on monday, purely for something to talk about back at work on tuesday, so as to not be shamed into 'wasting' a long weekend (don't know how watching an entire season of orange is the new black could be considered a waste, but anyway), boyfriend and i finally showered and left our house for the first time since saturday morning. wanting to avoid the carnival crowds, but still do something 'worthwhile' and 'cultural', we headed to south kensington; museum bound.



believe it or not, but in the (almost) three years i've lived in london, i've not been to any of the museums. well, one - but i paid no attention. you wanna know why? because i think museums are boring. there, i've said it. and i feel guilty about it. irregardless, i stubbornly convinced boyfriend that it would be a nice day out, and so out we went. by the time we'd left the house just after midday though, we (me) had been bickering all morning, storming around doing all the chores we'd (stupidly) left til the last minute, and i was firmly in the throws of 'giving the silent treatment'. i also decided, two minutes from the station, that i wasn't happy with my outfit, and made him come back with me while i changed. it was all going really well, wouldn't you agree?




we started at the V&A because i'd heard good things. except, the good things i'd heard were about the exhibitions, that we weren't prepared to pay for. "productive saturdays" as they're known, are meant to be free. granted, it was monday, but same rules apply. we walked around a bit, looking at all the old clothes and artifacts, and yeah, some of it is quite cool and old and interesting and stuff, but generally... it's not all that. we were there - i kid you not, maybe an hour and a half.




and this is the worst blog post ever.
happy saturday!