a wolf angel is not a good angel

It is, not unusually, rainy and cold here in London. I have come down with a terrible cold, and am praying to every god I’ve ever heard of that it will go away before I have to fly. I have to admit I’m almost feeling ready to go home — something about travelling alone, again. I don’t regret it, and I have more than enough to fill the next day and a half (too much, even), but I will be ready to leave on Monday. And then ready to go home, though I don’t know when I’ll be able to.

Off to the British Museum, now, to see the Rosetta stone.

I’m in London, now. I love London, too. I love lots of places, except where my university (ex, almost) is.

I met up with a friend, after quite the comedy of errors, and spent far more money than I should have on a coat. But it’s a really nice coat. Hand-made. It’ll last. Justification after the fact is so handy.

For the moment, I don’t regret that I’m leaving my school. I do regret leaving some of the people in the field — in the sense that I won’t run into them at conferences, unless somehow I decide to keep going to them. And I’d like to, but I know that realistically, I won’t.

I love travelling. I love all the free museums — big and small — that I can peek in. I have taken fewer photos than I would have liked, but I have a few that I rather like. My feet are in pain — blisters on both feet, and there’s something wrong with my left foot, but I only have a few days left anyways. I forgot how nice public transportation and just walking can be.

I have many disjointed thoughts, but I’m going to walk down Charing Cross and go to the National Gallery and ignore them for a beautiful day (in the rain).

I really like Berlin. I really hate not knowing German.

The conference has been fun, really testing my “hey, I’m *leaving*” plan. I like listening. I like doing. I like interacting. My talk was middling successful.

But I skipped half the talks to tour yesterday, so who knows. I excused it by my not being here for long (leaving today) and by the leaving idea.

Oh well. I’ve been having a just wonderful time, and that’s what matters.

David Gil admits there are words in Riau Indonesian (but still not nouns or verbs or any kind of word order)!

Something I knew but didn’t think of in time:

It hurts a lot to put shoes back on after they’ve been off for seven hours in a plane. It’s almost impossible.

Also, I’m totally intolerant of people travelling with children. If they’re screaming and kicking the seats in front of them, kissy kissy mommy loves you kissy kissy doesn’t work — at least try to ask them to be quiet instead of further ignoring them to watch the in-flight movie.

And don’t planes have anywhere to change diapers other than on seats?

Berlin is lovely, so far, which isn’t very far. I feel horrible not knowing any German, though.

My day:

12:30 Tuesday (EST) — leave for the airport. (after two days of little sleep, too)
1:00 reach the airport (no traffic!)
2:45 fly to Raleigh-Durham
4:15 arrive, after having slept the entire flight.
6:45 fly to London Gatwick
7:00 am Wed (GMT) arrive in London, after having slept 40 minutes
8:00 make it out of customs
8:55 catch the 8:30 bus to downtown London
11:25 reach London, after having nodded off about an hour
11:35 catch the 11:55 bus to London Stansted
1:05 reach the airport, after having slept the entire time, and with a very painful neck
2:10 - 2:35 keep hearing desperate announcements that if the missing passengers for their flight to Dublin don’t appear right now, they’re going to have their luggage removed and miss the flight, really truly this time
2:38 watch the flight to Dublin finally leave, without two passengers
2:45 get onto my flight to Berlin
5:00 (GMT+1) arrive in Berlin for the world’s easiest customs
5:25 get my luggage and take out some Euros
5:35 finally find the appropriate S-Bahn
6:05 reach my stop
6:20 reach the hostel, after having to limp the entire way. |Get pleasantly surprised: tonight I am the only person in my triple.
6:30 rest and change out of grimy clothes
7:15 take a walk to see the East Side Gallery, take some photos, touch it, and think wow, I touched the Berlin Wall
8:50 get back to the hostel with some poppyseed pastry thing, surprised by how hungry I am.
9:20 email my parents to say I’m here and alive.

Now, I am going to go lie down, intend (truly truly intend) to figure out what I’m doing tomorrow, and fall asleep instead.

I’ve finally worked out all my arrangements. Which is great, since I’m leaving for the airport in under three hours. Ack.

It’s going to be interesting, going to this conference after I’ve decided to leave, after I’ve finished everything. Should be fun to answer the “how are things?” question. Not so much to other students (less competition for them, in the end), but from the newly-hired.

Oh well. I have something like 20 hours of transit ahead. I can figure it out then. If I don’t spend the entire 20 hours asleep, which is not unlikely.

To boys:
I know that it’s still in to wear very baggy pants and show your boxers. But it can’t possibly be in to wear pants so baggy that when you bend over I see the skin between the bottom of your boxers and the top of your pants, and so low that you can’t walk but need to waddle. It just can’t. Please buy smaller pants.

To girls:
No matter how perfect your figure is, once you’ve past puberty, painted-on jeans make you look fat. Also, those Abercrombie & Fitch pseudo-tennis skirts look bad on you. Yes, you.

I turned on my air conditioner. In April. At night.

Now, everyone had it on today — it was hot — but to need it at night? My head hurts, and the air wasn’t moving through my open windows, and it’s 25 degrees. 25! That’s way too hot for a spring evening.

But during the day it was beautiful. I got to wear my first sundress this year.

With six seconds to go, the Habs scored into an empty net. 2-0, Montreal (4-3 in the series, coming back from 3-1). We’re on to the semi-finals, though I don’t know who against. Tampa Bay, apparently, so I think this is probably where we’re going to end it. I’m still happy.

Toronto vs. Ottawa for the 7th game tomorrow. Go Ottawa!

(I care deeply about hockey during the playoffs and the Olympics. Otherwise, whatever.)

My head feels like it is about to explode. I need instant Tylenol, not just Tylenol.

This was a not-quite-so-productive day. Unsurprising, since it followed an all-but-no-sleep night. Not good. I need to finish this handout NOW, and get it photocopied. I need to finish packing. I need to find a place to stay while I’m in Berlin, since I’ve yet to hear back from the hostels, and I’m leaving TOMORROW. Not that this worries me or anything. Of course not.

I’m always so anxious and miserable before conferences.