I know, it’s so late. I’m already three days into new york, but I needed time for everything to settle. And guess what? I miss London terribly.

The last few days was like, walking to the edge of a cliff without realising it. I didn’t really change my patterns but continuing as if I’d never leave although trying to convince myself that I’d be in New York. I couldn’t cram everything I wanted to do because I had exams until Tuesday and then packing and stuff. I made Frankie make us watch Moulin Rouge because we had talked about it for so bloody long.

Out of all the craziness that happened, there’s one moment that I will always remember. The breakfast at that diner near West Hampstead. I hate comparing real life to books, but it was exactly something out of a book, my first english breakfast. I “ordered” a veggie but somehow ended up with only with the unhealthy items, including the hashbrown, the veggie sausage and the toast. So I swapped some hashbrowns for fried mushrooms and baked beans. I never imagined that baked beans on toast could be worthwhile and it might just be in the imagination, but that day, it tasted good. I wish I could have just elongated that breakfast moment on a beautiful sunny day, but I had to rush off to meet Ailya. Poor thing, we were both exhausted.

Right, them lot told me that there’s an alleyway connecting West Hampstead tube stop to Finchley Road. See, I took alley way too seriously, and found myself a tiny, scary alley that didn’t end, had really tall fences and no exits so I couldnt get out, was dark because the fence blocked out all the sunlight and there were small sheds along the road with graffiti on them. Only I would get myself in that situation. The so called “alley” is actually a wide road with signs all over, but since I was looking for an alley….

Anyways, that was the last enjoyable moment of London. Everything else was just anticipating the end – moulin rouge was depressing. Why did I insist we watch it? Stupidly, I stayed up until 2 or 3 in the morning before my flight the next day.

I really hate missing London, its making the transition to New York a lot harder. Or maybe transitions are always hard and I just erase the frustrating moments in my study abroad from the enjoyment of my final weeks and the onset of nostalgia.

Since I’ve started work, well, no more playtime for me. Its true, as students, you have time but no money, and as an adult, you have money but no time. And I’m just minimum wage.

Well anyways, no more about London or even New York because I signed a confidentiality agreement.


PS Army hot chocolate isn’t bad at all. Rob gave me a packet ages ago, which I made in the last day. Luckily its best in powder form though I feel sorry for the soldiers that they make it with hot water (or powdered milk?). But the image it conjures up is really cute – the “manliness” of war against the kiddishness. The simple warmth of hot chocolate.