I'm Tired

 Hello, assumed followers. I'm sitting on my extra-long twin bed typing to you while my roommate finishes up The Secret Agent. Everybody has struggled with reading that book. Many, like me, finished it on their flight over.

Speaking of my flight over. Leading up to my departure, I pondered the question of, if pulled aside for a random screening by the wonderful TSA, what enhanced screening technique I would choose: full-body scan versus pat-down. Well, turns out I didn't have to choose because I got to experience both! I kicked off my shoes, put my liquids in a separate container, removed my laptop and made my way to the metal detector. But no! I'm funneled towards the scanner and find myself facing a wall holding my hands behind my head while an agent tells me to stand really still. I'm then led to another pad with yellow footprints indicating where I should put my own feet and a female TSA agent points to her ear and says she's waiting to hear if I have anything on me...I guess from Big Brother. Then she asks if I'm wearing a belt. I say no and lift my shirt up a little to give her a visual aid. But that wasn't enough. She proceeds to feel around my waist before I'm released from the bowels of security hell.

The flight itself was fine. I was impressed with one lady who was already nodding off when I boarded the plane. Benadryl much? I finished my book and then watched "Unknown" in which Liam Neeson goes around kicking ass in Berlin. Not to be confused with "Taken" in which Liam Neeson goes around kicking ass in Paris. I got dinner and breakfast on that flight. It was so weird, I watched the sun slowly set in the middle of the flight and then it rose again by the end. The flight attendant made my day, though. He overheard Rachel and me talking about how we wish we were fluent in other languages. I said I knew some Spanish and he spoke to me in Spanish (albeit slowly so I could understand) the rest of the flight. The only downside was the sick and unhappy baby screaming for the whole descent. And the guy behind me kept inadvertently (or at least, I hope so) playing footsie with me. Dude! Respect the bar under my chair. You do not cross it.

Rachel and Sydney on the Tube

The next adventure was the Underground or the Tube or whatever Britain calls its Metro. There was a stop right at Heathrow so we jumped on with our all luggage in tow. The first ride on the Piccadilly line was no problem. It was transferring lines when the trains were semi-full that was the challenge.  I didn't make the cut. The door shut on my bag in front of me so I just yanked it out and waited alone for the next one. This was after we had dragged our bags up and down flights of stairs because their friggin' "lifts" were out of order. Stop trying to be the Metro, already. Oh, I also saw a lady fall down at the end of the escalator and people scrambling to push the emergency stop button. That wasn't good. But the first line I was on, the Piccadilly, had the craziest destination. It was "Cockfosters". I grinned everytime the announcer said it. Never got old.

The View from my dorm room

Finally got to Regent's College after walking around Regent's Park for a bit and getting turned around. The Park would have been more beautiful if I hadn't been dragging my stupid luggage around! But I also saw a gazillion scooters (ok, only a lot). Keith would fit in here. I had to carry my stupid luggage up two flights of stairs because this school doesn't even have lifts. grrrr. Then I wandered around Baker Street with a classmate. We both got sim cards. I'm trying to get used to paying for things in pounds and whatever the coins are called, but mostly I hand over some cash and hope for the best.

The accommodations. They only give us a duvet. It's like Mary Poppins

So this feels like the longest day ever. I want to take a nap but I know as soon as I fall asleep I won't wake up until tomorrow. I haven't slept since Friday night. It's Sunday afternoon here. Mindf***.