Now That She's Home Again, She Can Write The Longest, Most Tedious Entry EVER (And You'll Read It Avec Plaisir)

Thursday morning, 10:38 am. Norcross, Georgia. Last shower, Tuesday...morning (in another continent)?

Here's everything I didn't have time to write before:
MONDAY: I sprinted through the Atlanta airport to arrive just in time for AirTran #355 to be delayed 8 hours. We sat in the terminal for a while, then in the plane for a while, then back in the terminal for a while. AirTran paid for me to have a teriyaki salad from the airport O'Charleys. I hate O'Charleys.

Anecdote: While we were waiting in the plane (not going anywhere) I got up to go to the bathroom, and this lame-ass stewardess man announced that everyone should try to keep their seatbelts on. I got all the way to the bathroom, put one foot in the stupid door, and the steward got on the PA system again to say "that means you ma'am - please return to your seat." At that point, I turned around to look in the aisle, which was empty, and every single fucking passenger was turned around in his seat, staring at me. So then I said something like "Hi everybody" and sat back down. Thanks a lot, big dumb bitch flight attendant man.

Then my phone battery died, so my grandmother AND mother had separate but equal heart attacks by the time I got in at midnight.

TUESDAY: I saw Mike and Diet and Mike's friend at Columbia in the afternoon. We had some Indian food and renewed our love of racial slurs, sweet sweet racial slurs. Then in the evening, our flight to London was delayed two hours. I watched Monster-In-Law while we waited, which I saw for the first time on the afternoon before Dan Byrne's wedding. I think it's the first movie I went to alone. Not in a sad way. Stop crying.

WEDNESDAY: I slept all day and then I think had some tea?

THURSDAY: We shopped so much that I wanted to die. Don't go to Harrod's unless you:
a) are a millionaire
b) love looking at really nice things and then denying yourself them
c) are invisible and can turn everything you touch invisible, making it possible to steal a lot of crap from Harrod's
d) work there
e) are a jerk.
Then we saw The Producers. Stop crying.

FRIDAY: I don't remember. I think we had Lebanese food for dinner.

SATURDAY: We did...something, and then we had dinner at a restaurant that had a wall and ceiling of windows. I had two cosmopolitans and almost couldn't walk. Then we saw Billy Elliot and there was this tiny little Scottish boy in it. His big line is calling the boxing teacher a wanker.

Here is what happened when I told my mom about it:
Mom: You know what that means! Do you know what a wank is, Becky?
Becky: Yeah it-
Mom: It means penis.

fin

SUNDAY: Matt didn't want me to tape him and Ali in the middle of Pret A Manger, so I got mad and was cross all the way through the National Portrait Gallery.

Something I Learned About Myself:
I really, passionately hate going to museums with other people (more than one other person). There's no way to get the timing right, so you end up spending three hours in each stupid room, and then you eventually get in trouble for trying to bite the fifteenth picture of stupid Charles II you see with your dull, yellow teeth. GROSS.

I had to split off from the family and walk through Trafalgar Square (where a man asked if I was lost, if I was Australian, and if he didn't like my sunglasses, then asked if I was lost again).

MONDAY: Ali and I bought two tickets for the London Eye, England's largest sight-seeing ferris wheel. Then we had belgian waffles.

Then we ate at Gordon Ramsay and it was easily the best meal of my entire life.
Here were the courses:
-An assortment of little flaky pastry tubes that had either smoked salmon or avocado inside.
-Two very thin slices of fried potato, made into a sandwich with cream cheese scallion filling in between
-An eggshell filled with basil cream and white tomato mousse
-A tiny brioche with aubergine and tomato filling
-A blini with a few different types of caviar on it
-My appetizer, which was saddle of rabbit with this fried spoon with french mustard, liver and caramelized onions on the side, and a white wine that was recommended by the waiter to accompany it
-My entree, which was roasted pigeon with morels and a red wine that was also recommended
-A surprise creme brulee with a secret ingredient that we had to figure out. I thought it was basil, then Matt thought it was anise, then it turned out to be tarragon.
-An apple tarte tatin
-Some thin chocolate discs with apricot filling
-Small chocolate-biscuit cones with mango filling

I almost died.

Seriously.

TUESDAY: flight back to New York

WEDNESDAY: I sat around Columbia a little, almost got to see Tess, and flew back home after a mere hour delay this time. AirTran, you lovable scamp! I sat in the last row of the plane, in what would be the window seat if they had windows in rows that far back. I guess you can't put a window right next to the jet engine. The seat next to me was broken. I read three magazines.

Then Marta sucked a lot and mom brought Sparkey when she picked me up at the station, so I had to share the passenger seat with my dog on the way home. I almost threw up on him. I can never chew gum again. I need my wisdom teeth to be taken out. I'm still about to throw up. From what? I have no idea.

Here is what my brother and I sang as we walked through the airport when we got to London:
"He Is An Englishman" from HMS Pinafore

Here is what my brother and I sang as we walked through the airport when we got to New York:
I don't remember.
"Everybody Wang Chung Tonight?"
"Happy To Be In America?"

Who knows at this point? I'm back and that's that and hat pat on the rack!


Everything free in America, for a small fee in Amer-ee-ca!