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raising bloody 'ell in england, mate
June 25, 2004, 3:09 pm

It is five hours ahead when I would have been writing this at home. I am sitting in an adorable library with a sign above my head that says, "Fine Fruit For Your Puddings" and the quote keys are in a different place.

England is awesome, but more importantly, my friends are awesome. I am the luckiest person on Earth.

I just wanted to get that out there, in case there would be any confusion later on.

There are road signs with sillouettes of people hunched over with canes and say "Elderly"...Old People Crossings, if you will. There are pubs and lifts and lemonades that are fizzy and a lot, lot of people who look at you with interest if you smile at them on the street.

I called "Goodnight!" to a bartender, and he couldn't understand what I had said. TWO guys have flirted with me above and beyond the call of duty.

We stay up until 3:00am, 4:00am because there is so much to talk about, so much to say, and sooooooo little time to talk and say and do all those things. There are also too many drinks to pound and cigarettes to smoke, but, as if my body and metabolism are jet-lagged, don't really catch up to me until I fall asleep, and then it passes over. I will get home and have to sleep for three days.

My voice has changed to a peppy Brit-US hybrid of melody which, I'm quite pleased about, actually. Heh.

Cheerio 'til then...COME ON, ENGLAND!

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