Another Day, Another Play

Yes. I like it here.

Doctor Faustus was sort of what I expected, but really not at all. It was dark, but also funny, and frightening, and really kind of moving.

The play tells the story of Doctor Faustus, who sells his soul to Lucifer in exchange for 24 years with one of Lucifer's right-hand men, Mephistopheles. He becomes rich and powerful and does all these terrible things, but ultimately dies when his years are up, being dragged off by demons to torment forever in hell. All the while he briefly contemplates turning back to God, but Mephistopheles and his Bad Angel (you know, like the one on his shoulder) keep telling him he can't, despite his Good Angel's urging to do so.

The play was super elaborate, with these enormous costume pieces and people on stilts and trapdoors and fire leaping out of books and stuff--things I never expected the Globe could manage. It was all wonderful. My favorite was by far Mephistopheles, who could go from restrained to charming to terrifying at the drop of a hat. I really enjoyed his relationship with Faustus; I felt like Mephistopheles really cared about him and would become jealous, almost hurt, when Faustus considered turning back to God.

My favorite part of the play, though, came probably because it was so entirely unexpected. There is a character at the end simply called the Old Man, who enters, has 3 long lines urging Faustus to turn to Heaven, and leaves when Faustus tells him he can't, it's too late. I didn't pay him much mind when I read the play, but seeing it I got an entirely different perspective. When the man entered, I watched him deliver his lines for a moment, and then my eyes turned to Mephistopheles. He was pinned against the pillar in complete and total terror, almost in tears, struck completely useless by the presence of the Old Man. And I realized: he was God, coming to make one final plea to Faustus to realize his errors and come home. Unlike Mephistopheles, who came in in a cloud of smoke with a red cape, conjuring dancing demons to prove himself, the Old Man came in with nothing, unassuming as always, and simply asked. I cried a little. Seeing Mephistopheles, who was so calm and in control the entire play, suddenly reduced to this frightened child, was a really beautiful moment. And the fact that Faustus rejected him once again finally sealed his fate--we watched seconds later as demons literally carried him offstage into smoky Hell.

Anyway, that was my favorite part. It was kind of when I realized the severity of the material. And I'm finding it very difficult to dislike anything that I see at the Globe--what a problem to have.

To recap the rest of my day, we went to the London Eye before the show, which was a great view of the city but not much else. The plan was the Tower of London, but our professor assigned us a paper on Much Ado due tomorrow so we decided we needed the extra time to work on it before the show. We'll probably go to tomorrow, see the Crown Jewels and all that.

It's a late night in the flat. What with Faustus going a bit longer than the rest of the shows we've seen (it was 3 hours) and only an hour or two to work on our paper this afternoon, we're all cramming a bit. But hey, any excuse to write about my beloved Claudio, I'm happy.

Cheerio!

-Charlotte

Thunder and Fire and Faustus

Yesterday I experienced my first-ever London thunderstorm. Boy this place has weird weather. I went from sweating my eyes out one day to staying indoors amidst torrential downpour the next. Anyway, we used it as prompting to sit in our living room and read Doctor Faustus, our next play, which we are seeing tonight. The wonderful thing about it was that Faustus is this really dark show about demons and Lucifer and all that incredibly cheerful stuff, and it literally says things like "Faustus is in his study. Thunder." and thunder would bang in the background, right on cue. So that was fun.

FIE, the Foundation for International Education, is the organization that is looking after us while we're here--it's their housing and such that we're staying in. Anyway, they had a meet and greet type thing last night over at the Imperial College. I was actually genuinely looking forward to getting to know some of the students from other schools--they have people here from like Santa Clara and Ohio State and U of A who live in our building but we never see--but of course we pretty much stuck to ourselves, had our 2 free drinks, and left.

We went over to Piccadilly Circus, which I had yet to go to and was like a much smaller Times Square, with big video screens and stores and such. There were a ton of people around, despite it being fairly late on a Tuesday. We went to this bar/restaurant called O'Neills that had dancing and a live band and three stories. Definitely one of the most fun places I've been since I've been here. We took the night bus home since the Tube stops at 12, which was kind of an experience.

