Ah, yes, I had a realization, that I wrote about in my real journal. I will transcribe it here. Its melodramatic, but it was what I was feeling, kind of, I took some liberties.

"Everything felt slow in London. Which was silly, really, it was a huge cosmopolitan city, modern and ancient with a reputation that was hard to put in words. Still she found plenty to criticize. The underground took too long, too spread out, weird restaurants, too expensive (the metro was 8 dollars!) They drove on the wrong side of the road, the guys at the store couldnt understand her accent.

But these were stupid reasons. All of them. Because for every Greek, or Pakistani, couldnt understand her American accent first time around, there were 100s more in France who would never understand her butchered French.

She realized that she resented London. She felt let down. It should be Heaven, after all. Signs in English? British accents? Peanut butter? But that fact was, she was still a tourist, just like everyone else cluttering Picadilly Circus, Parliament, and the London Eye.

Home for now, she realized, was France"