London Calling, Pt. 2

I am currently in Spain, sitting in the oficina of my step-aunt and uncle. If this post contains several typos, I apologize in advance; i am having problemas with this keyboard.

anyway, i got in to spain at noon yesterday, and hadn´t slept since friday night-- and even that sleep was questionable. It was a whirlwind three days, involving meeting relatives I didn´t know I had (an unearthing daddy drama), going on a "magical pub discovery adventure" with a friend who hadn´t seen in 2.5 years, and getting crunked on the streets of LDN. Things I´ve learned:
- Brits don´t think it´s funny when you´re walking through the tube/subway station and start singing "America, Fuck Yeah! Coming again to save the muthafuckin´day, yeah!"
- Chips means "french fries." And, funny enough, actual potato chips are called ¨crisps."
- The customer is never right. The sassy attitude of the English server makes no apologies for f-ing up your order.
- You can not go walking around Notting Hill asking strangers where you can find Julia Roberts.
- The English lad epitomizes the word "strapping"-- you will never get osteoporosis on this side of the pond.
- The next time Brits start talking about fat Americans, remind them about the English breakfast: beans, toast, eggs, bacon AND sausage, roasted tomatoes and mushrooms. Seriously, all as on meal.
- I am indeed not black enough. When meeting my Nigerian relatives, the question of my "African side" was raised, as it was a bit upsetting to them that I interact with the white Other and had no Nigerian pals. If only they knew about my romantic life.....