![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hathycolHello my darlings, I’m alive. I have FAR too much stuff but I am minus a mobile phone. It is quite possibly still in Washington, despite seven (count ‘em - seven) phone calls to the hotel, who have found it, then not found it, then found it again but can’t send it but now they can and to cut a long story short it’s possibly winging its way across the Atlantic.
So, What I Did On My Holidays:
Long because I want to remember everything.
The day began bright and early. I cannot emphasise that enough. My alarm went off at 4.45am. GAH. After swearing quite a lot, I got a shower, ate cornflakes, dressed, etc, etc. I was super-ready to leave when we left an hour after waking up, as I was quite perky and looking forward to the trip. My suitcase was even manageable, with a little space left over for shopping, and a good amount of hang luggage and All Was Well. I had passport, money for the airport, cards, money to take away, underwear, toothbrush, everything. I was unusually prepared! I got the tag from Elaine for the bag, hugged El Parento goodbye and got into the queue to check-in. This was at what, seven am? Check-in was painless, as was security. I did not bleep, nor did I take off my big honking Doc Martins.
So, we sat around. When I say ‘we’ I refer to friends from college/A15 – Laura and Cara, and by gods, were we bored. We seemed to be in Dull Terminal, so there was very little to do. Yawn. However, we perked up somewhat when we had to go and board the plane. We then discovered that we were sat as students alphabetically. There I was, in the middle of three-seat row, with someone I vaguely recognised on one side and someone I’d never spoken a word to on the other. Well, that was friendly as you can guess. Those seven hours do NOT fly by, especially as the films were that bad I couldn’t bear to watch (‘Shall We Dance?’ and ‘Ladder 49’. W00t) and I flew through my book of choice, ‘The Fifth Elephant.’ BAH. I spoke to people, moved around occasionally, and all in all was just BORED. It was a long, dull flight, and I was being responsible and not drinking. You know, start as I mean to go. I think that turning up bladdered to a country where underage drinking is up there with things like murder and whatnot, I would not be popular.
Bah.
The flight ended, eventually, although it was fairly traumatic in that every single time they served food, we had turbulence. I don’t mind taking off on planes. I don’t mind flying level. I do not like the plane shaking or going down, because that means that its doing something that it shouldn’t. Very, very worrying.
However, we landed and flew over New York on the way. Snow was everywhere, and it was very pretty. JFK is much less pretty, especially being stuck in the queue of doom for very long time. It was far too hot. The questionnaire amused me greatly though? “Are you considering an illegal act or act of terrorism whilst in the country? Yes/No.” “Were you a member of the Nazi party between 1933-45? Yes/No.”
Good grief.
When I finally got my fingerprints and photo taken, the guard was very, very polite to me. I can’t fault that. And as such, harassed, slightly smelly and with a body that was starting to feel the effects of a muchos travelling, I entered the United States Of America. And then I got on a coach and watched New York pass me by, and there was much of the happy bouncing and whatnot. Different country, dude! I was looking forward to this SO MUCH! Everyone else seemed to feel the same. ‘Fifty First Dates’ was put on, and I watched it whilst half staring out of the window. I quite liked it, although dude, Sean Astin. That was weird.
We then proceeded to stop at a service station. Which was serving fish and chips. I was disappointed. I also spoke to the sociology teacher, who is very much like a drunk. That may be because she was. She was absolutely pissed off her face from all she drank on the plane, and to add to it she had been on the Valium as she’s nervous of flying. Lovely!
I fell asleep on the way from there, though. I was very, very tired and I roused myself to get off the coach at the hotel. The hotel itself was in the middle of Chinatown in DC, or as it’s become fondly known in college life, Da Ghetto. We dumped our stuff and wandered off the Burger King.
My first experience of Da Ghetto? Near-miss mugging. I kid ye not. We were wandering back and perhaps I had my back unsafely or something, but a bloke reached out to snatch it when Laura more or less squeaked. He leapt back, we legged it, he shouted something. Harrumph. Good start. We then proceeded to basically pass out and sleep so deeply that we didn’t hear the room-mate, Louise, come in at about midnight, nor did we hear Elaine (group leader and politics teacher) try and phone three times. That’s embarrassing, that is. Basically, at 11 every night we all had to check in so that they knew we were all alive and what we were doing. Health and safety, or something. But we missed it. Because we were ASLEEP. An auspicious start, all told.
Due to falling asleep scarily early, we were up on time with the slightest of ease. We wandered down nice and early and ordered pancakes, enjoying the traditional American thing. Those things are filling! Couldn’t eat it all, and neither could Laura or Cara.
So, meeting up with the rest of the Winstanley lot, we took our lovely selves off across the city of DC (we really, really were in Da Ghetto, the difference was scary) which was very… big. Everything in the government district was grand and neo-classical, and all very white. And clean, too. Cara and I got very excited at one point. “Look! The Supreme Court!” We seemed to be the only ones taking photos, and we vowed to go back the next day. (Cara and I are politics students; Laura does law and is bemused by American politics.) We then found Congress. I’ve decided I quite like it. I may have problems with the way it works but it’s certainly in a beautiful location and building. The tour was informative too, and showed some beautiful things. We even got to wander inside the House of Representatives. Fun!
All of this educational stuff meant we were somewhat late for our trip to the Pentagon. The scary army men did not shout, however. Going around the Pentagon itself left us all quite knackered, though. The trip was long, and in some places quite upsetting, in particular the section with the memorial for 9/11.
