Rush Hour

This is what the Canary Wharf tube station looks like at 6pm on a weekday. Notice the suicide-proof glass protecting the train tracks from commuters who can't take it anymore.

On Wednesday I was almost one of those commuters. Fortunately Pete lured me down from the ledge with offerings of an iPod earphone. All it took was one earful of Steeleye Span to appease my toddler-like suffering.

First Day of School

Today I started work in London. Ask yourself, should any day begin without a hot breakfast -- let alone the first day of something? Absolutely not.

Before skipping off to work, Pete and I met up with Kate (sister of Pete) at EAT, a trendy, swift-service eatery that boasts such breakfast novelties as "porridge" and "tea". You can get a Full English breakfast for 2.7 GBP if you're feeling ambitious.

Credit for best discovery of the day goes to Pete for finding us a flat that has a bedroom that is separated from the living room and kitchen by an entire floor to ceiling wall AND a door, which we can afford, and which is a 5 min train ride from my work. We move in on Monday.

We've been in London since Saturday night. Pete had paid a holding deposit on the flat by lunchtime on Monday. He is most efficient. Fingers crossed luck will continue and he will find excellent job...must buy Survival Furniture etc.

How to be Cheap

Recently a college friend, who is known for being careful with his money, has confessed to me that in 2003 he spent a total of $42. About half went to a bicycle helmet, and he spent some on a box of pancake mix. Eight of these dollars were spent on a train ticket to visit me in the summer when we were home from school.

It is likely the case that never will anyone devote such a high percentage of their annual expenditures on me.

I plan on sleeping in

For the past week I've been living the life of a Stay At Home Daughter. My responsibilities have included visiting family, shopping, and finding my mother's handbag, car keys, or cell phone, one of which she loses every time we attempt to leave the house. I also have to maintain the web of lies my mother has created regarding her purchase of a 10 lb box of blueberries, her second such purchase in 2 weeks. I'm not a very good liar, but Celeen was adamant that Randy not realize the 10 lb box of blueberries in the fridge was in fact purchased by my mother for consumption in their home. This is one of the most sane requests my mother has ever asked of me in my entire life, ever.

My privileges have included sleeping at any time of day or night for any length of time, and eating handful after handful of blueberries.

Family Vacation

My parents were pretty broke up about me not being able to take a family vacation with them this year. See, I have a job and I'm expected to show up nearly every day. Somehow family vacation has fallen low on list of priorities, which is inevitable but a little sad. Especially since this year my younger brother has become almost completely human.

There are certain conventions that appear during every trip my family has taken, and each family member plays his or her part convincingly. We become caricatures of our normal at-home selves and each of our personality quirks becomes embellished in light of all the constant togetherness.

My brother travels under two alternating nicknames: Buttons and Mr. Thirsty. The former because there is no dial, button, lever or switch within his arm's length that is safe from his manual manipulation and the latter because he can drink his weight in water at a single meal.

Randy is known as Pockets. Each time he is called upon to retrieve an element that is crucial to the progress of our trip, be it visa, passport, credit card, reading glasses, map, etc. he panics and fondles every pocket on his person until he remembers he left it at that hotel we stayed in 2 nights ago before we took the overnight train to the city 800 miles south of the city where said crucial document is lying in some hotel room safe my brother programmed but has since forgotten how to open.