lions and strikes and queens, oh my

Alright. To quickly sum up before we get too far behind to even try and catch up. Last week, the tube workers went on strike. This was fabulous news since nobody knew how to work the bus system. Consequently, some people in the program took 3 hours to get to work and then of course cried.

Luckily, Catrina and I had work off on the first day. Instead we went on an exciting and surprisingly sightseeingesque bus ride to find the British Library. Since we were famished, we stopped into a pub to grab a bite to eat. I ordered a tuna melt. Now, similar to most of our British experiences, you think you know what you are getting but no, you are wrong. My tuna melt was tuna and melted cheese on a baguette. No relish or onions or mayonnaise or anything in the tuna. The British put mayo on everything but the one time I actually wanted a little it was no where to be seen.

After the library, we somehow made it to class since part of the tube was working. Upon arriving to stupid class, which we had been informed no tube strike would cancel, we were told to tell out friends who didn’t come that it was okay. Gah, we could have skipped and no one would have even known. Damn Catrina for being right. Afterwards we made it home, again on the tube in a somewhat roundabout manner.

Also, since Catrina and I were terrified of trying to get to work the following day via the bus, we were considering just skipping. Catrina was just planning on going in on Fri, but I had only worked one day. Luckily, I got an email from my boss asking if I wanted “to give tomorrow a miss” because of the strike. I love my boss. I’m just going to work four days next week. Problem solved.

Since Catrina, Amanda, Caitlyn and I all were not working, we decided to try and go to the National Galleries since it only took one bus to get there.

However, once there, we quickly got sidetracked by men in uniform. They informed us that there was going to be a celebration for the Prince of Edinburgh, the queen’s husband (who we knew practically nothing about) and that the queen would be there. Discounted tickets were only £10 and we figured why not. Since we wouldn’t have time to go to the museum, we decided to wisely use our time to climb some giant bronze lions in front of the Nat’l Galleries. How people easily scramble up those, we’ll never know. After much awkward pushing and sliding, we managed to get atop it just long enough for a picture. Catrina had a blast laughing at us while documenting the entire experience. After a group picture on the side of the lion, we headed off looking for food.

By picking a random direction, we discovered the Sherlock Holmes Pub. Of course we went in. Out of all the pubs, in all of London, we walked into one and sat next to a group of students from our program. What are the odds. After a lot of problems with my credit card, I happily devoured my first british fish 'n' chips and a sticky toffee pudding, as well as a Sherlock Holmes Ale. Catrina’s sausage sandwich, on the other hand, was rather pathetic. It was a sausage sliced in half on normal sliced bread, no more, no less. Not even mustard.

Now since everything happens when I am not present, of course Catrina, Amanda and Caitlyn were accosted by a prison-tattooed, tooth-missing, crazy old man while I was in the bathroom. He walked straight up to Catrina, leaned right into her face and said, “'Ello sexy!” He then proceeded to ask if they were married, because he wanted to marry all of them. Of course I missed this.

After that, we headed over to watch the parade, marching band thingy. After waiting forever, in the shade and consequently cold, with Amanda having to pee and me being attacked by allergies, the queen finally showed up. I stood on my chair to see the tiny women in her little green hat and dress. She came, she got out of the car, she shook a couple hands, and she left. Poor hubby was forced to sit under a tiny tent all by himself while drummers and such marched around for his viewing pleasure. I think he would have been happier with a pint.

With very tired feet, we finally headed home.

Obviously I haven’t covered Elise’s visit, but I figure this was a good start. Ryan Book is coming tonight, and we’re going out somewhere for my birthday. My boss took me to the pub for a drink to celebrate. Since it’s a Monday, everyone else was busy so it was just us. I got a glass of wine and we chatted for a while.

When we got back, the music selection started out with tina turner, but quickly switched to a short inspirational playlist (since European Pensions was going to print today) consisting of the final countdown, I did it my way by Frank Sinatra, whitesnake's here I go again, and chuck barry’s no particular place to go. Eye of the Tiger was originally turned off because it was “much too early for that. don't want to chance fate.” However, after Sinatra had repeated a couple times, apparently enough had been accomplished that it was then time to play it. I've just realized that this really wasn't a quick sum-up, but oh well. Just a little bit longer here, and then I can go home for my nap. I am very excited.