Christmas Bloody Chaos

If you're ever in London around Christmas time--and by all means, do it at some point (it's nearly comparable in cool to New York)--for the love of God, AVOID OXFORD CIRCUS three days before Christmas. And presumably two days and one day before as well.

I wanted to either die temporarily or strangle someone, since it was so crowded with shoppers. And I recall Natalie saying, "Boy, you're an erratic walker." (She didn't actually say, "Boy.")

Want to know why I'm an erratic walker? Because tourists are erratic stoppers, and I find myself getting really huffy and manic about walking around their googly-eyed selves when I'm trying to get somewhere.

I realised there was such a miserable vibe in central London last night--just ridiculous stress that people put themselves under to make the holidays happen. People were bumping into each other without saying, "Sorry" (shockingly un-English), getting huffy, swearing and muttering under their breath--and you expect it in a big city, but Londoners are usually more orderly and polite than people in, say, New York, so it was a bit of a stinker.

This break is going to be a little marvel, I think. Two weeks off. Two weeks. And that's just the mandatory office closure over the holidays. British people get paid for this. Can you believe it?

Off to the comforts of the country (sort of) tomorrow, and then I return home and show my American friends the wonders of London. I'm sure I will have decompressed and become a little less cynical by then.

I do love this city.