28 July 2006

You guessed it. Kids. Marauding, multiplying, maniacal boys, all of them. Swarmed onto the train to Prestwick right after I got on. UGH. What was that I was telling the boss about kids the other night?!?
I am on my way to Glasgow Prestwick Airport – the one in the news for refueling American planes carrying arms to Israel. I am hopping a plane to see Paisano in Cambridge.
I am sitting in the Unicorn Pub with a ½ pint of Stella, waiting for Paisano. I about missed the Prestwick stop on the train, which was why I had to so abruptly stop writing earlier.
I managed to catch my plane with hours to spare, but I screwed up the bus reservations to get back to Heathrow on Monday. I ended up at wit’s end and could feel myself falling into a bit of a panic. The Ryanair flight was less than an hour – up and down – but with a great number of advertisements. Ah, so that is how they make their money.
Got to Stanstead and found the National Express desk, straightened out the silliness on Monday and purchased a ticket to Cambridge. I managed to catch an earlier coach, though I had phoned Paisano and left him two messages (the first 30 p cut me off!) that I wouldn’t be in until 10ishk.
I caught a taxi to his address, but he’s not home, so I sit in the Unicorn, having a second ½ pint.
God I am homesick. I just may be tired, but I have been missing my life, my dog, TSB and my apartment (mice and all) something fierce.
TSB said there was one mouse caught. I can’t wait till I get home and get all the gory details.