After all this was over, we were taken on a trip to the Pentagon City. This is one stop down on the Metro and it is a very big shopping mall. This is the first major spending of money, but we saw plenty of people in the mall with us from Winstanley, all weighed down by bags. We also fell in love with a place called ‘Forever 21’ on the basis that it was cheap.
We then wandered back to the hotel and ordered pizza. It was not nice pizza, and this meant that for the last few meals, barring breakfast, we had eaten unappetising crap. Great. We then all passed out again. What’s really embarrassing is that I was actually making myself stay awake until she phoned, but I actually fell asleep. I wandered up the door when Elaine banged on it. She reasoned that we were probably asleep again. We were. I think we were all still on English time. However, since I had fuzzy hair, bleary little blinky eyes and my pajamas, Elaine thinks I look like a mole. Every time I saw her on a trip, she scrunch up her nose and her eyes. "Moley! Moley!"
The next day started with another trip on the Metro. There are some scary posters in America, you know that? A whole wall of “Marriage works.” “Kids of married parents do better in school.” “Married couples earn more money.” Crazyness.
However, the prescribed morning activity (a primarily sociological thing, I think) was a trip to the Holocaust Museum. I can’t recommend it enough. Personally, I won’t go again, but it was fascinating and deeply upsetting. The rise of Hitler’s power was standard enough, GCSE history fare, but the scenes of the actual Holocaust itself were just appalling, and I cried once or twice at the footage of soldiers liberating the camps. My grandad – the one I never knew, really, as he died when I was about three – did that in the war. He would never talk about it, according to Dad. I don’t blame him.
We left the museum a little shell-shocked. We had agreed previously the order of events, and we stuck to them. First, we went to Pentagon City again with money and whatnot, enjoyed an hour of blatant consumerism, and then proceeded back to the hotel, picked up cameras and stuff and wandered happily to the Metro on a Sightseeing Tour Of Choice.
First, ‘the pointy thing from Forrest Gump.’ We have discovered that it is called The Wahington Monument, and we just started to giggle and giggle, possibly out of relief and post-Museum shock. I got the moniker ‘Mom’ as I was the responsible one, herding and taking photos and making sure roads were crossed at sensible times. We then moved onto the White House, which was surprisingly tricky to the find.
“Is THAT the White House?”
“Laura, it’s like a dirty grey! No!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! It’s the library!”
“… no, it’s the Treasury.”
We found it in the end, and there is an amusing photo of me putting the finger up to it. Hee! We then decided to walk to the FBI, and that was a nightmare to find. We couldn’t find it. So, we asked a policeman.
ME: Where’s the FBI, please?”
POLICEMAN: Erm, I’m not sure.
CARA: Any idea?
POLICEMAN: That way. Maybe. You don’t want to go there! It’s boring, just offices!
ME: Wait… how do you know that?
LAURA: Ooh, can we take a photo of you?
POLICEMAN: I’m sorry, I’m Secret Service.
ALL: COOL! DUDE! COOL!
We found it in the end, but it really was just an office building. Why on earth can’t they tell us where it is? Really.
We were very tired by this point, feet were sore, and we had far too long to walk. We then decided to try and find the Supreme Court. A half an hour walk later, we’d found the building we thought it was. Except, of course, it was the SUPERIOR Court. Oh, god. That’s just embarrassing. We staggered through the door of the hotel eventually, and then just died. My feet by this point looked a little like we’d been bottled or something – blisters and cuts EVERYWHERE. Stupid new boots.
Of course, we then went ice skating. And I’m so glad I did. The ice rink was beautiful in the middle of the sculpture park, and we skated around in the darkness with little dancing lights around us. It was beautiful, and we all laughed, joked, and generally had a good time. I fell over quite spectacularly twice, and for the first one kept on moving for a little while. Erm, whoops?
I really enjoyed that day. It was educational in a sort of weird way, lotsa exercise and we went for a real meal afterwards. Thank god.
Of course, the real point of the trip was going to New York. We packed the night before (and already beginning to verge to sitting on the case to make it close) and were ready and raring to go the next day. In fact, we even left on time. It took my precisely half the trip to twig that I had left my phone in DC. I panicked, and then reasoned that I could check my suitcase. But I knew. Oh, god, I had lost my phone and oh shit etc etc. It wasn’t a nice feeling, but it couldn’t spoil getting into New York proper. We actually cheered when we entered the city. It really is a concrete jungle – the tall buildings blocked the sunlight and my god it was just weird how BIG they were.
We entered the hotel, and climbed into the one working lift, which was teeny. I got the room and verified that yes, my phone was much of the MIA. Panicked thoroughly and then decided to calm down. I took my phone card, and off we went to Macys, whilst I rang up the hotel wibbled down the phone. They found the phone and promised to send it to the hotel if I left a credit card at the desk. Well and good. Happy, I wandered off to Macys, what with it being about… three minutes from the hotel. Frankly? It’s Debenhams on speed. We then wandered around and did yet more shopping. Already, too, too much.
We had to be back in the evening to go up the Empire State Building. It was lovely – the lights were lit up everywhere and I could see the entire city. It was just beautiful, albeit cold. Gorgeous, just gorgeous. I loved it.
