So our first real weekend just passed a couple days ago here at Harlaxton. And it was amazing. We went to London...again. I think we're obsessed with that place. I know I am at least.

We walked. And walked. And walked some more. It rained. And rained. And rained some more. I was going for the country hick look with my pants rolled up. We tried to go to the changing of the guard. It was very crowded, and then...it rained. Big surprise?? Nah. So really, we didn't see anything. But hey, it's cool to say we were there right?

And then there's the underground system. I don't know what it is about that place, maybe there are some secret poppy's hidden there, but whenever I step onto the platform I start yawning. It's uncontrollable. I get so unbelievably tired whenever I'm there. I'm actually yawning right now typing this.

We went to the club. Ohhhhh, the club. That story should get an entire post to itself, but it won't. It was a very weird experience, and not exactly what we were looking for, but oh well. Then as usual we went for fourth meal. We are hungry, starving Americans ALL the time. So naturally, being the Kentuckians we are, we went to KFC. Don't judge. And can you believe there is no ranch dressing?????? Oh no, my life will not be complete for four months with the absence of ranch and grape gatorade.

Then these two men at KFC pointed at me and motioned for me to come over. And they asked me to explain ranch dressing to them. How does one go about explaining the beautiful taste of ranch? So of course, all I could say was that "it's good." Literally, that's all I could say. And I also described it as "creamy." So I basically morphed into Old Gregg at that moment. Then they started talking about politics. The very last thing that I want to talk about. So I told them that I don't like politics (which is true). So a conversation about ranch and politics?? WEIRRRRRD. But they were nice.