Every single one's got a story to tell.

There was a boy on the bus who looked like Billie Piper, just you know, male. I just felt the need to point that out.

Ah my parents *shakes head* Yesterday they finally got their act together and I met them at the station to go to the Wimbledon Museum. They have these pass cards that gets them into all the museums and major attractions (and covers their travel) so they've pretty much done every single tourist thing you can think of in this city. I, on the other hand, have been to Tower Bridge (so neeuug!...yeah I don't know what I'm doing either). Point is, my dad seems to have taken the "potential things to do" as a list of destiny, and is jamming in as much crap as he possibly can (he's been running around like a headless chicken, I feel sorry for mum cause she's pretty much as sick as I am). Clearly he is mad. Regardless, Abs had to go back to work so I figured I might as well tag along with them. So yes, the Wimbledon museum. It's as exciting as it sounds. Ok, I'm mean. It wasn't bad. It was pleasant, requiring minimal effort. Since it was still early when we finished, we headed into town because they wanted to go to the Cartoon Museum. The time we spent trying to find the place was longer than the time actually spent inside it. It's not very big, but it was rather cool. So, as there was more time to kill and it was right across the road, we went to the British Museum too. Took lots of photos of broken Egyptian statues and Greek vases. Clearly it was museum day. But anyway, it all worked out nicely in the end. I ambled about Oxford street and met Abs after work, much hanging out (and meeting and greeting) occurred. Fun was had.

This morning it was again dealing with the parents. I'm beginning to wonder how they get anything done. Apparently, after I left them yesterday, they yet again got on a train going the wrong direction *shakes head* And here I was thinking they could read. I was meant to meet them at Warwick Ave station this morning so we could go on a canal cruise. First it took them epically long to get there, in which time I managed to have hot chocolate and a twix, and then it was revealed that the cruises don't run in winter. Epic. Fail. I was not amused. So my mum then decided she wanted to go to the Wetlands reserve. I was undecided over this for a while, since walking around in the cold while I constantly verging on coughing up a lung didn't seem too smart, but I was talked into it in the end. We had to navigate the maze of Paddington to get to Hammersmith before taking a bus. It was all very random. In the end, I can't say I was too wowed by the wetlands. There are only so many times I can be impressed by a duck. I convinced them we wanted lunch, and then my dad decided he wanted to go to Twickenham. I sent them on their merry way. Our next excursion will probably be Monday, to Stonehenge, if they manage to get it booked. Wait and see, I suppose.

Sigh.

Tonight, we're staying in. The flu infestation has gotten the better of us *shakes fist* Tomorrow, Twilight movie and christmas party!

I really should have bought chocolate on the way back. Feeble brain.

Music: Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes
Mood: Sickly