Out we went to TGI Fridays after that. What a mistake. Expensive and we all felt rather ill after it, despite a desperate attempt to try and get some vitamins into us. I sat opposite Becky, who I sat next to on the plane and is in fact my evil twin. Or possibly good twin. We’re not sure. We were both suffering from ulcers (we bonded over my tube of Bonjela) and both have red curly hair. Friendships are born oddly.
Back to the hotel, where I phoned to sort out payment for my phone. My first dealing with an imbecile in the hotel. They really don’t communicate in the Washington hotel at ALL. Eventually agreed to phone back the next morning, and then I went to bed. Early. Again. What a sad act I am.
The next morning, I began by accosting people enthusiastically. “Will you come to the Phantom Of The Opera with me? PLEASE?”
I got about eight people to agree. Fabby! So I phoned up the hotel with Elaine, wibbled at the staff, eventually got the manager on the line, and DID NOT get the bastard sorted AGAIN. Nearly cried, frankly, so I shouted at them instead and played the Stupid Foreginer trick.
“No! I don’t have a FedEx account! I’m not from this country! I’m not from this CONTINENT! Will you PLEASE just put this in a language that I can UNDERSTAND?”
It didn’t work, but I felt better for it. Wibbled some more and left it at that. We spent the morning in the UN, which was as dull as a ditchwater. Or so I thought. Discovered that while we were there, in that very same building, they were brokering the agreement on Palestine. DUDE! I was outside the DOOR! Not allowed into the meeting, obviously, but wow. That is very, very cool. The tour was still somewhat dull.
We then went ice-skating again, in Central Park. It was just… wow. The snow was still everywhere and it was actually cold! Cool – literally.
So, we went shopping. Again. And my, how we shopped. All the landmarks – Bloomingdale’s stands out. I won’t describe everything I got, as it’ll take too long, but birthday presents are sorted for quite a long time now.
Got back to the hotel, changed into new spangly top and wandered down to the lobby, where I either sorted out my phone or I waved a fond farewell. I gave the college address to send it to, spelling out phonetically (“Billinge. B for BEN, I for ICE…”) and from there I let it be. The stress was killing me and I had better things to worry about. Wandered up to the lobby and saw Louise leaving.
“Where are you going, Louise?”
“To see Phantom!”
“You have TICKETS?”
“Yeah, they closed the cheap place about half an hour ago.”
“YOU LIE!”
Panicked, and then resigned myself to going to the cinema as I probably didn’t have anyone to go to Broadway with. But oh god, I have never been so glad to see people be late. Rachel and Hazel were down late, so ten of us jumped in taxis and went to the box office. For $55 we got tickets in not a great place, but a seat. And, for the first time in my life, I saw Phantom Of The Opera on stage. It was… just… oh, god. It was so wonderful. The Phantom was really rather wonderful. Raoul was less annoying. Christine, I feel, wasn’t played very well, but that’s just me. I sat next to Hazel and we wibbled together about Phantom, and Rocky Horror, and it was all just lovely. Squee. And I’m going down again in London! Yay! The entertaining part was when we went past a sign for 'Spamalot - The Monty Python Musical' and we all rued that there wasn't time to see that as well. Because TIM CURRY was in it. The Rocky Horror fans had to describe him.
"He plays Frank N Furter!"
"Never seen it."
"He's in Annie? As Rooster?"
"Never seen that."
"He's... er... Long John Silver from Muppet Treasure Island!"
"REALLY?"
Being hungry and out late, we went for food. We even phoned first to let people know where all ten of us where and that we wouldn’t split up and we’d get taxis together and everything. Getting the okay for this, we got some gorgeous Italian at a place called The Olive Garden at Times Square. Yummy yummy yummy! We ate, we sat around, we laughed, we had free garlic bread, everyone was happy.
We got in. Elaine flipped her lid at us for not checking in, despite the fact we had. Invalidates the insurance policy or something. Confused by this, we didn’t argue. She was scary, frankly. I went to bed annoyed and very late. “Oooh, you little rebel!” I was teased. Harrumph.
The next morning, the ten of us wibbled in a corner together, because Elaine is a scary bitch. Much fun was had making cheesy “But… those eyes that burn!” jokes, however, so that was fun in the hysteria of the “we are so FUCKED this woman had to teach us for the next year” way. Elaine then apologised and was normal for the rest of the day, leaving me to enjoy my Phantom memories happily. It turns out her son was ill back in England and she thought he was phoning and she wasn’t quite with it. So that is that. First stop of the day was the statue of Liberty, which was… erm… big. And green. Just a wee bit boring, too. The security was scarily tight and it just wasn’t worth it to go and see the pedestal. I wish that I’d gone to Ellis Island instead, and there wasn’t time to do both. Bah.
We were then taken on a walking tour of Brooklyn by a bloke called Ambrose, who is Hugh’s old mate from university who is now a clown. I’m not making this shit up, folks. We went across Brooklyn Bridge, which is very big and quite scary, before moving on to Ground Zero, which left me oddly numb. The buildings still being worked on were weird, though.
And then… slightly more shopping. I am the only girl in existence who would go to Victoria’s Secret and buy a bag. However, I had one really good moment. The best jeans in existence are H&M Extra Flared 30” leg length jeans, and I can’t find them in the UK anymore. But I found them in America! To make it that little bit sweeter, Keane was playing in the changing room, and I just danced around. I have new jeans! That fit! Yay!
