The Travelogue (1 of ?)

Not much to report about the flight over.  I was sitting in a side aisle seat, next to an older Englishman who lives in the country.  (Before we landed, he tied a cravat around his neck, which was just so ... older Englishman who lives in the country.)  He didn't like flying so coped with it by ordering two drinks (both whisky), tossing them back in quick order, and falling right to sleep.

(Which plan I might emulate on long flights in the future -- but I didn't think drinking was a good idea as I was packin' Nyquil.)

The problem with the slightly-drunk sleeping Englishman is that he wasn't as respectful of his neighbor's personal space as your standard Awake Englishman would be.  So he was sleeping on the armrest, leaning into my shoulder, with his legs leaning into my space such that I had to bend myself into all sorts of interesting positions so as not to actually touch knees with the man.  (And when I glanced over at him and saw his hand resting on his, er ... his ... his ...  well, I just thought, "it probably means nothing, but eww.")  So I asked the flight attendant if there was another vacant seat, she took one look at the fine representative of the UK to my left, and said she'd see what she could do.

Five minutes later I was in the next cabin, stretched out across three unused center seats, and doing an approximation of napping.

(I couldn't ACTUALLY sleep.  I had some damn song running through my head I couldn't get rid of, and I didn't bring any music I could've played to drown it out.)

So ... got here with less rest than I generally like, did my usual Run Through Immigration and Customs (first in line!  Yay me!) and found my lovely hotel.

And a note re: 52

And if anyone here is reading my fictional Beta journal -- it apparently won't get updated till I get back.  (Despite my having written a couple entries and e'd them to myself for later posting.)   I can't get the beta journal to come up on IE here, so you'll just have to wonder what our hero did to get back at the kids on Tuesday.

(If you're curious -- yes, my 8th grade Geometry class did that once.  Not to a sub, though.  Somewhere, I have a photograph.)

In brief (ha) 2 of ?

So this trip is something of a flashback to my older self, and -- actually -- the Journey of Self Discovery has already begun.  When I unpacked.  See, when I packed the other day, I packed everything I generally pack for a cold London Theatre trip -- wool skirts, wool pants, wool sweaters.  (There's a theme.)  And, when unpacking, I discovered that, with the exception of a lovely little Merino wool turtleneck I picked up in New Zealand (which, really, I should've bought in every color), I don't wear any of this stuff anymore.  It isn't ME.  I'm thinking of all the other cold-weather-gear back in my closet and wondering why I didn't pack any of THAT.  It's like I associate London with those clothes, and associate both with the type of person I used to be. 

(Is this making sense?  I got about ... no sleep on the ten hour flight, so I don't even want to think about how long I've been awake.)

In brief (ha) 3 of 3

ANYWAY, when I was planning the trip -- which will basically have me here through the weekend -- I booked four plays, left one day open for the fifth (long story -- the show is sold out but I thought I could try the cancellation line -- or, as they say over here "queue up for returns") and one day to visit a friend who lives a few hours outside of London.

And when I got here, part of my mind started spinning over what OTHER plays I could see (advantage London theatre has over New York theatre:  they don't have a "standard" matinee day, so I could see two shows every day if I plan the schedule right).  And this other part of me --

the part the zorbed, and colored my hair, and likes sometimes wearing my hair straight, and wants to white-water raft again, and thought "geez, I don't want to wear that sweater I used to wear in High School" --

THAT part, said, "dude, stop.  There's lots more to see in London than more plays."  So, now I'm trying to look into some OTHER stuff to do.  I'm not sure what, yet, but I'm sort of excited about NOT visiting my same favorite three or four museums, and instead finding something a little more my (current) style.

Of course I'll still keep using the internet.  THAT part will never change.

In brief (ha) (1 of ?)

I probably should have explained something about me going to London before I left.  There wasn't nearly the excitement over this trip as there was over New Zealand because this is a short trip and I've kind of done it before.  Kind of a few times.  I come; I see plays; I have tea; I leave.  This is sort of my standard "old form" type of vacation, which I've done on a semi-regular basis to some place that has lots of plays (generally London or New York) -- pretty much until a trip to Australia (which, for the record, involved theatre) changed everything when I innocently took a one-day cruise in the Great Barrier Reef, and decided that maybe, just maybe, there's more to vacations than sitting in dark rooms with several hundred other people being entertained.

Well, that was one hell of a run-on sentence, but you get the idea.  This is standard Old-Form Vacation.  I planned this trip because fares were really cheap and I still ENJOY theatre trips, but, frankly, between you and me, I don't think I'll be doing them nearly as often.  Two reasons for this:  First, being a (part-time) theatre critic now requires me to see a heck of a lot of plays in L.A., so going to theatre while I'm on vacation doesn't seem quite as appealing.  Second, y'know, New Zealand.  Way fun.  No plays. 

A new record!

I finished packing!  It is before 11:00 p.m.  Actually, it would be amazing if I'd finished packing anytime before 1:00 a.m.  People procrastinate different things -- I procrastinate packing.  Hugely. 

But I made serious strides what with being home sick.  I did all my laundry over the past few days AND I packed up the "bathroom bag" two days early.  Go me!

And, from the Department of Learning From My Mistakes, I have packed the "bathroom bag" in my carryon.  With some nightclothes too.  So, next time I get separated from my luggage, I'll be ... less unprepared!

Two Slightly-Related Oscar Comments

Item:  Johnny Depp just went up hugely in my esteem.  Showed up, dressed nice, spoke articulately (rather than his usual slightly-stoned delivery, which I'd always thought was an act), and said respectful things when asked stupid questions by Pre-Show Guy.  Also handled himself quite well when aforementioned Pre-Show Guy dragged Keisha Castle-Hughes over to meet him.  (Which, again, was a really stupid thing for Pre-Show Guy to do.  I mean, what's Castle-Hughes supposed to do?  Drool and say, "You're really hot"?  I mean, it's one thing for a thirteen-year-old to want to meet a cool movie star, and another for her to actually meet him in front of a world-wide audience.)  And Depp managed to come up with something really nice about how he liked her work (and I'm thinking, "wonder if he even saw Whale Rider"), and he kept the conversation from sounding as terribly awkward as it must have been for the ten or fifteen seconds they had a camera on them. 

Item:  OK, exactly who wrote Will Ferrell's introduction?  Because I'm fairly certain that when Billy Crystal announced him as "Everyone's favorite elf," the 13-year-old female viewing population said, as one, "I think not."