“That would only happen to you, Lily.”
This is a phrase I hear frequently–for some reason, it appears my general existence strips people of their ability to be surprised when anything from breaking my own neck to stalking George Lucas in a mall (#neverforget) occurs. I like to take this as a compliment, whether or not it’s meant as one after I tell a long-winded story about a hilariously failed romance or another bodily injury.
This week, I was met with the comment on two occasions:
First was when I was triumphantly leading a group of 10 into the Tube station for the first time, instructing them to get off the Northern Line at Leicester Square, transfer to the Piccadilly Line and get off at Gloucester Road. I was prepared. Really prepared. Like, I-planned-this-route-over-Christmas-break prepared.
We ran up to the train. I stepped on and turned around to get the rest of the group boarded behind me when the door slammed shut, propelling solely me westward as I made an impulsively awkward “peace out” sign at my friends who were standing terrified on the platform. I was not prepared for this.
I spun around to the dozens of commuters who had witnessed this scene and tried to act like I didn’t just audibly swear in a clear American accent.
I survived the ride, as did my friends, thanks to easy-to-read transport maps and a particularly savvy girl in the group named Ally. When we reunited, we burst out laughing and it was determined that this situation would indeed only happen to me.
“What’s the second thing that would only happen to Lily?” you ask yourself as you
excitedly cling to my every word quickly scroll through looking for pictures.
There she is, my beautiful brand new Macbook with a tragically broken screen. If this picture doesn’t make you physically ill, well, maybe you’re not as obsessed with technology/plagued with first world problems as I am. If you’re wondering, yes it was caused by falling asleep watching Arrested Development. Somehow. I don’t know. Probably my hook hand.
Insert details of two trips to the Apple store and a very expensive repair here. Insert a defeated look at the Apple Genius here. Insert a nice Pakistani man I met waiting for the Apple Store to open here.
Anyway, all this to say week one of London has been incredible. Here’s a cheery picture of me dancing in front of Buckingham Palace to prove it!
Look for me in Nike’s next UK campaign.
Thanks for keeping up with me. Sorry I’m not as exciting as the Kardashians; my wooden plank-like human anatomy really limits me. Plus “Kily” doesn’t have a nice ring to it.
Until the next broken piece of technology/selfie,