For our last meal, we were taken to the Hard Rock Café. I was not impressed. Atmosphere was good (surreptitiously touched Kurt Cobain’s guitar) but food was much of the crap and made me feel distinctly ill. It was nice, though, getting dressed up and wearing make-up (le gasp) even if it was applied in the space of ten minutes and I had to sit in the dark all night.
On the final day, I felt almost dreamy having to leave. Part of me wanted to go home and see people again, and get online and get my bloody phone numbers back, and part of me wanted to stay and see the sights for a bit longer. Alas, it was not to be. We had a last minute wander down Times Square, got asked by a policeman what we were doing and could he see our school licences please? We did the Stupid Foreigner thing again, and he laughed.
“You’re from England? Get out! With accents like that I thought you were from the Bronx!”
We got a photo with him. Lovely bloke.
That leads me to an overall point about US culture. Some of the people I dealt with – the first man at the hotel, the waiters at the Irish bar, people behind the desk of the Comfort Inn, policemen, Secret Service men – were absolutely charming to me. I can’t emphasise that enough. They were friendly, informative (unless it was a state secret, it seems) and made me feel welcome. On the other hand, though, I despised the fake cheeriness of some shop staff. “Hey! How are you today?” It was very ‘hello-my-name-is-Marie’ and it seemed fake and empty to me. As I remarked to Elaine with the Phone Fiasco: “They’re desperate to help until I actually need help.” I almost liked the rude ones – they weren’t going to pretend they cared.
Anyway. Time slowly ticked out, and we arrived back at the hotel to be greeted by chaos. The bags were going to be taken downstairs for us at noon, so a lot of people went shopping and brought stuff back at 11am to pack. Erm, too late. The maids were kicking off, the management were kicking off back, the porters seemed to be taking bets…
In the end, a lot of people packed in the terminal. So did I. Turns out you’re only allowed to bring in a limit of stuff with you, and I had so much over that. I was rooting through my suitcase for labels and receipts, just in case. Didn’t matter in the end, but sitting in the BA Terminal at JKF surrounding by frantically packing girls is not fun.
Time travelled on, and we got on the plane. I watched Vanity Fair (bit naff, in my opinion, but Reese Witherspoon was very good) and then passed out for three hours or so in my comfy little windowseat. The landing was awful, and I was filled with this sort of disbelief that my holiday was over.
I have come home with shitloads of clothes, a new bag, keyrings, a Coldplay CD, a new belt, Disney store stuff and all kinds of other crap. I am a bad Socialist. I feel ashamed. I really do. In a sort of 'Material Girl' way...
I can’t believe that my holiday of a lifetime is over now. Actually, I can’t believe I’ve had it – it feels like a distant dream. Especially since I have college tomorrow and I haven’t touched my homework for any subject. Crap. I've put in a hefty amount of washing with some of my new clothes and now the washing machine is broken, leaving my clothes soaking in suspicious green water which looks the exact same shade as one of my new tops. Oops. Good start, Colleen!
But yes, I am back, to my home country. Did you miss me?
~~
Things seem to have happened whilst I was gone:
1.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
flickerswitch, congrats!
2. Camilla and Charles are getting married! Gosh.
3. I have been rejected from York. Bastards.
4. I have lost my phone. I’ve mentioned this. E-mail me your numbers. Please, god, this is vital. I have NO PHONE NUMBERS. I don’t even have CLARE’S phone number. GAH.
5. Dan’s gone to Shrewsbury?! And I wasn’t there?!
6. It be Lent. I missed Shrove Tuesday and Ash Wednesday. Saying that, so did the Pope, so I think I can be let off.
7. Apparently a rather good episode of Stargate happened…?
8.kittyc1978 sent me a postcard! Thanks, hun!
9. People are having birthdays! Jolly good for you. I wish everyone a very happy birthday. You know who you are.
In the past 36 hours, I’ve had three hours sleep and I’ve not eaten for 15 hours. I think now maybe would be a good time to eat.
[EDIT: Washing machine very fucked up and has not rinsed clothes. Dude, I am GLAD I don't like in the days where you had to handwash everything. At least the door opened, even if it did spew green water all over the garage...]
~Hathy_Col~
So, What I Did On My Holidays:
Long because I want to remember everything.
The day began bright and early. I cannot emphasise that enough. My alarm went off at 4.45am. GAH. After swearing quite a lot, I got a shower, ate cornflakes, dressed, etc, etc. I was super-ready to leave when we left an hour after waking up, as I was quite perky and looking forward to the trip. My suitcase was even manageable, with a little space left over for shopping, and a good amount of hang luggage and All Was Well. I had passport, money for the airport, cards, money to take away, underwear, toothbrush, everything. I was unusually prepared! I got the tag from Elaine for the bag, hugged El Parento goodbye and got into the queue to check-in. This was at what, seven am? Check-in was painless, as was security. I did not bleep, nor did I take off my big honking Doc Martins.
