Social Media Envy is Real...But it Shouldn’t Be

Here’s Why...

How many times have you found yourself looking at someone's Facebook or Instagram feed, thinking, “that person’s life is amazing,” or “they are the luckiest people in the world”? If you said no, you’re lying. Social media envy is real, and no one is immune to it. 

I love sharing the things that I do in my travels because it’s a way for me to share some updates - and hopefully provide some entertainment along the way. I will continue to do that until my family and close friends tell me to stop. So, if you saw my Insta-story yesterday, you’d think I had the most perfect day in London strolling down memory lane in one of my favorite cities in the world. 

However, while yesterday did include some amazing things, that perception couldn’t be further from the truth. Here’s the real story...

After a quick 45 minute flight from Amsterdam, I found myself at London City Airport for a long weekend of fun to catch up with friends, shop, and ring in the New Year. Upon landing I headed straight for the tube and jumped on towards the first stop where I could connect to the District/Circle Line. About 30 mins into the ride I go to make my transfer only to find most of the Distrct/Circle Line is closed. Ok, fine. I can take the Piccadilly Line to get where I need to go. No biggie. So I begin to backtrack. About an hour and a half later I arrived in South Kensington. The whole trip should have taken 45 mins.

Unshaken by this slight delay, I continue on my way to my AirBNB. The light rain is quickly turning into a full on downpour and the wind is picking up, but I continue on my 5 min walk until my umbrella complete craps out and my walk turns into a jog, with my rolling bag in tow. 

I said AirBNB before, but I really meant HomeAway. I decided to try that for the first time. Big mistake. The key collection was supposed to take place at the reception desk of the residential building I was renting in, but the address led me to a dinky looking hotel. I asked the receptionist if I was in the right place and she said yes, they manage the short-term rentals for the building, which is actually across the street. I can’t check in until 2pm (it’s about 9:30am), but I can store my bag here. Ok, fine. 

I left my bag and was on my way. 

I started the day with a stroll through the neighborhood I lived in when I interned in London. And then the plan was to meet up with a friend, who was bringing another friend, at Harrods for tea. (I know there are way better places for high tea in the city but I love Harrods and I love high tea and I love high tea at Harrods!). Anyway, unfortunately my friend had to cancel and since I didn’t know her other friend, she canceled too. So, tea for 3 became tea for 1, which really is just not as fun as tea for 2+. I actually don’t mind traveling on my own, although I haven’t done it since I moved to Europe. That said, there are certain things that are just better to do with friends or a significant other. Tea is one of them. 

But how bad could my life be? I’m in London, indulging in a feast at Harrods for God’s sake! Please, just read on. 

Throughout the afternoon I’m texting with my friend Hallie, whose birthday we are going to celebrate on Sunday at her NYE party! I made a rash decision Thursday to purchase tickets to see the new production of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child via StubHub because the tickets were guaranteed to arrive by Friday and the shows were on Saturday. No problem, right? Hallie graciously allowed me to send them to her place because I didn’t want to send them to the rental apartment address, unsure of what the mailbox access situation would be. The tix were supposed to arrive by 1pm. Well, just guess if they came...

So now I’m frantically trying to get in contact with StubHub and Royal Mail. The irony here is that I didn’t even want to see this show! It’s opening in NY in a few months and my sister tried to pin down a date for when I’d be in town next so we could get tickets because it’s literally the new hottest ticket in town. Now, unfortunately I do not share her or anyone else’s enthusiasm for the Wizarding World. An avid reader as a child, this was one of few books where I stoped midway through, put it down and never picked it back up. I read on a few chapters because I felt bad for poor Harry. He was like a modern day, British, male version of Annie and I couldn’t close the book until I knew he was out of the clutches of his evil aunt and uncle - who made him sleep in a closet - and safe at school.

So why on earth did I get tickets to the show, which, in case you didn’t know is told in two parts, so is a good 5-hour commitment? Good question. I’ll let you know when I’ve come up with an answer. 

