Survival of the Fittest

I am now British. Perhaps not British, but at least in Britain. What other qualifications are there? I loaded a plane in Boston on Monday, April 27th, 2009, and landed somewhere else at some other time and some other date. The plane ride was incredible, and British. We flew on an empty Virgin Atlantic flight on the exit row where we could breath, stretch, and shake. The stewards were nice and stewardesses were Britishly attractive. During dinner one steward approached me and said, "Would you like some beer or wine?" and gave me a look that said "You know, you can drink when you are 18 here. You can finally drink legally!" He seemed slightly disappointed that I turned him down, and then again for the coffee and tea. After a light and delight-ful meal of chicken and buttery pasta with a salad, cheese and cracker, and tiramisu cake, I reclined and declined awakefulness. My movie was no good. But, upon landing in a dazed state, I exchanged my money and lost my right arm, survived customs by telling the agent I was Austin Powers, which she surprisingly believed, and then bought my Oyster Card. Two crowded subways and three hours later I made it to the hotel. The Underground took forever since we arrived exactly during morning rush hour and there was construction. Apparently there had been a breach of the border by a man named Jason Bourne so they decided to just shut down the Tube. It was all very exciting. My hotel was nice, and the breakfast was baked beans and toast, among other things. Baked beans for breakfast! I felt like I was in Boston... Stay tuned for more London adventures.