, they had this Valentine’s Day special, free large popcorn with a purchase of any bottle of wine. A weird, but kinda perfect combination and a great way to end the evening.

Anywho, I’m off to Dublin early tomorrow morning so given I will make it back to London, expect a post from me by the end of the week!