So, we sat around. When I say ‘we’ I refer to friends from college/A15 – Laura and Cara, and by gods, were we bored. We seemed to be in Dull Terminal, so there was very little to do. Yawn. However, we perked up somewhat when we had to go and board the plane. We then discovered that we were sat as students alphabetically. There I was, in the middle of three-seat row, with someone I vaguely recognised on one side and someone I’d never spoken a word to on the other. Well, that was friendly as you can guess. Those seven hours do NOT fly by, especially as the films were that bad I couldn’t bear to watch (‘Shall We Dance?’ and ‘Ladder 49’. W00t) and I flew through my book of choice, ‘The Fifth Elephant.’ BAH. I spoke to people, moved around occasionally, and all in all was just BORED. It was a long, dull flight, and I was being responsible and not drinking. You know, start as I mean to go. I think that turning up bladdered to a country where underage drinking is up there with things like murder and whatnot, I would not be popular.
Bah.
The flight ended, eventually, although it was fairly traumatic in that every single time they served food, we had turbulence. I don’t mind taking off on planes. I don’t mind flying level. I do not like the plane shaking or going down, because that means that its doing something that it shouldn’t. Very, very worrying.
However, we landed and flew over New York on the way. Snow was everywhere, and it was very pretty. JFK is much less pretty, especially being stuck in the queue of doom for very long time. It was far too hot. The questionnaire amused me greatly though? “Are you considering an illegal act or act of terrorism whilst in the country? Yes/No.” “Were you a member of the Nazi party between 1933-45? Yes/No.”
Good grief.
When I finally got my fingerprints and photo taken, the guard was very, very polite to me. I can’t fault that. And as such, harassed, slightly smelly and with a body that was starting to feel the effects of a muchos travelling, I entered the United States Of America. And then I got on a coach and watched New York pass me by, and there was much of the happy bouncing and whatnot. Different country, dude! I was looking forward to this SO MUCH! Everyone else seemed to feel the same. ‘Fifty First Dates’ was put on, and I watched it whilst half staring out of the window. I quite liked it, although dude, Sean Astin. That was weird.
We then proceeded to stop at a service station. Which was serving fish and chips. I was disappointed. I also spoke to the sociology teacher, who is very much like a drunk. That may be because she was. She was absolutely pissed off her face from all she drank on the plane, and to add to it she had been on the Valium as she’s nervous of flying. Lovely!
I fell asleep on the way from there, though. I was very, very tired and I roused myself to get off the coach at the hotel. The hotel itself was in the middle of Chinatown in DC, or as it’s become fondly known in college life, Da Ghetto. We dumped our stuff and wandered off the Burger King.
My first experience of Da Ghetto? Near-miss mugging. I kid ye not. We were wandering back and perhaps I had my back unsafely or something, but a bloke reached out to snatch it when Laura more or less squeaked. He leapt back, we legged it, he shouted something. Harrumph. Good start. We then proceeded to basically pass out and sleep so deeply that we didn’t hear the room-mate, Louise, come in at about midnight, nor did we hear Elaine (group leader and politics teacher) try and phone three times. That’s embarrassing, that is. Basically, at 11 every night we all had to check in so that they knew we were all alive and what we were doing. Health and safety, or something. But we missed it. Because we were ASLEEP. An auspicious start, all told.
Due to falling asleep scarily early, we were up on time with the slightest of ease. We wandered down nice and early and ordered pancakes, enjoying the traditional American thing. Those things are filling! Couldn’t eat it all, and neither could Laura or Cara.
So, meeting up with the rest of the Winstanley lot, we took our lovely selves off across the city of DC (we really, really were in Da Ghetto, the difference was scary) which was very… big. Everything in the government district was grand and neo-classical, and all very white. And clean, too. Cara and I got very excited at one point. “Look! The Supreme Court!” We seemed to be the only ones taking photos, and we vowed to go back the next day. (Cara and I are politics students; Laura does law and is bemused by American politics.) We then found Congress. I’ve decided I quite like it. I may have problems with the way it works but it’s certainly in a beautiful location and building. The tour was informative too, and showed some beautiful things. We even got to wander inside the House of Representatives. Fun!
All of this educational stuff meant we were somewhat late for our trip to the Pentagon. The scary army men did not shout, however. Going around the Pentagon itself left us all quite knackered, though. The trip was long, and in some places quite upsetting, in particular the section with the memorial for 9/11.
After all this was over, we were taken on a trip to the Pentagon City. This is one stop down on the Metro and it is a very big shopping mall. This is the first major spending of money, but we saw plenty of people in the mall with us from Winstanley, all weighed down by bags. We also fell in love with a place called ‘Forever 21’ on the basis that it was cheap.
We then wandered back to the hotel and ordered pizza. It was not nice pizza, and this meant that for the last few meals, barring breakfast, we had eaten unappetising crap. Great. We then all passed out again. What’s really embarrassing is that I was actually making myself stay awake until she phoned, but I actually fell asleep. I wandered up the door when Elaine banged on it. She reasoned that we were probably asleep again. We were. I think we were all still on English time. However, since I had fuzzy hair, bleary little blinky eyes and my pajamas, Elaine thinks I look like a mole. Every time I saw her on a trip, she scrunch up her nose and her eyes. "Moley! Moley!"
The next day started with another trip on the Metro. There are some scary posters in America, you know that? A whole wall of “Marriage works.” “Kids of married parents do better in school.” “Married couples earn more money.” Crazyness.
However, the prescribed morning activity (a primarily sociological thing, I think) was a trip to the Holocaust Museum. I can’t recommend it enough. Personally, I won’t go again, but it was fascinating and deeply upsetting. The rise of Hitler’s power was standard enough, GCSE history fare, but the scenes of the actual Holocaust itself were just appalling, and I cried once or twice at the footage of soldiers liberating the camps. My grandad – the one I never knew, really, as he died when I was about three – did that in the war. He would never talk about it, according to Dad. I don’t blame him.
