Of London and a shiny, happy fit of rage.

I was dreaming that I was in London. One minute I was the airport, the other I was sitting on a shitty thirteen-hour flight to Heathrow. That’s strange, I thought. And I hopped off the plane, and headed to Euston, where I stayed at an overpriced hotel with my mom (my mom is in this dream too, because she has business meetings to attend to here, and who else would pay the bill?) Then the next day, while she met up with her colleagues, I went to Buckingham Palace to visit the Queen and her many ducks.

I also went to visit St. Paul’s Cathedral, which was beautiful. And for a short while at least, I was convinced I wasn’t by myself.

Afterward, everyone met up for dinner at Rules, the supposed oldest restaurant in London. It was a very classy restaurant, and I was quite impressed, till the manager proclaimed proudly that King George used to bring his mistress here! (Oooh, the scandal!)(To which I found excessively funny.) We ate in the Charles Dickens Room, where I realized how fun my mom’s colleagues were. Her boss is so cool. He even taught me how to appreciate wine. So turns out, London is a pretty cool place (pun not only intended, but planned.)

So it is a week later, and I’m back home. And I have to revolve my unremitting guilt from hiding this marvelous thing from you. There is this unspeakably cool movie that is coming out. That’s right, it’s Juno. And the sheer awesomeness of that movie is mind-bottling. I do realize this is almost a shameless plug toward consumerism, but go watch it. Go on. I’ll wait right here.

Zy came over last night, and she made the almost-fatal mistake of bringing up politics in our conversation. I don’t know why, but talking about music, politics or religion just gets me all riled up. I was this close to screaming and shaking her. I don’t want to think about it. (Liar! I wanted to know exactly what I could have said to change her camp from Clinton to Obama. Not only have I been obsessing about it, I have been inviting others to argue with me.) And I just couldn’t let it go. Because 1) I can’t let anyone go by believing Clinton would be a good president, and 2) I know I’m right, and that happens all the time. Because I know my relatives at Chinese New Year are judging, always judging. They get together at the end of it all and mock my political choices. Yeah, that’s right, just politics. I know how it goes.

In conclusion, don’t bring up politics during the New Year. And just avoid me like the plague this festive period. You’ll thank me later.