I have arrived!

Yesterday was probably the longest day in eternity. For Katie and I, August 31 started out at 7:15 am, which was a rather relaxed morning, and then at 12 noon we headed off to the airport for our 4:30 pm flight. After 10 hours of flying, we landed at London Heathrow at 10 am on September 1st with little to no sleep. But, of course, we couldn't afford to loose a day in London, so we treked on until 9 pm. We wandered about the city, had a traditional pub dinner, complete with a tasting of ales and then crashed into our bed as soon as possible. This made for a busy 31 hour day, to which I say "blagh."

Since I couldn't be bothered to haul out Gwenyth on the flight, I instead decided to keep a diary in a small journal that I can tote around. So, here's yesterday's entry:

August 31, 2006

Katie and I have just settled down on the plane. She, with the help of Prince Valium, is already drooling out of the side of her mouth. Every few moments she opens her blood shot eyes to give me a fearful glare. She’s terrified of flying, which is pretty much a result of Paul’s tactfully designed torture from our childhood.

When we were nine her parents made the mistake of leaving the two of us, and her two younger sisters, on a flight alone with him. At some point we hit a patch of turbulence and it was at this juncture that he had the opportunity to inform her of the more insidious dangers of flying. In the end all three were scarred with the image of the small commuter jet sailing toward the ground like a 200-ton brick, while shattered windows reduced passengers to wet noodles.

Now, Katie’s eyes have rolled back in her head and hopefully she sleeps in a peaceful Soma coma.

Earlier, while I was stowing my bags in their proper compartment, our in flight neighbor took his seat. As I bent down to take my seat he outstretched his hand with a big-eyed overzealous grin and I forced myself to choke down a giggle. We had been parked next to the embodiment of all Courtney’s warning tales for European travel, the young eager straight Italian male. I almost felt bad for him; he was trying so hard without any luck at all. Little did he know that we had been prepared for just such an occasion; nod, smile, and then pretend to be asleep.

We are near landing. Thank god. Neither of us have actually slept much, although I managed a few minutes here and there. Mostly, due to my tactic against the Italian stallion, but Katie made the unfortunate mistake of opening her eyes to catch his longing gaze. I am sure she could have used some back up, but I didn’t want to ruin blowing my cover and for extra protection I darned the oh-so-wonderful eye mask provided by the lovely people of British Airways. Over the course of the flight, Katie was treated to the tales of how he came to San Francisco from Naples, how he learned English, his hopes for a career in animation, and (this was the best part) a video clip of his renowned break-dancing skills. For the most part, he was harmless enough but Katie’s blood-shot eyes may lead her to a different conclusion.

Well, this is where I end. Adieu my fair friends. I will update with more stories as I find time. For now, muah!