We left the museum a little shell-shocked. We had agreed previously the order of events, and we stuck to them. First, we went to Pentagon City again with money and whatnot, enjoyed an hour of blatant consumerism, and then proceeded back to the hotel, picked up cameras and stuff and wandered happily to the Metro on a Sightseeing Tour Of Choice.
First, ‘the pointy thing from Forrest Gump.’ We have discovered that it is called The Wahington Monument, and we just started to giggle and giggle, possibly out of relief and post-Museum shock. I got the moniker ‘Mom’ as I was the responsible one, herding and taking photos and making sure roads were crossed at sensible times. We then moved onto the White House, which was surprisingly tricky to the find.
“Is THAT the White House?”
“Laura, it’s like a dirty grey! No!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! It’s the library!”
“… no, it’s the Treasury.”
We found it in the end, and there is an amusing photo of me putting the finger up to it. Hee! We then decided to walk to the FBI, and that was a nightmare to find. We couldn’t find it. So, we asked a policeman.
ME: Where’s the FBI, please?”
POLICEMAN: Erm, I’m not sure.
CARA: Any idea?
POLICEMAN: That way. Maybe. You don’t want to go there! It’s boring, just offices!
ME: Wait… how do you know that?
LAURA: Ooh, can we take a photo of you?
POLICEMAN: I’m sorry, I’m Secret Service.
ALL: COOL! DUDE! COOL!
We found it in the end, but it really was just an office building. Why on earth can’t they tell us where it is? Really.
We were very tired by this point, feet were sore, and we had far too long to walk. We then decided to try and find the Supreme Court. A half an hour walk later, we’d found the building we thought it was. Except, of course, it was the SUPERIOR Court. Oh, god. That’s just embarrassing. We staggered through the door of the hotel eventually, and then just died. My feet by this point looked a little like we’d been bottled or something – blisters and cuts EVERYWHERE. Stupid new boots.
Of course, we then went ice skating. And I’m so glad I did. The ice rink was beautiful in the middle of the sculpture park, and we skated around in the darkness with little dancing lights around us. It was beautiful, and we all laughed, joked, and generally had a good time. I fell over quite spectacularly twice, and for the first one kept on moving for a little while. Erm, whoops?
I really enjoyed that day. It was educational in a sort of weird way, lotsa exercise and we went for a real meal afterwards. Thank god.
Of course, the real point of the trip was going to New York. We packed the night before (and already beginning to verge to sitting on the case to make it close) and were ready and raring to go the next day. In fact, we even left on time. It took my precisely half the trip to twig that I had left my phone in DC. I panicked, and then reasoned that I could check my suitcase. But I knew. Oh, god, I had lost my phone and oh shit etc etc. It wasn’t a nice feeling, but it couldn’t spoil getting into New York proper. We actually cheered when we entered the city. It really is a concrete jungle – the tall buildings blocked the sunlight and my god it was just weird how BIG they were.
We entered the hotel, and climbed into the one working lift, which was teeny. I got the room and verified that yes, my phone was much of the MIA. Panicked thoroughly and then decided to calm down. I took my phone card, and off we went to Macys, whilst I rang up the hotel wibbled down the phone. They found the phone and promised to send it to the hotel if I left a credit card at the desk. Well and good. Happy, I wandered off to Macys, what with it being about… three minutes from the hotel. Frankly? It’s Debenhams on speed. We then wandered around and did yet more shopping. Already, too, too much.
We had to be back in the evening to go up the Empire State Building. It was lovely – the lights were lit up everywhere and I could see the entire city. It was just beautiful, albeit cold. Gorgeous, just gorgeous. I loved it.
Out we went to TGI Fridays after that. What a mistake. Expensive and we all felt rather ill after it, despite a desperate attempt to try and get some vitamins into us. I sat opposite Becky, who I sat next to on the plane and is in fact my evil twin. Or possibly good twin. We’re not sure. We were both suffering from ulcers (we bonded over my tube of Bonjela) and both have red curly hair. Friendships are born oddly.
Back to the hotel, where I phoned to sort out payment for my phone. My first dealing with an imbecile in the hotel. They really don’t communicate in the Washington hotel at ALL. Eventually agreed to phone back the next morning, and then I went to bed. Early. Again. What a sad act I am.
The next morning, I began by accosting people enthusiastically. “Will you come to the Phantom Of The Opera with me? PLEASE?”
I got about eight people to agree. Fabby! So I phoned up the hotel with Elaine, wibbled at the staff, eventually got the manager on the line, and DID NOT get the bastard sorted AGAIN. Nearly cried, frankly, so I shouted at them instead and played the Stupid Foreginer trick.
“No! I don’t have a FedEx account! I’m not from this country! I’m not from this CONTINENT! Will you PLEASE just put this in a language that I can UNDERSTAND?”
It didn’t work, but I felt better for it. Wibbled some more and left it at that. We spent the morning in the UN, which was as dull as a ditchwater. Or so I thought. Discovered that while we were there, in that very same building, they were brokering the agreement on Palestine. DUDE! I was outside the DOOR! Not allowed into the meeting, obviously, but wow. That is very, very cool. The tour was still somewhat dull.
