Dear Diary..

I want to write a song. I do. I have all the stuff, the guitar, the pen and maybe even the voice. I just don't know where to start. I googled 'how to write a song' and some site told me to start with finding a title. A phrase. Something that catches you and draws you in.
It told me to start with just writing myself. About random things. And later I have to read it and scan it if I actually wrote a good phrase. So here I am. Trying to find my phrase.

For the ones that don't know yet, I've been to London. That's right. I've been back for two hours now.
I will write some sort of diary here, not only for the ones who might read this but also for me, because it actually was a school assignment to write a diary.
Here we go.


Day one.

Here I am. Trying to fit that last book into my suitcase and praying it will close. Mentally preparing for a ten-hour busride to London. I wasn't looking forward to it at all. The boys in my class don't like me. I don't like them. We don't get along. They throw things at me. I yell.
When we arrived at school I said goodbye to my parents and threw (gently layed it on his side) my suitcase in the bus. Unfortunately, the boys of my class were already in the bus. It was like I already knew shit was going to happen. Finally, when I sat down and found my place with my friend it was al quiet around me for a while. (Happiest ten minutes of my life.) Then, all the sudden, some of the boys started throwing candy at me. Not dry candy. Chewed-on candy.
Ofcourse, I, the idiot I am, don't do a thing. Although I was totally grossed out and wanted to punch them. I told a teacher. My shirt was ruined with stains. I didn't even TRY to get them out.
The rest of the busride was okay with me. The first day we only drove. A lot.
We meeted our host family. They were really nice people! Just a little weird sometimes, but funny-weird. We went to the home of the host-family. We had their food (Peas, pork, potatoes. The three P's?) and drinks, I must say, I was the only one who actually liked it. But I'll eat anything anywhere anyhow, so that doesn't count.
After dinner we went straight to bed. We had a room with two 'normal' one-person beds and a couch that you could stretch out to some sort of bed. The room was very small, I was so glad I didn't had to sleep in the couch-thing with somebody else (I would've stolen all of the blankets while I was asleep.) because that would suck.
The four of us talked all night. Well, not me, I'm the kind of girl that sleeps really fast, so I only talked 'till eleven o'clock or something like that.
Dozed off to a ton of dreams in my crappy bed.


Day two.

The school made a schedule for us with events I don't even like. On day two we had to visit the Tower of London and the Imperial war Museum (and a musical, that was the only fun thing.) which was pretty boring. We had to do all of these school assignments that went with the events so you couldn't even focus on one thing. Our busdriver dropped us off in such a crappy place that we had to walk over the Londen Bridge to the other side to the Tower of Londen all alone and in a huge amount of heat (17 degrees Celsius).
When we got there, it wasn't that impressing at all. Just some really expensive jewelry. So what?

Ahhh, the Imperial War Museum. Well, what can I say about that? It was boring. Almost every museum is. I lost my group of friends (Deja vu, just like in Disney world.) when I was watching what was on the helmet of one of the soldiers, I looked back and they were gone. When I found them back they were all mad at me for 'walking off' (I didn't! They did!) so I made up some lame excuse. After that we had the musical 'We Will Rock You' which was just great. Really good actors.

We went home. They were still mad at me. I doze off in yet another dream for the night.


Day three.

I was looking forward to this day, really, I was.
On the schedule: The London Dungeon and shopping at Oxford Street.
The London Dungeon was fun! (I was so scared, I swear to God, if that trip was any longer I probably pooped my pants.) That's all. Really good actors in there, too!
Oxford Street was crap. It was huge. And so much shops! When I first looked at it I was like: Alright, I have three hours. I will take my time, walk slowly, etc. (Yes. I truly walk slowly. I'm a very lazy person. Or some people call me smooth.)
But our teacher told us to whatever you do, don't walk alone or you WILL get lost. So I went off with my group of friends.
They were enthousiastic.
A bit.. too.. enthousiastic..
They.. practicly.. ran..
Shop-in, shop-out, it was crazy! 'I can't keep up with this for three damn hours!' I thought. And I was right. After an hour I had to throw up. It wasn't for the walking, I'm sure, I just wasn't feeling well all day.
(Great friends I have, I tell them I'm really not feeling well, and you know what they say? 'Oh, come on you big whimp, one more store!' Well who's the whimp now, huh.)
Than we went 'home'. I packed my bags and prepared once again for a ten-hour busride.


Day four.

We had great seats in the bus this time. Wasn't bothered by any of the boys.
Just a long busride, I'm glad to be home.
If you don't mind, I'll go take a shower now.


Goodbye for now.

Love,
Miranda.