Anyway, we're back off to the Globe tonight to see Doctor Faustus. I'm feeling more than a little sad that we aren't seeing a comedy, but oh well. We're first going to the London Eye, one of the most overpriced touristy things in London, but still something you've got to do while you're here (kind of like Madame Tussauds, which is also on my list). Should be a good time.

Here's hoping the rain stays away. I hear there's lots of fire in Faustus.

-Charlotte

A Cafe Encounter... that is Much Ado About Nothing

Well I've finally made it back to the land of the living, just in time for it to get HOT. Rainy, cloudy London is no more, this is sweat-until-you-die London (at least for the moment. I actually hear it should rain again tomorrow).

I actually felt better starting yesterday, but decided to play it relatively easy and NOT go to the all-day club that my flatmates checked out (they call it "Church." Get it? Because it's on Sunday? Yeah). Instead, two others and I went to the Royal Albert Hall (built by Queen Victoria's husband, Albert) and saw the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. The whole thing was beautiful, from the hall to the music, and to top it all off they did Carmina Burana which is a personal favorite of mine since we sang parts of it at Nueva. Seriously, the whole thing was incredibly gorgeous. It was just what I needed to experience some London culture while still taking it pretty easy (and also not dying in the heat, which had just begun).

We went to dinner at the Gourmet Burger Kitchen, which we discovered is American because they say fries instead of chips, and spent the night finishing Much Ado About Nothing since the performance was today.

This morning instead of class we headed down to the Globe, where we got a tour and a semi-acting lesson from an actor. It was fairly interesting, although the tour was only of the stage, which we'd seen, and most of the facts we'd already learned from Dobby (that's our professor. He forbids us to call him anything other than Dobby). The acting was pretty hysterical, though, mostly watching our friends be subject to his humorously harsh stage directions.

After that, Dobby took us on a short Shakespeare walking tour, including the site of the original Globe, the Rose which was its rival theatre, and Southwark chapel that has Shakespeare's brother's grave (I took a picture before I knew we weren't allowed to). When the tour was finished Dobby took seven of us out to lunch to discuss a couple scenes in Much Ado that we're going to act out in class on Wednesday.

This is where it all got a little weird. Maybe I'm overreacting from this whole thing, but I'll let you be the judge. Here are the facts. We went to this little cafe that was attached to the Globe Education Center or something like that. Basically it's owned by the Globe. So we go in and it's essentially empty, there's one older bald man eating his food, we order our food and sit down, and these 4 men come in after, order, and sit. We start talking about Much Ado. We're going on for a bit and then I look over and the man who'd been sitting there when we walked in is kind of glaring at us, and I see him mouth "shut the f**k up." Like really angrily. So suffice it to say I was sort of taken aback. A few moments later, I notice that the four men at the table next to us are particularly amused by our conversation (it wasn't exactly hard to tell what we were talking about). They keep glancing over and laughing and muttering about "Hey that table's discussing Much Ado." So now I'm feeling really uncomfortable. Then, to top it all off, this very attractive young man with a beard (he's attractive despite the beard, not because of it, okay) comes in and is immediately called over by the other four. One older guy goes "Hey, see that table there, they're doing Much Ado." So I suddenly realize: they're the actors. They're probably having lunch before they do some dress rehearsal or fitting or something, and we're just being terribly amusing to them by going on about the play they'll be performing in only a few hours time.

So, okay. This is cool, right? Except I was so thrown off by the one guy telling us to eff off (he wasn't an actor, by the way, just some guy) and not totally knowing how to react by these guys looking at us and laughing while we discuss their play was just a little too much. I left feeling very embarrassed and hoping that I was wrong, or that maybe they were the actors for a different play, or something. I just couldn't shake the feeling that that guy with the beard was way too handsome to have a beard like that if he wasn't... a Shakespearean actor. Or Brian Wilson.

