This weekend was....

a wreck... details excluded.

My international relations friends were dead to me this weekend because they have papers and presentations all week, so I kept occupied with the summer '06 crew.

On Wednesday I met up with my Wembley friend , who happened to be in a bar around the corner. He was in 'tip-top' drinking shape, (well, at least he was 2 hours before I arrived), and I enjoyed myself completely by abusing the drunk friend.

Then on Thursday I went out around the Hoxton area with Sharif, who works a block from my house. After that I met up with some friends near Picadilly. Eventually I paid 7 pounds to get into a club to wonder around looking for my Wembley friend, while ten minutes later I get a text saying he was outside and was ready to go to a different establishment. Baaaastard. The evening was burnt at that point. That, my friends, is three hours of minimum wage work pissed down the throat of a cheesy central London club. I'm not bitter.

On Friday I went to work, in my same jean skirt, tights, and boots, because I couldn't be 'bothered' to change out of them from either side of entering my bed. I waited for deliveries and one delivery man asked if I had a private elevator to 'my' apartment. I was like, I don't live here, I am the cleaner. I got the toe-to-head, head-to-toe lookdown. He then insisted upon leaving his number. Next time, I am definitely taking the time to put on jeans before work.

Then I went home and went straight to bed... haha.

On Saturday, I went to a greasy spoon with Sharif, and had the English fry up for the second week in a row. Goodbye healthy arteries! Later in the evening he took me to Brick Lane to see the international restaurant row. Much like Bloomington's, except not really. The night ended with a lot of tears after watching Sicko, a fine, fine movie.

Then I got an astounding amount of work done on my papers that are due this week, before I go to Munich, (which after this week's workload, cannot come soon enough! ... am I right?)

The best moment of my week, however, was when I left class on Thursday and the heavens opened up when I was about one block away from my school. I 'forgot' my umbrella (at least I forgot it was in my backpack!) and got totally soaked. But, for the bright moment, I saw a woman fighting with her umbrella after the wind turned it inside out and the handle just snapped off right where it meets the fabric. She just stood there, swinging it around and screamed at me, laughing, "Did you see that? DID YOU SEE THAT?" We chatted and laughed about being soaked and the demise of her nice umbrella for a while. And that was a fine Londoner moment.