Sorry for the delay. Been busy...
okay, so I've been playing that damn game! But, I'm here now and that counts for something, right? Right?
Anyway, here we go!
07/31/2004
My flight was scheduled to leave the ground at 8:40 am. I was in the airport two hours ahead of time, like they tell you to do, at about 6:30 am. After hours and hours of delay messages, and after actually boarding one plane, getting off the plane and moving to another gate they tell us at about 1 pm that our flight is officially cancelled.
During the 7 mind-numbing hours I met a few interesting characters. This gentleman, for one. He walked up to this sign and started pointing at it, and then began to look around the room with this look on his face that said "This is ironic, and I'm funny. Who's with me!?"
First day there:
So two days later (flight was delayed a day and it's roughly sixteen hours of flight plus you gain 8 hours in the time change) I touched down in Heathrow. By this time I had been awake for most of twenty something hours, but it was 9 in the morning London time, so the girls kept me running all over town for my first day to help get me on a local sleep schedule. Here are a couple shots from the first day.
I hope all of you find this as funny as I do. I didn't try their chicken. I was afraid of what I might find there.
Yeah, that's right! That's me in a skirt. Funny story. Allow me to explain.
I was browsing through the kilts at a Scottish store when the sales lady took an aggresive interest in my shopping. She asked me to pick which plaid I liked and then she handed me the one you see in the pic and said THAT was the length for me. "You are tall, this look good for your legs." She had a thick eastern european accent.
So, I tried it on, and LOVED it. I really want one. Honest to god, guys you wish we could all do it, you just don't know it yet. It is SO very comfortable. Remember when you were a little boy wearing tighty-whites? Then somewhere in junior high you first discovered the liberating glory of boxers? It's like that feeling only better.
But, it was my first day there, and it was going to cost $60 American. So, I sadly put it back and told her if I could afford it I would be back.
Two doors down I found a shop with the exact same brand of kilts, so I went in to comparison shop. When this sales girl saw what I had pulled off the rack she asked "Is that for you or your lady friend?" meaning Meg.
"Uh... this is for me. Why?"
"Ah. Well, those are the ladies kilts, the men's are over here."
It turns out the way to tell them apart is simple. The front of a man's kilt overlaps in the opposite direction and their buckles are TWICE AS BIG! I thanked her for her help and casually exited her store.
This means the lady at the first store had no qualms about putting what she took for a stupid american into a ladies kilt AKA a SKIRT!
Not that anyone I know would've ever known the difference had I brought it home, but what if I happened to wear it to some St Patrick's Day festival here in Phoenix or some pub or something and there just happened to be a kilt-savvy Scotsman there? Huh?!?! What then crazy romanian lady?!?!?!
shudder
That's all for today. Museum photos and sketches tomorrow.
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