Anyway, for whatever reason, this encounter stayed with me all day, kind of in a negative way. After lunch we went to the Clink Museum, which was this tiny little thing all about medieval torture and prisons and such. The worst we saw was this big metal boot that they stick your foot in and pour hot oil into it, then make you sit there until your foot literally falls off. Sickening. Afterwards we walked down the Thames to the Tower Bridge and took photos and such (I will be better with the photos, I've just been too lazy to upload them). We walked past City Hall which is this very modern building that looks a bit like an egg that's been sliced and then tilted out in pieces--hard to describe. Then we walked all the way back past the Globe and to this little pub that is supposed to let you drink your pint on the steps leading to the river, right on the shore, but the tide had gone out so it was all rocks, and all we wanted was water to drink anyway (like I said, SO hot out).

We got dinner and finally ran into 2 girls who said everyone was at Starbucks writing in their journals (we have to keep one for the class) and finishing the play, so we headed over there and spent some time before the show started. We also hit up the Globe gift shop, which had my favorite Hamlet quote that I had all but forgotten but now remember: "Doubt thou the stars are fire/ Doubt that the sun doth move/ Doubt truth to be a liar/ But never doubt I love" (I die).

Finally, it was show time, and I found myself nervous, for no good reason whatsoever. I was just really hoping I was wrong and the guys at the cafe were not actors, just randoms who like to laugh at people reading Shakespeare.

Of course, who shows up right on stage, hottie with a beard, playing Claudio, one of the two male leads. I almost died. I kept myself together for the most part, though, and promptly fell in love with him throughout the course of the play, although the whole cafe thing was still in the back of my mind (stupid). The man playing the Friar was the one who was particularly amused by us.

Anyway, the play was great, so funny, a lot more laugh-out-loud moments than All's Well (largely because it's just a funnier play). The guy who played Geoffrey on "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" was in it! We were all highly amused. I will not go into a plot synopsis like I did for All's Well, but of course in the end everything was well and everyone was happy, this time ending in a sort of double wedding and, of course, a jig. I now wonder if I go back to that cafe on the morning of a performance, if I will be able to re-meet Claudio and set the record straight. Of course, I realize how ironic all this is given the title "Much Ado About Nothing," which I believe is exactly what happened in my head over the course of the day.

I'm a little sad to be done with comedies, especially because we've got some heavy ones coming up. Doctor Faustus, which it appears that nobody has a clue what it's about (not even Dobby) but is very supernatural and all the posters have fire and stuff, then Richard III and Hamlet (my love). Big hitters. It'll all be good though.

It is so wonderful to be back :)

-Charlotte

Sick.

Yeah. In London, sick. How upsetting. I slept like 6 hours today, so no exciting adventures to report, but here's hoping I can shape up for the weekend. I have been having all kinds of fun dreams about Shakespearean kings and stuff... glad to know it's been invading my subconscious.

The Killers are playing in Hyde Park tomorrow. That should expedite my getting better process, right? Let's hope.

All's Well That Ends Well... assuming it ends well

Jeez, I miss one day, and it's like I have a million things to talk about.

Okay, briefly, yesterday:

-Watched Shakespeare in Love in class, which I adore. Also makes me wish I had brought Romeo + Juliet because I always want to watch it after I see the other. It all got me very excited for my first trip to the Globe!

-Went to the Victoria & Albert Museum, which is MONSTROUS. I've never seen something so enormous. We thought we could get all the essentials in 2 hours. False. I did see some very cool Medieval Art & searched for almost 20 minutes when I found out there was a Donatello room (he's one of my favorites)--only to find out there was one little Donatello statue and like 20 "in the style of Donatello" things. My favorite, though, were the "Raphael Cartoons," 6 enormous paintings approximately 12 x 15 feet each, that were commissioned by the Pope and depict stories from Acts. They were all alone in this gargantuan room; it was the only place I went to in the museum where you couldn't take pictures. They were literally breathtaking. Also on loan from the Queen!

-Remember the British comedian I talked about from the pub the night before? Yeah, he went on for like 20 minutes about this place called Nando's that was his absolute favorite. It was a restaurant chain, I feel like kind of on par with a place like Chipotle, except only served chicken. Anyway, we decided we had to check it out and see what all the fuss was about, so we went to our local neighborhood one (it wasn't hard to find; they're everywhere). The food was pretty good, definitely a fun atmosphere. Best mashed potatoes (or "mash," as they say) I've ever had. Also I learned the hard way that they do not say chicken filet, like fil-ay, like we do in America, but they say fillet, like skillet. I have so much to learn.

