London Baby!

Friday 10:06AM. London, England.

So I desperately walked around EVERYWHERE yesterday trying to find that amazing hat Joey wears in the London episode to take a "London baby!" selfie, but came up empty. Over sixteen miles my tracker said.... "desperately" was an accurate word to use.

Currently I'm Carrie Bradshaw, typing a column in a coffee shop, asking questions about life, curly blonde hair mess and all. So just imagine SJPs voice when reading this:

"Why is Kylie so negative and bitter?"

There's this adorable kid in my room, Evan. Fresh out of high school, bright eyed bushy tailed, and wants to genuinely get to know everyone who walks by him. He asked me about my travels and Iceland specifically. And I'm honest when I say the city of Reykjavik was shite. And he says, "Wow. I love how honest you are about your travels. I went for a bike ride and told everyone what a great journey it was and how I saw so many amazing things. But the truth is that it was pouring rain, I got lost, and fell off my bike. It was a pretty miserable day."

There you go folks... stealing optimism from young souls... one country at a time.

Keeping up with the misery, I tripped THREE times in public yesterday. I'm sorry, "tripped" is not the right word. "Stumbled and fell to the ultimate hell of embarrassment" would be a better description of how useless of a human I was yesterday. Each time was the kind of fall that just never ends. Every attempt to recover just made it keep going until all hope of self worth is left on the pavement like a dead pigeon.

In between the humiliation, I saw some lovely things:

Yea, this horse was not happy to be standing still for an hour...