Procrastinating like whoa-and no pictures for you today. You'll live

So instead of trying to finish the stupid 2 page paper I've got for my Irish Cultural Studies Class, I'll finish the London update.
And put things off because that's what I do.

So. Day 3 began with a trip to the National Gallery. Lara and I were thinking of taking a river cruise, but after some disputing, I won and the Gallery was graced with our presence.

On another note-my roomie cooked me dinner. Curry chicked. Delicious. And smokey like all get out. We had to open a window and hang our heads out it as to not die. Of smokey-ness. I don't know what she was trying to do, but man oh man.
Results-pretty darn good.

Anyway

We spent a few hours at the Gallery looking at awesomely amazing paintings by Titian, Carravagio, Vermeer and Michaelangelo-just to name a few.

I forgot to mention the fantastic lunch we ate before that. Enchiladas of delicious that won't ever be beat.

To make a long and not terribly interesting story short and much more entertaining-we missed our flight.
Getting back to our hostel took like-hours. The London Underground is pretty straight forward unlike the National Rail Service, which we had to take to get back to our place (where our bags were). We left to get back at 5. The flight? 8:50. Seems like a reasonable amount of time.

Wrong.
After waiting for years for a train back to the hostel and then being on the Underground for what seemed like eons, we finally got to London Heathrow. At 8:15. Naturally they don't let us on the flight.
Ugh.

We get booked on the flight that leaves at 6:50 am the next morning. Double Ugh.
We go and book a hotel for the night on my suggestion. I figure we'll need a good night's sleep if we want to be remotely functional the next day.

Lara says "Let's take the Underground!!"
After giving her a dirty look, we get on, only to have it take nearly 90 minutes to get to the hotel. And then the hotel doesn't have our booking.
Just kill me now, right?
We wait in the hotel bar while they look for a room for us/the room we booked about 3 hours before.

There's a nice British lady who finds our booking, tells us room service is 24 hours, and sends us upstairs with a key. Thank God.

Meanwhile, this hotel has been invaded by Canada. I don't know what all the Canadians were doing there, but there had to be 50 of them. At least. Just thought I'd mention it. And a majority of them were wearing some article of clothing that identified them as Canadian. Also just a sidenote.

We get on our flight no problem the next morning. We get back to Ireland.
We have returned.
I'm sure if you ask me details, more questions I could come up with more stories about the weekend. But that's the jist of it right there.

ERGH. I tried to post (with pictures) and it wouldn't let me. Anyway. I'm doing fine. Despite homework.
The girls here keep this kitchen in a state fit for radioactive bugs. Food in the sinks, food leftover in pots, no one washes dishes, no one takes out the garbage, nothing...I never thought I'd see the day when I want to knock heads together and go "CLEAN THINGS".
I spend my life doing dishes and taking out the garbage. I went on a mini boycott and cracked.
Oh well. Rumour has it that one of the girls from India is totally cleaning the kitchen. Here's hoping.