So that was yesterday. It ended with me going to bed at 9:00, thus no post. Days are long here; the sun rises at 4:30 and doesn't fully set until 10:30. With class in the morning and nonstop activities in the afternoon, it's pretty exhausting. In a good way, though.

This morning I woke up at 7:00 entirely on my own for maybe the first time in my life. I finished reading All's Well that Ends Well, which we were discussing in class (our first real class) and seeing tonight at the Globe.

From my reading, this is what I got as the general plot: a girl named Helena is in love with a newly-appointed Count named Bertram, whose mother the Countess practically raised Helena after her father died. The King is sick and Helena, whose father was a physician, promises to cure him if he offers her one thing: the hand in marriage to any man she chooses. He agrees and she does, of course choosing Bertram. Bertram is a total jerk about the whole thing and argues that she is too lowly for him, but the King insists. The two are married and Bertram runs away to go to war, leaving Helena a letter telling her that if she can get the ring he wears on his finger and become pregnant with his child, only then will he truly be her husband. Off at war, Bertram tries to seduce a commoner named Diana, but Helena interferes and comes up with a plot of her own. Diana tells Bertram she'll sleep with him if he gives her his ring; then later, when he goes to her room to meet her, she has Helena there waiting for him instead. Helena sends word that she has died, causing Bertram to regret how poorly he treated her and return home. There, the whole mess comes spilling out, where Diana accuses Bertram of stealing her virginity in front of the King and everybody. Finally, though, Helena shows up, with the ring, and the pregnant belly, and tells him he now has to be her husband. Bertram agrees and the two live happily ever after.

Yikes. There were also all these supporting characters that supposedly turned it into a comedy, but let's face it: it wasn't very funny. In fact, were it not for nobody actually dying, it really could have been a tragedy instead. They say "All's Well That Ends Well," but the way things are left is really not well at all--I don't care if the two are married, Bertram is still a jerk and doesn't love her.

While I pondered all that, the crew and I took the Tube over to the Globe, which happened to be near 2 other pretty great sights: St. Paul's Cathedral and the Millenium Bridge. The Cathedral is beautiful. Unfortunately, you had to pay to get in, and we were feeling cheap, so the inside will have to wait for another time. The outside was gorgeous though. The Millenium Bridge is a pretty cool-looking modern bridge, that I recognized (and got excited about) because it's the one that the Death Eaters collapse at the beginning of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part One. Also on it was none other than Captain Morgan himself (Houseboats!), who was being videotaped for Facebook or something and asked me all sorts of questions like was I a hippie because I was from San Francisco. I had to sign a waiver to let them use the footage; apparently if you like Captain Morgan on Facebook I'll be up there in a couple days.

Next was the Tate Modern, which was... modern. I'm just really not a big fan of the modern art, if I'm being honest. There were some very cool, very famous artists in there--Picasso, Matisse, Van Gogh, Dali, etc--and I liked those for sheer history's sake, but artistically I prefer something like a big Baroque statue or Renaissance painting. I really need to hit up the National Gallery; that's where my kind of stuff is.

After dinner, we headed on over to the Globe to see All's Well. Our tickets were great--the front row of the last balcony, center stage. It was really awesome to see all the actors legitimately interact with the audience. The theatre looked just how it did in "Shakespeare in Love;" awesome. The show hugely exceeded my expectations. It was actually really funny, and really sweet, and to my delight Bertram didn't turn out to be a huge douche after all--he loved Helena, he just thought they couldn't be together because of their class differences. Our professor said he's always wanted him to be played that way but this is the first time he's ever seen it done. Anyway, it was all great fun, and after the show ended (with a legitimately happy ending, unlike my reading of the play), they did a little jig, which is apparently the norm for all the shows done in the Globe--even the tragedies.

