Yeah, if you couldn't tell, i started to zone about the middle of that last post. It was a struggle to both remember my trip this weekend in detail and then convert it into words that would be at least halfway interested for my idle audience....I'm still working on the Amsterdam tickets--I've established a stopover spot in London and the transport between London and Amsterdam, but otherwise I'm still plugging away.

I did get kinda lucky today, though. I took a break from staring uselessly at lastminute.com, a website that has ensured its own personal damnation by only offering train tickets within the UK instead of all over Europe like it ought to do, and went for a walk to buy some coffee, convert my ever-decreasing-in-value dollars to euro, and pick up some indian food. Fun incident #1: walk past a group of tourists who are German, waiting for the bus and taking up 3/4 of the sidewalk. I'm slipping past, saying "excuse me" in my very soft, not trying to sound american voice, and the teenage boy in front of me trots to get out of my way---I walk past him and all of a sudden it's just he and I staring at each other and he had the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen. I've never been a sucker for blue eyes, maybe cause mine are blue, but this was that German royal blue that just knocked me off my feet. But he was also 16, so I kept walking (as much as it might benefit him to have some older woman teach him the ways of the world). Fun incident #2: Monsoon, the Indian restaurant that's a little too posh but I wanted Indian food and by god I was going to have it, was kinda closed-ish for their lunch break. So I thought maybe they'd take someone at the last minute and sure enough, this young handsome Indian chef comes bounding out of the kitchen to take my order, gets me a glass of water, offers me a seat, practically salaams the whole time, ensures that I'm aware I get 20% off my meal for take away. I didnt' think I looked that good today. So once I come back, the maitre d' hands me the bag and tells me that the "staff" has prepared something special for me, as well as a bag of heaping pappar (I think that's what it's called, isn't it?). I wave to my little chef and once I get back to the apt. I find that he's added an extra entree of Pir for me, which is a rice dish with saffron and what i think might be anise? Not my fave, but it's the thought that counts, isn't it?

Now, if only I'm lucky enough to find an attentive gentleman for the evening....