We then went ice-skating again, in Central Park. It was just… wow. The snow was still everywhere and it was actually cold! Cool – literally.
So, we went shopping. Again. And my, how we shopped. All the landmarks – Bloomingdale’s stands out. I won’t describe everything I got, as it’ll take too long, but birthday presents are sorted for quite a long time now.
Got back to the hotel, changed into new spangly top and wandered down to the lobby, where I either sorted out my phone or I waved a fond farewell. I gave the college address to send it to, spelling out phonetically (“Billinge. B for BEN, I for ICE…”) and from there I let it be. The stress was killing me and I had better things to worry about. Wandered up to the lobby and saw Louise leaving.
“Where are you going, Louise?”
“To see Phantom!”
“You have TICKETS?”
“Yeah, they closed the cheap place about half an hour ago.”
“YOU LIE!”
Panicked, and then resigned myself to going to the cinema as I probably didn’t have anyone to go to Broadway with. But oh god, I have never been so glad to see people be late. Rachel and Hazel were down late, so ten of us jumped in taxis and went to the box office. For $55 we got tickets in not a great place, but a seat. And, for the first time in my life, I saw Phantom Of The Opera on stage. It was… just… oh, god. It was so wonderful. The Phantom was really rather wonderful. Raoul was less annoying. Christine, I feel, wasn’t played very well, but that’s just me. I sat next to Hazel and we wibbled together about Phantom, and Rocky Horror, and it was all just lovely. Squee. And I’m going down again in London! Yay! The entertaining part was when we went past a sign for 'Spamalot - The Monty Python Musical' and we all rued that there wasn't time to see that as well. Because TIM CURRY was in it. The Rocky Horror fans had to describe him.
"He plays Frank N Furter!"
"Never seen it."
"He's in Annie? As Rooster?"
"Never seen that."
"He's... er... Long John Silver from Muppet Treasure Island!"
"REALLY?"
Being hungry and out late, we went for food. We even phoned first to let people know where all ten of us where and that we wouldn’t split up and we’d get taxis together and everything. Getting the okay for this, we got some gorgeous Italian at a place called The Olive Garden at Times Square. Yummy yummy yummy! We ate, we sat around, we laughed, we had free garlic bread, everyone was happy.
We got in. Elaine flipped her lid at us for not checking in, despite the fact we had. Invalidates the insurance policy or something. Confused by this, we didn’t argue. She was scary, frankly. I went to bed annoyed and very late. “Oooh, you little rebel!” I was teased. Harrumph.
The next morning, the ten of us wibbled in a corner together, because Elaine is a scary bitch. Much fun was had making cheesy “But… those eyes that burn!” jokes, however, so that was fun in the hysteria of the “we are so FUCKED this woman had to teach us for the next year” way. Elaine then apologised and was normal for the rest of the day, leaving me to enjoy my Phantom memories happily. It turns out her son was ill back in England and she thought he was phoning and she wasn’t quite with it. So that is that. First stop of the day was the statue of Liberty, which was… erm… big. And green. Just a wee bit boring, too. The security was scarily tight and it just wasn’t worth it to go and see the pedestal. I wish that I’d gone to Ellis Island instead, and there wasn’t time to do both. Bah.
We were then taken on a walking tour of Brooklyn by a bloke called Ambrose, who is Hugh’s old mate from university who is now a clown. I’m not making this shit up, folks. We went across Brooklyn Bridge, which is very big and quite scary, before moving on to Ground Zero, which left me oddly numb. The buildings still being worked on were weird, though.
And then… slightly more shopping. I am the only girl in existence who would go to Victoria’s Secret and buy a bag. However, I had one really good moment. The best jeans in existence are H&M Extra Flared 30” leg length jeans, and I can’t find them in the UK anymore. But I found them in America! To make it that little bit sweeter, Keane was playing in the changing room, and I just danced around. I have new jeans! That fit! Yay!
For our last meal, we were taken to the Hard Rock Café. I was not impressed. Atmosphere was good (surreptitiously touched Kurt Cobain’s guitar) but food was much of the crap and made me feel distinctly ill. It was nice, though, getting dressed up and wearing make-up (le gasp) even if it was applied in the space of ten minutes and I had to sit in the dark all night.
On the final day, I felt almost dreamy having to leave. Part of me wanted to go home and see people again, and get online and get my bloody phone numbers back, and part of me wanted to stay and see the sights for a bit longer. Alas, it was not to be. We had a last minute wander down Times Square, got asked by a policeman what we were doing and could he see our school licences please? We did the Stupid Foreigner thing again, and he laughed.
“You’re from England? Get out! With accents like that I thought you were from the Bronx!”
We got a photo with him. Lovely bloke.
That leads me to an overall point about US culture. Some of the people I dealt with – the first man at the hotel, the waiters at the Irish bar, people behind the desk of the Comfort Inn, policemen, Secret Service men – were absolutely charming to me. I can’t emphasise that enough. They were friendly, informative (unless it was a state secret, it seems) and made me feel welcome. On the other hand, though, I despised the fake cheeriness of some shop staff. “Hey! How are you today?” It was very ‘hello-my-name-is-Marie’ and it seemed fake and empty to me. As I remarked to Elaine with the Phone Fiasco: “They’re desperate to help until I actually need help.” I almost liked the rude ones – they weren’t going to pretend they cared.
