SCREEECH Change of Plans!

Obviously, my initial ramblings are totally without merit as I am moving to London in one week. One week! 7 days, 168 hours, ummm 10,080 minutes-point being, so much to do, so little time!!! My major problems at the moment (I have been told I'm prone to drama and exaggeration but these are REAL!):
1. My passport and visa have not arrived. Apparently "Send all correspondence to Charlotte, NC" really means in British "Send hapless passport to old VA address and thereby cause unnecessary alarm." I think that they are just bitter about the War. Yeah, that one.
2. No place to live. Okay, so my roommate is working on that one. Thus far we're thinking Earl's Court which is apparently a cross between an ethnic developing neighborhood, a gay zone, a posh trendy area, a convention center, a bar scene, and a Muslim/Polish/Italian/Kiwi area. Oh yeah-2 girls from SC, we'll blend right in.
3. No suitcases. I was in the airport this weekend and noticed that the trend of "Oh, I'll just tie a red ribbon on my black rolling suitcase and that way NO ONE will mistake my bag for theirs" has morphed into either "I'll just buy a beige suitcase" or "ha! I'll use GREEN ribbon". Nametags people-USE NAMETAGS! Trust me, some random stranger already has your passport and the tube of deadly lip-gloss you were forced to leave at your old residence anyway. Give in gracefully.
4. No cell phone-Tricky but soon resolved with a little help from Vodaphone. Now if only I could keep straight when then bloody 0 (which is in parentheses) needs to be dialed. Gulp.
5. Not packed-Have you met me? I've never packed early a day in my life! Why, as soon as everything is rolled neatly and bundled away in it's own little safety storage bag you'll need it. I also always get freaked out when TSA leaves one of those "We've searched your bag" cards (I'm up to a collection of 9 or so at this point). Did they just peek? Nose around? Sort out my whites for laundry? I'm sure that's not the worst job ever but I swear that the agent at DCA-Reagan is slowly amassing a collection of my gym socks, nail clippers, rubber bands and oddly, my spare change that rolls around annoyingly.
6. Ha-Must go back to school. I went into Office Depot last week for some computer paper and strolled down the old school supply aisle. When did a 2nd grader start needing a PDA, laptop, cell phone, Filoflex, and 7 subject notebook? 2 words: Trapper Keeper. Apparently they are retro. Me, I just stole my supplies from work. Okay, it was more of a Lend-Lease situation that I have no intention of rectifying. Sort of like Oil for Food. Okay, not really but I felt like I was supposed to insert the obvious satirical and bitter joke about Bush, the Republican party, the demise of our status as a leading power of the world or something. Political alliances? Can't say as I have any which means I can call out stupid mistakes whenever I feel like it!
7. I don't speak the language. Silly girl, you think, the Brits speak English! Umm, WRONG! I mean, yes, I'll probably be able to muddle along but here is a partial list of words I'm bound to misuse, not use, or not know what in the hell they mean (I can add to this as I get going).
-Shag: US-This is the South Carolina state dance that I have known since birth and will probably go to my grave doing the pretzel and dreaming of Buzz from Shag: The Movie. UK-What every boy wants to do; it's a noun, verb, adverb, and adjective.
-Mews: What the hell is this? Does it involve Cats (will Andrew Lloyd Webber be there?)?
-Kiwi: US-Fruit good for you and full of antioxidants. UK-New Zealander (I'm not 100% sure, but I think you do not refer to an Aussie or a South African as a kiwi-I'll let you know)
-I just ran across a website that I NOT endorsing for anyone who is not a 22 year-old frat boy but it's londonslang.com. Seriously vulgar and I don't even comprehend some of the terminology.
-Fanny: US-A rather old-fashioned or polite (if not odd) term for a backside. UK-According to my American source, don't say this while buying a Christmas in cold weather ('I'm freezing my fanny off in this cold!') This apparently refers to something else entirely and is an EXTREMELY crude way of putting it. Location hint:Head due East of the U.S. Fanny. Or West.
-Pants: US-Trousers, slacks, seersucker. UK-Panties (I'm not sure if it's only for women though)
-Public school is a private school in England (Hmmm)

Seriously I could be in real trouble here at lecture!

Had a fun weekend visiting the old stomping grounds up in DC. People were like "Oh, you left?" Celebrated yet another summer birthday and general chaos and shenanigans ensued at Adams Mill and the Angry Inch. People watching at it's finest although apparently (in what is becoming a really horrible habit) I popped into the men's room at one point because no one was waiting and the girl's line was out the door. I made sure not to touch ANYTHING (ewww) but as I left a waiting guy (fine, so a dude had to wait 10 seconds! 10! You try putting on pantyhose just once!) was like, "Hey, Is this the men's room?" I just sort of let him think that the bathrooms went co-ed after midnight (worked in college). So after a LONG shower involving Clorox and germ killers it was back to Charlotte via Detroit. The man next to me "borrowed" my pen for 1 hour and ten minutes of a 1 hour and twenty minute flight (thus depriving me of Sudoku-yes I have an entire book). I tried reading Cosmo but I was stuck between a woman who looked just a bit too much like my mother and this gentleman. I couldn't bring myself to read up on "101 Sex Tips you MUST Try Before You Die (or die trying)" and risk one of them learning about what you can do with ice, a feather and some Saran Wrap-I'm still working that one out in my head.

But back to the guy: So he releases my hostage pen and then proceeds with the following conversational opening gambit: "I'm both a liberal and a conservative and I say that the way to knock out the terrorists is racial profiling. Just profile them. I can tell you aren't one of them and the grandmother across the aisle isn't but some people-you just know." As we were sitting in the middle of the plane I tried the "I swear, this guy is SO not with me" glance of desperation at the Indian, Iranian, Korean and African-American people sitting within ten feet of this guy and politely hummed a response. Score One for political correctness I guess. Maybe I will write my dissertation on it. Come to think of it-I've been pulled a bunch for special screening. According to Mr. UN I'm either A) A terrorist and they should be extra-cautious that my monogrammed Vera Bradley and Longchamps does not hold dangerous articles. B) The Atlanta and Frankfurt TSA agents thought I was cute or C)I don't look like the type to run screaming to the ACLU. Ahh, screw 'em. Although there are new machines at the airports so be prepared; they are extra slow and send puffs of air all over you. It takes about 10-15 seconds to complete the scan so allow for the frightened toddler that runs screaming through the area and will most certianly be on your plane, the granny who has to hobble since her dangerous cane is on the X-ray belt or the snarky business man who needlessly bitches out agents and incredulously inquires if he honestly looks like a killer. I love people-we're so kind and forgiving of the problems of the world ;)

I'm sure something else disastrous will go on this week but for now it's lights out :)
-AoY