Utter. disaster.

Yes, my day has been a complete and utter disaster (save the fact that I finally met up with an old friend).

Almost everything has gone wrong. Very badly wrong.

It all started out this morning. Quite regularly enough. I woke up early with a nice cup of tea from my host. Got my things together, got ready...and walked over the bus station for my trip over to Newcastle. I was on time, it was a beautiful day, I was trying to figure out if it was auspiciuos that it was so beautiful just as I was leaving Edinburgh, or inauspicious. Later I decided, quite firmly, that it was the latter.

Cut over to me finally sitting on the bus, making it about five minutes before its departure. I made a brief stop at this store I saw and bought to shirts for the price of $10. Almost left my discman there, but ran back and got it. Phew, I thought. If I only knew.

So, yes, on the bus. I do a mental check for all my belongings. Wallet--check, camera--..., camera--..., camera. Where is my camera?

Remember how excited I was about my pictures from Arthur's Seat, from Glasgow, from Edinburgh? I was so paranoid about my camera all through my trip down the mountains, I checked for it every two minutes. But, when I got home, I dashed out shortly after to see a movie, somehow coming to the conclusion that I had left the Nikon 3700 Coolpix, roughly $400 digital camera ($500 at Best Buy)...at my host's house.

Apparently not so. After frantically emptying my backpack and bag, dropping half its contents all over the bus, having strangers stare at me, sweating and I'm sure psychotic looking...I contemplated jumping off the bus and going back to check. However, my host was at work, so it would be nearly futile and unproductive, as well as a waste of money. Remember, $12 in the bank? Well, I couldn't even access my account in Newcastle...because of "insufficient funds."

Everything seems to be coming to a head.

My host tried searching everywhere for my camera, but I kept getting text messages back from him: "Looked everywhere, don't see it =("...

And every time my stomach dropped.

I mean, the camera could honestly be anywhere, somewhere in the fields or mountains of Edinburgh, in the car of that stranger who gave me a ride, at my hosts house in some hidden nook or crany...I could have subconsciously thought I'd taken it out of my pocket but really left it there and lost it in the theater...then I kept imaging all the careless ways I had dragged my coat about town--it could have fallen out anywhere if I had unwittingly left it in my pocket. I mean, normally when travelling I am anal to the extreme about keeping my camera in my bag or keeping an eye on it. But yesterday, I was working with someone else's schedule, not my own (per usual)...so I was rushign to preven them from being late...and just threw my stuff down, without doing the normal mental check. I knew there was a reason I've been so apprehensive about my camera lately. Much more than usual.

Anyway, I've had my phone off because I stupidly forgot to bring the proper adapter...so, now it is running on basically no battery. I need to use my phone to contact the people I will be staying with for the next week and a half; otherwise, I am homeless. I will probably try buying an adapter sometime this weekend...Anyway, of course, something like this happens when I have nearly no battery power left on my phone nor enough money in the bank.

I probably should have arranged to fly out of Manchester or York into Dublin...because now I have to somehow get to Liverpool and the days are just wasting away. I have so many places I want to go to...but now, without a camera, I've lost a majority of my motivation...

Even though I bought the camera with the money I earned working all of last summer (just in August, it was basically new)...I don't know what I'm going to tell my parents...Today they've both been sending me angry emails, upset with the fact that I am travelling so much instead of sitting on my a** in Paris. They want me to send them detailed reports of my whereabouts...frankly, I'm already quite pissed off with myself and everything as it is. I don't need another thing to worry about. And all this just adds to the stress I'm already experiencing...I honestly don't know what I'll tell them...plus...all those pictures...all those pictures...they are lost forever...

The "you're so stupid" theme song is on repeat in my head...and if I try and forget about everything and enjoy the day...well, I keep admonishing myself for even being able to crack a smile. Every beautiful scene is bittersweet with emphasis on the bitter.

If one more bad thing happens. That is it. Back to Paris, back to Edinburgh (to search through the city), back to the USA. Back to some safety where I can sit in sullen depression all day.

I don't know what it is about bad things happening to me and stuff. But, whenever something seriously bad happens, I automatically think of contacting Jack. Perhaps because that was the norm before, and he always used to make me feel better...now that feeling is just an added torment to everything else.

I feel like such crap. Wait, I am a piece of crap. My stupid self. I have this horrible taste in my mouth: shame. disappointment. anger. extreme sadness.

I think that's it. I'm just gonna stop sightseeing now. Just stop it all. Go out, drink myself into oblivion...and come back another time. I mean, I freaked out last June when I nearly lost one glove in New York. This is too much.

Gosh I hate myself.