Anyway. Time slowly ticked out, and we arrived back at the hotel to be greeted by chaos. The bags were going to be taken downstairs for us at noon, so a lot of people went shopping and brought stuff back at 11am to pack. Erm, too late. The maids were kicking off, the management were kicking off back, the porters seemed to be taking bets…
In the end, a lot of people packed in the terminal. So did I. Turns out you’re only allowed to bring in a limit of stuff with you, and I had so much over that. I was rooting through my suitcase for labels and receipts, just in case. Didn’t matter in the end, but sitting in the BA Terminal at JKF surrounding by frantically packing girls is not fun.
Time travelled on, and we got on the plane. I watched Vanity Fair (bit naff, in my opinion, but Reese Witherspoon was very good) and then passed out for three hours or so in my comfy little windowseat. The landing was awful, and I was filled with this sort of disbelief that my holiday was over.
I have come home with shitloads of clothes, a new bag, keyrings, a Coldplay CD, a new belt, Disney store stuff and all kinds of other crap. I am a bad Socialist. I feel ashamed. I really do. In a sort of 'Material Girl' way...
I can’t believe that my holiday of a lifetime is over now. Actually, I can’t believe I’ve had it – it feels like a distant dream. Especially since I have college tomorrow and I haven’t touched my homework for any subject. Crap. I've put in a hefty amount of washing with some of my new clothes and now the washing machine is broken, leaving my clothes soaking in suspicious green water which looks the exact same shade as one of my new tops. Oops. Good start, Colleen!
But yes, I am back, to my home country. Did you miss me?
~~
Things seem to have happened whilst I was gone:
1.
flickerswitch, congrats!2. Camilla and Charles are getting married! Gosh.
3. I have been rejected from York. Bastards.
4. I have lost my phone. I’ve mentioned this. E-mail me your numbers. Please, god, this is vital. I have NO PHONE NUMBERS. I don’t even have CLARE’S phone number. GAH.
5. Dan’s gone to Shrewsbury?! And I wasn’t there?!
6. It be Lent. I missed Shrove Tuesday and Ash Wednesday. Saying that, so did the Pope, so I think I can be let off.
7. Apparently a rather good episode of Stargate happened…?
8.
kittyc1978 sent me a postcard! Thanks, hun!9. People are having birthdays! Jolly good for you. I wish everyone a very happy birthday. You know who you are.
In the past 36 hours, I’ve had three hours sleep and I’ve not eaten for 15 hours. I think now maybe would be a good time to eat.
[EDIT: Washing machine very fucked up and has not rinsed clothes. Dude, I am GLAD I don't like in the days where you had to handwash everything. At least the door opened, even if it did spew green water all over the garage...]
~Hathy_Col~
no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 03:37 pm (UTC)I'm not sure how many TGI Friday's there are in New York, but was the one you were in 'round the corner from the New Yorker hotel? Because that's where we were staying! Ahh, Times Square, Central Park, Empire State Building - i so wish i could go back there someday, we just didn't have time to see everything :(
no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 04:02 pm (UTC)The analogy is not mine, alas. You must thank Shaun 'Voice Of New Labour' Harkin for that...
I have a photo of the New Yorker! I'll post it up soon. We were in Times Square, though...
I know, there's just not enough time. :(
no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 06:21 pm (UTC)Ooh, can't wait to see the photos, i've still got all mine to organise and show off, must remember to do that over half term...
Oh, in regards to Stargate, let me just say that it evoked much abuse of the caps lock key from everyone ;)
(and by the way, all my numbers etc are on bebo.com)
no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 03:38 pm (UTC)I've been to DC numerous times, since I grew up in Virginia, and NYC once. Been to that ice rink in DC and the Hard Rock in New York (I agree, the food was lousy). So I feel like I was there with you. :-)
It was neat to read about my country from another perspective. I'm glad you had a great trip.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 03:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 04:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 04:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 04:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-11 03:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 05:36 pm (UTC)Also, why did you take your phone with you? Surely it didn't work over there?
*glomps on you* Will send you any phone numbers I have around shortly.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-11 03:15 pm (UTC)Numbers are super, send them away!
Wish you had been there for Washington, because every time I geeke out I knew that you were probably the only one I knew who would be equally excited.
no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 07:10 pm (UTC)My number = 07780626944
Iona's number = 07775728077
They're the only ones I know without looking. Any more you need, let me know. Sorry about the phone, but I need a new one too. We can search together. :P
no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 11:34 pm (UTC)I need a new one too - they battery won't charge properly now (it takes about a year to realise it is indeed plugged into the mains, argh).
Col - will give you phone number when phone will turn on again. I am sad and can't remember it off by heart. ;) Home number is 01513423692 and more likely to be answered! ;)
*Goes off to read epic entry now*
no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-11 03:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-11 01:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-12 01:28 pm (UTC)littleLOT weird.hey ya'll ok?
Date: 2005-02-13 01:58 pm (UTC)wow @ your holiday col, seemed like so much fun, why o WHY did i decide to go to razorlight (which to add insult was cancelled) instead of takin up the chance of going again...o well..see you in college after half term...when i get to return to my FAVOURITE english class...give me strength dear.
have a good half term, love soo
ps. u didnt have my number before, bt its 07709827026...and i tried to spell this as best i could x