Grits, sirens, and hot chocolate

Good news: at least part of my Southern food craving has been satiated. I got my MARVELOUS care package from the parents yesterday, perhaps the most exciting item contained in which was authentic American Quaker Instant Grits--the cheddar cheese variety!!!!! I was so excited I immediately ran to the water boiler and prepared a bowl of that classic Southern delicacy, which was probably the greatest food-moment I've had in this country.

Speaking of which, I'm going to miss Indian food when we get home. I've been told there is only one Indian restaurant in Greenville, how sad. We also need to work on getting some good fish-n-chips in America, because that has become my favorite English meal.

Thursday night we saw the Life of Galileo by Brecht, but it was a shockingly un-Brechtian production. Brecht had interesting theories of theatre that basically oppose the Aristotelian theories of theatre, but the play, in spite of its playwright, followed Aristotle except for one memorable scene involving a singing goth priest with Chicago-style dancers, one of whom had "Galileo" printed in rhinestones on the back of her very short shorts.

Random thoughts on my life in London...

My hotel is in a great location, except for there being an ambulance station right beside the hotel, resulting in British siren noises randomly bursting through my window every 10 minutes or so, causing me to throw my cup of tea into the air in surprise.

I think the maids are getting tired of changing my soup and chocolate stained sheets, as I have a habit of eating in bed, and as we all know, I also have a habit of spilling things on myself.

I have re-discovered the joy of the hot bath. I have been limited to showers until this point, but this morning I took a real, long bubble bath--thanks to my parents for sending the fun bath products. And I drank Cadbury hot chocolate too, which is pretty much heaven in a mug.

Colleen the roommate is gone to Wales this weekend, so I am All Alone in the room at night, which means I am locking the deadbolt and propping a chair up under the doorknob. Ok not quite that extreme, but it is a little creepy in this huge hotel in this huge city that has a nasty history of violence and crime (anyone remember that good ol' bloke Jack the Ripper?). See Peter Ackroyd's London: A Biography for several detailed chapters on the patterns of crime in London, and by the way thanks to the Professors-at-large for making it required reading.

I got a nifty going-out sleevless shirt that makes me resemble a polar bear. How hot is that? I think I'll wear it to the Ice Bar next week. (The Ice Bar is, appropriately, a bar made entirely of ice. Wow.)

We're planning a trip to Paris next weekend, whoohoo! Isn't it great that two of the biggest culture-rich cities in the world are just a short Chunnel ride apart?

Hopefully I will be going to see either Spamalot (the musical based on Monty Python and the Holy Grail) or Phantom of the Opera this week. And boo on the theatre elitists who consider musical theatre base.

According to the Official Keepers of the Countdown (aka my parents), there are now 43 days until my return, for anyone else who desperately misses me and wants to keep track. Or for anyone who is just that bored and looking for something to do other than homework, you can make yourself a Post-It notepad tear-off countdown calendar. That should take up a good 18 minutes or so.

This has been another transmission by your favorite Girl-in-London. Cheers, and have a fabulous fun-filled Saturday!