Up Early
Not really. I got up before ten, but for a Saturday that was fantastic. Rachel, Nikki, and a bunch of others were planning to go to Hard Rock Cafe for lunch, and I was determined to enjoy myself--my religion paper finished, I had no choice but to finish a two page explication of Edward Thomas' "The Cherry Trees". It's a four-line elegy and I'm not sure what I was thinking. I made two pages, single spaced, and I'm confident I found lots of intelligent things to say. 11:30, I jumped into the shower, papers turned in and pleased that I had the whole day to go out and play.
Unfortunately, I found out that the whole group had left at eleven. Pissed, I just went back to bed, figuring the whole day was hosed. There's only so much you can do by yourself out in London and convince everyone else it was super fun and all that...I was so mad! They all knew I wanted to come! They all know where I spend my afternoons, in front of this friggin computer! How hard is it to come find me?
I was mad most of the day, but I didn't say anything to anyone about it. When Rachel got home, she said she wanted to go back and tour the Vault, something the girls hadn't wanted to do, and promised she'd take me.
The First Session
Saturday morning is only available here on audio, and even then it's tough to keep a solid stream unless every single laptop wi-fi is shut off. I sat at this classroom computer and played solitaire--everyone else sat in a classroom chair and took notes or drew or fell asleep on their pillows. Saturday morning is my absolute favorite session, simply because everyone is so excited to be there. New temples announced! I'm amazed how many East Coast ones are being built--a little more realistic about the locals' hostility toward such blatant religion. But hey, temples always make the housing market go up.
The rest of the girls were up late that night. I went downstairs at nine or so, just inserting myself at the dining room table to share in the communal suffering of writing horrible papers an hour before the deadline. Bless Dr. Seely for remembering what student life is like--if you turned in your essays sometime during the night, no worries for you. Everyone groaned and declared it the worst essay ever composed, or that their brains were now mush and they were giving up. I sat and chatted with everyone there, Andrea having everyone listen to Keane, me exposing them to Anberlin and other such bands, writing song lyrics.
Devri came in about midnight, after hanging with her boy--apparently she was sitting in a taxi with a Middle eastern guy who was asking her some questions that would definitely worry Liam Neeson: "Where are you staying?" and "Who are you staying with?" and "How long?". Devri didn't think too much of it, but gave vague answers anyway. They were about to shove off when he got on his cell and started speaking in Arabic. The only thing she understood was "Palace Court"--and she got this feeling that she needed to get out of the cab now. Making some excuse about forgetting something, she ran back into the hotel to grab her six-five guy. He heard an abbreviated account, and the taxi driver got one fuming boyfriend accompanying her home safe. She spread the word, and only time will tell if we have some rogue cab drivers harassing us in future.
We had a great time until I realized it was now two in the morning and I probably should get some sleep to avoid it during conference the next day. It's not really a sin, but you typically miss out on something awesome.
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