To add one more little fun experience, as my roommate Nicole and I were heading outside from the loo, our favorite character Paroles (who had been our least favorite character when we read the show--funny how that works out) was walking inside and held the door for us. We got to tell him how much we enjoyed the show and especially his part, which was a nice little ending to the night.

I truly cannot believe it's been only a few days since I've been here. There's been so much already--I can just tell that a month is going to feel like forever but it'll whiz by so quickly. Apologies for the novel; thanks for reading!

-Charlotte

Monday Highlights

A highlight of the day's adventures:

-Our first day of "class," which was really just FIE orientation, learning about the ins and outs and how to be safe in London, etc.

-My first British Starbucks experience. A regular coffee is a "filtered coffee" and you can either order it black or white, which is with milk. Also they sell packaged pancakes and marmalade. True story.

-A trip to the West End/Soho/Leicester Square (watch out, here comes the aforementioned occasional photo):

Total highlight. We went to the bookstore to pick up copies of All's Well That Ends Well which apparently they do not sell in the States because nobody could find it. Then a trip to the M&M store which was a massive four stories and featured such beauties as these:

The Bard himself, Billy Shakes.

I know, hot ride. (Apparently I've got a thing for the blue one.)

Also there was this amazing little pastry shop that made me sick with its sweetness (literally) as we ate sitting on a step on the sidewalk. We got some serious dirty/confused looks for that one; apparently it's not okay to sit on steps and eat pastry in London. Also in the West End, oh yeah, MUSICALS. A ton of them. That was definitely my favorite part of London we've visited so far (I know, I've been here SUCH a long time already), and I realllly want to go back. Also see a show.

More highlights:

-Reading/acting out All's Well with 4 other people--makes it far easier and more fun to understand. Also we have to read it by Wednesday.

-Returning to what we are now calling our "local" for Comedy Night and being treated to some good old British humor while we ate our chicken pie and mash.

-Discovering that the other students living in our building are from Ohio State.

...okay the highlight was the cute boys that are from there too.

Words I am now attempting to add into my vocabulary:

-Sorry. Instead of "excuse me." Like when you're in the tiny market with your quart of milk and you have to squeeze by the man in a suit, you do not say "excuse me," you say "sorry." You also say it in a British accent, because it is short enough that you can't really mess it up and people may actually believe you.

-Cheers. We're still trying to totally figure out the context of this one. I was pretty sure it was in lieu of "thank you." Like when you order your food at the pub and they hand you your change and you say "cheers" and then walk away. Then some of my friends thought it was as a goodbye, kind of like "ciao" or something. Which would also make sense in the context I just used. Clearly this necessitates further investigation; I'll let you know as the mystery unfolds.

-Brilliant. This one's my favorite. They use it for everything; even things that are really not very brilliant. "Here's your change." Brilliant. "There's the Tube." Brilliant. "Class starts at 9:30." Brilliant. It's great. Wait, it's brilliant. I need work.

Lovelovelove!

-Charlotte

Just Touched Down in Londontown (for real)

Well, I made it. Quite a journey. I'll call it Charlotte's Travel Saga, Part Two, or: I Begin a Torrid Love Affair with British Airways. After checking out of the hotel this morning (yesterday morning? I have no idea what's going on with time), I grabbed the shuttle to the airport and waited in line yet again for British Airways, which didn't start checking people in until 12:45.

While I was waiting, I ran into my best friend Maddie's cousins Georgie and Fiona, and Fiona's parents. They were on my same flight en route to Spain. Small world. Anyway, I had a minor heart attack when the British Airways man told me they were overbooked because of United sending all their people to that flight, and I'd have to go on standby. Given my luck, I was just positive I wouldn't get a spot on the plane. Georgie and Fiona and I got lunch and ice cream and played cards, and as they headed to security I went to meet my doom.

The man was very nice, he let me skip the line and come straight up to talk to him. I was ten minutes early, so he asked me to step to the side (very politely) and wait a bit. After the ten minutes, I walked up and he said "Hi Miss Livermore," before checking very quickly and saying he was sorry but could I wait just a few moments more (imagine all this in a British accent). Then he left. Right then, another man came walking around asking if anyone was on the flight to London (which by now had started boarding). One person piped up and said she was on standby, and he shook his head at her and said there was no way. So I was feeling very hopeless.

