My Bloody Bag

So it's 10pm, I'm in Kensington at an "Easy Internet Cafe" where Dan has gone to at least five computers to find one that works.

My afternoon and evening have been great - I must have walked the equivalent of my apartment to Macy's today.

Dan's day was a bit different.

Dan wanted to make sure his Dad got on his plane back home today so Dan accompanied him to Heathrow after we arrived in London at Paddington Station. The train from Cardiff was late (nail biter because we wanted to make sure Mr. A had time to get on his plane - luckily I was not too stressed out, thanks to the wonders of little pink pills). We did not ride firts class, but Dan's luggage did.

When I got to the BnB tonight after my lovely day, Dan told me about his.

They made it in good time to Heathrow to check his Dad in, but Dan lost track of his father once he got through security. So Dan did not have a chance to say goodbye. Mr. A disappeared into thin air. He was on an escalator, Dan went around to see him, and his Dad was gone. Salvatore Houdini Acquisto, I guess. So Dan's Dad is probably on the plane, not knowing where Dan is (since Dan found out his father indeed did get on the plane. Dan called his Mom to see if his Dad called her (after he was sure his Dad was on the plane) - the ambiguous conversation certainly did not sit well with her, but it would have been worse if Dan had called before he found out for sure (imagine this conversation: Hi Mom, I lost Dad at a very large airport. Has he called?).

I forgot to mention what Dan and I received from the Festival people All five of the shows were represented at the festival by their writing teams. Each show received a handmade glass plate at this reception (all of us thought the plates were out to house hors d'oeuvres, but now, they are pieces of art ,not tableware. I am a klutz and cannot have nice things, so Dan will keep the square, beveled glass red plate with white diamond shapes on it 0 it is a lovely gift, though the thought of the glass and the bubble wrap and the trip back is daunting - hence my asking Dan to take it.

My brand new fabulous Kipling book bag (on sale at Filene's) is definitely mine now. It has my DNA on it. My hands were very raw this week and one of my cuticles started to bleed. A lot. I was pulling something out of my bag during the gush (I swear, it is a small finger, but it was not pretty. My finger looked like - say it - say it - say it: CARRIE.

So the bag is mine. Good hting I had the intention of keeping it and not returning it.

Our first meeting is tomorrow at 11 then at 3. I want to wake up early and be touristy. I of course have chosen a few places to eat tomorrow (word to the wise: Harvey Nick's food arcade is not as nice as Harrod's, where I took a picture of the Krispy Kremes. Yeah, you can't wear jeans at Harrod's but you can get a Krispy Kreme).

Might do the Jack the Ripper tour tomorrow night.

I just had a hot chocolate and am a little buzzed but need to wake up early (heck, full English breakfast is included at the BnB and they close at 9). Dan and I have an amazing picture from the show we want to print for the fols we are meeting, but we may end up showing it to them on his camera