BK girl hits LDN town

London.

She arrived in a flurry of goodbyes, heavy bags, miscalculated drop offs, layovers, parched tongues and salty drivers. But she certainly did arrive.

It all started at 4 p.m. in New York City where I settled into a very tight, very yellow, economy class seat in a Lufthansa airplane. I had done all that my dad, the seasoned traveler, suggested: light dinner (sammy and a delicious brownie), some sleeping drugs 30 minutes before take off, herbal sleeping drugs 15 minutes before take off, setting my watch five hours ahead (to get myself in the mood) and a sleep mask. Now if only I could have gotten my body to believe that, yes, 4 in the afternoon was sleepytime.

But the drugs kicked in and before I knew it a very dark 5 a.m. in Frankfurt rolled around. In a haze I found the general location of my next flight, set to leave in 2+ hours (the NYC flight landed oh so kindly ahead of sched). Nothing is open at 5 a.m. in the Frankfurt airport. And I couldn't even get into the waiting area to settle into an awkward sleep-standing snooze. I sat on the edge of a very dirt chair and munched on a peanut butter something rather i brought from the states (sweet heavenly pb treat).

I think the flight was delayed in the air, or so I gathered from the upset passengers surrounding me. I really could have cared less as I was passed out, drooling a little in my second very tight (now very blue) seat.

I arrived to a wonderfully sunny, surprisingly warm London day. I popped out of the car that picked me up and into one of those beautiful, tall, white and brick london homes. It's so very picturesque, with a blue door perched just steps form the thames. I was welcomed into the home by a quick talking cute blond girl, the daughter of the family, who was packing for uni. i was bleary eyed and had to catch up to what she was saying, with the accent and all, but she was lovely and her bounce was addictive. As luck would have it she had invited her grandparents over for lunch so she could see them before leaving that afternoon. One hour and one shower later the most English pair walked through that blue door - all tweed and clenched teeth. My goodness they were edible and lovely. They're chitter chatter practically lulled me to sleep - that or the cold meats and cheese. I napped, woke for a walk, ate again and slept so hard I would have thought a few years had passed.

The weekend has been a mix of strolling and getting. I'm slowly becoming a real working londoner, equipped with my very own oyster card - my way to get here and there on the tube - and a mobile! With my very own phone number, which I'm never going to remember. What's the deal with the (0) in these london numbers anyway? Do I dial it? Just it change the number? Is it like our ubiquitous (1) that isn't even necessary anymore? These are the things that keep me up at night.

I made dinner for my lovely host fam tonight, which, despite the slight overload of olive oil, seemed to go over well. Though I'm looking for a place of my own, I've unloaded a few of my things into a closet and am settled, in a way, here. I'm ready, at least, for my first day of BBC tomorrow. SO glad to have a purpose. After two weeks of lounging with Lola and then three days of meandering 'round London I wasn't sure what I was up to. Then it dawned on me, ah yes, work. Thank goodness. I've laid out my clothes for tomorrow and am getting up much earlier than necessary, which just means I'll give my snooze button a work out. I've packed by bag and if it weren't for this unsightly pimple I think I'd was a real person with a job.

Must get my beauty sleep.

More soon (and photes).

xoxoL