Until my friend came back. He waved me over and said we were all set, handed me my boarding pass, and then offered to escort me to the gate since he was going there anyway. We went to the front of every line, everybody looking at me like I was some special-status something. Or as the guy in the UCSB baseball polo standing next to me in security said, "You must be really important." Anyway, I made it to the gate thanks to the VIP treatment, and finally, FINALLY boarded for London.

Extra bonus: somehow my seat ended up being in "World Traveler Plus," BA's equivalent of Economy Plus. On a ten-hour flight, though, you get a lot more than extra legroom. The man at the door checked my ticket and called me by name, showing me to my seat. There were built-in TVs in every seat. Flight attendants didn't go longer than half an hour without offering water or juice. The meal was easily the best flight meal I'd ever had--some sort of curry chicken rice business. They had a great selection of movies, and TV, and music. The seats went really far back and had legrests that came out. Not to turn this into some sort of British Airways Yelp review, but in short I was impressed. And in love. British Airways has so won my business in the future, along with my heart.

Anyway. London. I got to the airport and made my way pretty easily through customs, etc. The Tube was surprisingly easy as well. Really just... a typical subway. The difficult part was when I got off and had to find my way to the housing place where I was supposed to check in. That was an hour-long process, lugging an extremely heavy bag through the streets of Kensington on 4 hours of sleep. Finally I made it, with a half hour to spare before the walking tour of Kensington, where I finally met most of the people on the trip with me.

The tour was pretty interesting. Our guide was a woman who had lived there for 25 years and whose goal was to show us the side of London that only the locals knew, since we technically would be locals for a month. We saw a lot of interesting shops and an abundance of beautiful old churches. My favorites were the mews, which used to be where the people would park their horse and carriage, and now are small, usually one or two level flats. Despite their small size, our guide said they go for about 2 million pounds--although it's a far cry from the upwards of 25 million some of the seven-story houses get. I'm a little amazed they have student housing in such a nice area; the wealthiest street in London is just a few blocks away from us, right by the Kensington Palace where Will and Kate are going to move later this summer.

By the end of the tour, my jetlag had caught up with me, and I was enormously regretting choosing the three-hour walking tour to break in my new shoes. We made it back in one unit, however, and I was finally able to shower off the 2 days of travel before going grocery shopping. It's still all very surreal that I'm actually here, in a foreign country. I talk to someone and they are surprised at the accent that comes out of my mouth. It's very odd.

My one roommate Nicole and I are getting along great, which is nice. We're in a four-person room, but our other 2 girls we think are the ones who got stuck at SFO with the United crash and won't get in until tomorrow night. We have our first day of class tomorrow. I'm excited! Also my first-ever pub trip tonight, where I'm mostly going to eat because I haven't really had anything since the breakfast on the plane this morning. I figure if I can stay awake until 10 then I can wake up for class tomorrow and fight this whole jetlag thing. My body is mad at me right now though.

Hopefully I have more exciting things to report next time. Thanks for tuning in :)

-Charlotte

PS: If someone would like to give the Giants a kick in the pants from me, I'd appreciate it. Just because I leave the country does not mean they are allowed to start losing to the A's. That is all.

London Calling... and Calling... still Calling...

This is not quite how I anticipated my first blog post about London going... seeing as I am not yet in London.

It's been quite a day, to say the least. Since it's 1:30 in the morning and nothing has gone quite how I planned it to, this will likely be brief (or maybe not). What follows is Charlotte's Travel Saga, Part One, or: How I Left My House at 11 AM and ended up at La Quinta Inn LAX 22 Hours Later.

My flight left SFO on time, 1:24 PM, bound for LAX. I sat next to the two cutest little girls on the plane, sisters, one was going into 6th grade and one 2nd. They kept asking what I was going to do in Hawaii (that's where they were going after their connection). Adorable.

