post-ironic quotation marks

Slightly neurotic (but cute!) singleton looking for adventure, finical stability, and some delusion of meaning. With much thought in the topic of sincerity and the occasional film review.

Thursday, December 29, 2005

I arrived in London without any luggage. Funny, because I distinctly remember placing my boarding pass in a duffle bag that was being checked, and had been checked, as soon as saw that I was holding my STA itinerary and not the thing I needed to get onto the plane.

Dulles is a horrible, horrible air port. Sane people should never travel there. Ever. Oh Logan, you took forever to get to, but at least I spent most of the two hour time waiting around the terminal board rather than panicking to check in because the line was so long, I doubt it would even be possible to describe it, except by time. An hour and twenty minute line, and I eventually got placed in the shorter one, as everyone else on my flight started panicking, and if there's anything that spreads faster than panic, it's a way to escape the hell that is queuing.

But, after dealing with that, and a few minutes in customs, I go down to the baggage claim to see that I have nothing to claim. Nothing. Looking over, I see a line of customers at the United counter, so it wasn't stolen. Just put on the later flight. I think that I won brownie points with the fellow travelers by explaining that 1) I lost both my bags, and that 2) I'm staying here for at least five months. So, now I'm lolling about Heathrow airport for a few hours. At least I miss the joy of taking my caravan of luggage on the tube during the morning rush hour. I would hate me. Never mind the people who are just trying to get to work. Justified homicide, much.

Don't know what I'm going to do for the rest of the day. Start the job hunt I guess.

I arrive at the apartment at 1 o'clock. Was suppose to be there at nine. Spent the rest of the time on-line doing that apartment/job hunting thing and sleeping. It's not the jet lag, it's the having been up for more or less 24 hours (and I couldn't sleep on the plane), and it was all that I could do to keep my eyes open. Almost fell asleep on the heathrow express, which would have been funny.

Right now, London is cold. I think that the heater works, but I can't feel a thing, and I'm wearing two sweaters. Going to go across the street to the grocery store after dinner. Mmmm, snack food...


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