By this point it’s almost 7:30pm, I’ve been out all day and my phone is near death, so I head back to South Ken and figure I’ll sort the ticket sitch out once I can power up my laptop. On the way to the apartment I got sidetracked by a nail salon and popped in. I now have beautiful nails, but it’s after 8 and I’m hungry again. I don’t want anything fancy, but I do want something I can’t get at home or don’t eat often. Naturally that left me with fish and chips! I popped into a well-known place that serves a delicious variation of the dish. After waiting 15 mins for someone to take my order, I’m told “Sorry love, we’re all out for today.” Whaaaat? How do you run out of fish and chips? In London? I left and went to the pub across the street and had - what was quite possibly - the worst fish and chips I could’ve possibly had in the city. 

But there’s a very bright light at the end of the tunnel. Next stop is bed and tomorrow will be a lot better. I swing by the hotel (if you can call it that), pick up my key and bag, drag my suitcase across the street, open the door, and start to climb the stairs because there’s no lift, even though it said there was one online. Actually, I’m starting to realize it said a lot of things online and the pictures did not match what I was seeing. It actually is starting to look like one of those buildings you see in the movies where there’s someone shooting up meth in each stairwell as you ascend.

Great. This is really great. But I haven’t reached my apartment yet, so maybe, just maybe, it looks like the modern, normal apartment I saw in the pictures? Especially because I’m not a novice at renting apartments! I use Airbnb all the time! I swipe the card key, hold my breath and...nope. State of the apartment matches the state of the building. Fantastic.

I should have left right then and there, but it was late, I was exhausted, all my friends who live in London are hosting other family and friends right now, I knew I was in one of the safest areas of the city, and after a thorough bed bug check, I concluded the apartment was fine to sleep in. I really wanted a shower and to go to bed, except upon inspection of the bathroom, I quickly concluded that was not possible for reasons I wish not to explain.

Determined to at least sort this ticket situation out for tomorrow and look into new lodging options, I popped open my laptop and tried to connect to WiFi. No such luck. And the service on my phone was poor. And the outlets didn’t work, so I had to conserve phone battery. So, I just went to bed.

About 5 minutes later, my eyes shot open. The room was about 7,000 degrees and I literally could not breath. It was like I went to bikram yoga, laid down my mat and decided to take a nap. After hunting down the thermostat, and discovering it was stuck, I went to open up a window. It was raining out again. And now it was raining in the room. I felt like — SPOILER ALERT FOR THE CROWN — Prince Charles on his first night at that horrid school where the rain comes in and soaks his bed. After pushing with all my might, I was able to move the bed away from the window. And finally, go to bed. 

In the middle of the night I was jolted out of sleep by the fire alarm. For one split second this exact thought ran through my mind: “This is it. This is how it ends. I’m on the top floor and I’m going to have to jump out the window if the fire is below me. I won’t be seeing my friends this weekend, my family again. I won’t make it to ring in the New Year, and I’m certainly not making it to Harry Potter now.” Then I got up and did everything they tell you not to do in case of a fire. Put on my clothes, shoes and threw my belongings in my bag. I did reach for the door first to feel it was warm. All good. So I crept down the stairs, which had no sign of a fire - just the smell of something burning. 

As the fire trucks pulled up, the firefighters rushed in, and the rain soaked the handful of building tenants now on the street at 4:15am, I pulled out my phone and booked myself a room in a very nice hotel for the following evening. Thank you, Hotels Tonight. 

Once the building was cleared - some idiot burned a piece of toast and fell asleep with it in the toaster - everyone crept back in. I laid there waiting for the sun to rise, grabbed the rest of my belongings and got the hell out of there. HomeAway will be receiving a not-so-nice complaint from me soon. 

I am happy to report the following has happened in the last 12 hours:

- Checked into new hotel, showered, napped

- Acquired new tickets from StubHub at their pickup office in London (originals were never delivered) 

- Made some fantastic and fun purchases 

- Thoroughly enjoyed Part 1 of Harry Potter. Seriously. It’s great!!! The storyline is not too bad, the acting is superb, especially the guy who plays Scorpius and the special effects are amazing! To all my friends seeing it in NYC when it comes over, especially my sister, you’re in for a treat! 

Gotta go enjoy Part 2...

Cheerio from London!