A Clutter of Cats
On Halloween I decided that just because I was in London, land of the dull boring people who don’t dress up in ridiculous costumes, I wasn’t going to forget one of my favourite holidays. After work I met up with Kimmy do to a bit of costume shopping. After we failed miserably, I went home to my closet, thew on all black clothes, painted some whiskers on my face, and voila, I was a cat! We went to a pub near our house which was having a Halloween party, realized that every girl in the pub also decided to paint whiskers on their faces, and danced the night away as a clutter of cats.
Satan’s Ticket Machine
Saturday morning came extremely quickly, and I had to wake up early to catch a train to go to see my Grandmother and the rest of my family for lunch in the country. Since my family reads this blog, I will just say that my first experience with the London overground was not a pleasant one. I took the tube to the overground station and allowed myself 40 minutes to buy my ticket, find the train, and grab a much needed cup of coffee. I stood in a queue (I’m SO English) at a ticket machine for 15 of my 40 minutes allowed before my train left, and then proceeded to push what seemed like a hundred different buttons just to purchase the correct ticket. I then had to put in one of the 20£ notes Rachel had lent me (because somehow Sebastian came to be in possession of my cash card the night before and I realized in the morning that he never returned home... I told you, I really needed that cup of coffee), and then the fun began. The machine failed to tell me that it only accepts 10£ notes which obviously I had none of. I kindly asked the machine to accept my money as I forced it back into the money slot over and over and over again. As I watched my allotted coffee time slipping away, I noticed the line I would have to wait in to talk to an actual human being if the ticket machine refused my generous offer to kick it repeatedly if it didn’t take my money. I consider myself a stubborn person (okay Mum, a VERY stubborn person), but I graciously accepted defeat as I listened to the crowd of angry Englishmen get riled up behind me, and I limped away from Satan. I moved into the next line to go purchase my ticket from the ticket window and found myself to be the 9,000,001st person in line. I realized that not only was I not getting my coffee, but I wasn’t going to make the train. I called my uncle who was supposed to pick me up at the other end, and was told to catch a different train to a different station which he would then kindly drive through horrendous traffic to pick me up from. No coffee. Sprinted to the train. Sat next to a man who’s music could be heard through my own headphones. Finally arrived. Is it coffee time yet?
When I got to GM’s I was given my coffee, and I was a treat to be around for the rest of the afternoon. I saw 4 of my 5 first cousins, my uncle Hugh, my aunt Alex and her husband Jonathan. It’s a very rare occasion to get everyone together for one afternoon and I absolutely loved spending time with all of them. My cousin Zoe and I caught a train back to London that evening, and then I went off to see Lydia’s show for the second time.
My Joshy
When I got back to London, Josh Wilson had come home from university for the weekend to come see the show with us. Josh is one of my best friends despite the fact that I only see him once a year in Provincetown. We got to hang out all night Saturday and Sunday. I miss him terribly every time I leave Ptown, and it was so great not to have to wait a full year to see him again!
Even though I had a bit of a rough Saturday morning, my weekend was otherwise fabulous. And because I got to see my family and an old friend, I really don’t mind my still-throbbing foot (damn you Satan, we WILL meet again!).