In LA, there was a minor speed bump: the plane I was on was getting in late from Beijing and would be delayed about half an hour. My layover was already three hours, but since I had gotten in early and would now be departing late, it ended up being about four hours. Which was fine, but felt like it would be long.

It was long. The only problem was, as we crept closer to the supposed departure time (6:30), we started to notice that something was not quite right. Flights were not leaving. Any of them. Finally we had a representative come on the speaker telling us that the United computers had crashed and we had to wait it out until they were online before we could do anything--check-in, change seats, board the plane. A quick google search told me this was not just an LAX thing; this was nationwide. Awesome.

As the hours crept by and I slowly realized I would likely be able to watch the Giants game after all (with a 7:10 start time), it became more apparent that I was also likely not going to make it to London anytime soon. At least not in time to make the walking tour of the city we were supposed to have tomorrow (today?). I was with 3 other girls who are also in my program, 1 of whom I'd met but the other 2 I hadn't. They are LA locals, so their Plan B was going home for the night. I had no such plan. (One of the girls actually had a panic attack because of the delays and such; I guess I should call myself lucky.)

I went to charge my phone and watch the Giants game down the terminal a bit and sat next to this young couple watching a movie. Around 9:30 or so (yes, this was 3 hours later), the girl's excited brother came running over to say the computers were back. We were in the money. The flight to Sydney that had also been grounded at the gate next to ours was starting to board. I almost skipped to the gate in excitement.

It was short-lived. The United representative came on the speaker again and said that because of how long we had had to wait, the crew members were not legally allowed to run the flight anymore--the flight was cancelled. Since the other girls hadn't transferred, they were instructed to collect their bags, go home, and call an 800 number to be rebooked. Since I was in the middle of a connection, I was instructed to go to the customer service table and talk to an agent, who would rebook my flight and give me a hotel voucher for the night. I said goodbye to the girls and went to the counter.

The line itself was about as long as a busy day at the security checkpoint--long, but when it moves quickly shouldn't be much trouble. Problem was, it didn't move quickly. I was relatively towards the front, probably around the third bend of people, and I was standing there for two. hours. This was the worst part of my day, hands down. There were TWO agents behind the counter, just two, and for whatever reason it took them a minimum of 15 minutes to help each customer. There must have been almost 100 people in this line. It was agony. I felt particularly sorry for a young couple with twin newborns in a double stroller. They'd been there for 8 hours, just like the rest of us. People started getting testy. At one point the line of angry people formed a little mini-riot and started yelling; I felt like I was on the Titanic, when they bust down the gate that they're locked behind. Truthfully, I was a little scared.

Finally, FINALLY, I reached the front of the line, and right then a third teller decided to show up, and she helped me. I don't know how it happened--I overheard at least five people in front of me get told that there was no flight out until Monday--but she was able to book me on a flight leaving tomorrow at 3:55, arriving in London on Sunday morning. It was the last available seat. I was praising Jesus for that one; looks like reading The Screwtape Letters in line really helped me out.

Anyway, ticket and hotel voucher in hand, I headed over to the La Quinta Inn LAX, a place I never thought I'd be checking into at 1 in the morning. Or ever. The line was yet again out of control; apparently that's where every airline had been sending their customers. I met a man trying to get from Oklahoma to SFO (Go Giants) who missed his flight by 15 minutes, a woman coming back from Beijing (that same plane that was supposed to be mine that got in late) who missed her connection to Portland, and an Australian guy about my age who had flown from Sydney to Beijing to here (same flight as the woman) and then missed his connection to Philly. It was madness.

Ultimately, I made it. When the man behind the counter handed me room 828, I knew my luck had changed. Despite the security guard in the hallway, this place actually isn't too bad. I think it's also the first time I've ever stayed in a hotel completely alone--look at me all growing up. I can't imagine what's going on back at the airport. The way that line was moving, it was looking like it'd take people at least 3 hours to get through them all. I feel very lucky to have gotten that last seat; looks like I may actually make it to London after all (I was worried there for a bit). Here's praying for a much easier experience tomorrow, but hey, at least it was an adventure. I can promise you lots more over the next month.

Stay tuned!

-Charlotte